“Nawa o!” Ekene exclaimed, punctuating his words with a snap of his fingers. “Adebola went too far abeg. What nonsense.”

“It’s ridiculous, really, guys who will go to any great lengths to be bad just for another guy,” Yinka said as he steered his car past the gateway of the Maison Fahrenheit Hotel.

“Straight people do much worse in their relationships,” Ekene rejoined tersely. “Drama due to jealousy is not exclusive to gay relationships.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Yinka said. “And I’m not trying to go the ‘he’s a man like you, you shouldn’t fight over him’ route. I’m simply saying that if it’s me, gay or straight, I would never stress myself over another human being.”

“Yea well, you’ve never been in love,” Ekene said. When Yinka opened his mouth to speak, he quickly added, “And don’t even wave that your ‘I’m in a relationship’ flag. What you and Dayo are doing is a joke, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Open relationships are real, honey,” Yinka said with his characteristic smile. He’d become accustomed to the general disapproval some of his friends had for the status of his relationship with his corporate worker boyfriend. Ekene, especially, didn’t seem like he’d ever get used to the idea that two people dating could ever come to the mutual agreement to sleep with other people. He liked to refer to Dayo as Yinka’s friend with benefits.

“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden, mister,” Yinka said with a glance at me as he pulled up into a parking spot.

I heaved a small sigh. “I just feel a little sad, you know. I’ve been so mad at Adebola, and now, I’m not quite so any longer.”

“Not mad enough to make up with him?” Yinka asked.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not while he still feels resentful toward me. After this stunt he pulled with Oscar, I’m not sure I can trust him anymore. I didn’t ask to be with Bryson, knowing that he wanted him. But it has happened. I just wish he would get over it, because there’s no way I’m breaking up with Bryson just to make him feel better.”

“Absolutely not,” Ekene concurred, with a glare at Yinka, as though daring him to try to convince me otherwise.

Yinka caught the look and gave a short laugh. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m not about to play mediator here. I’m just here to ogle fine boys and know if there’s anyone I can take home with me.”

We shared a laugh as we opened the car doors and stepped out into the evening. It was Saturday, and I had no classes today, which was good, because that freed me up to attend a fashion show Bryson was a part of. It was the Alfie Esang Fashion Show, an exclusive event the designer, Alfred Esang, put together once every year when he wanted to release his creations for the year. Esang was one of the topmost designers in the country, whose clothes had been seen on several celebrities walking the red carpet and attending lavish functions. The day Bryson landed the gig to model for him during this particular fashion show, he’d been so excited.

“You have to be there, Dee,” he’d enthused to me. “You absolutely have to be. Bring your friends, come alone, I don’t care. Just be there.”

And here I was, with Yinka and Ekene, to witness my boyfriend be a star, even though it was just for one evening and along with several other good-looking people doing the same thing.

We chatted as we walked into the hotel lobby, and located the elevator that whisked us up to the rooftop, where the show was scheduled to take place. There was some traffic leading up to the rooftop. We were early – it was just 6.30pm – and so the crowd was made up of mainly the young generation – entitled university students, fashionable yuppies and the photogs, their keenness to score some sort of action from the show palpable. Esang’s older patrons would start arriving much later, when the night had completely fallen, and the atmosphere was throbbing with the delights of the evening.

The rooftop was already a picturesque setting of silk draperies, floral arrangements and beautiful people. The runway was set, and there were people everywhere, some seeking out their seats, others idly chatting and laughing, and some others moving about with purpose. The show would soon be underway.

“Guys, let’s find Bryson,” I said. “I need to let him know I’m around.”

“Can’t we just settle down and meet him after the show?” Yinka sighed unhappily as he winked happily at a male model he must already be acquainted with, because the model winked happily back.

“Yes, I can see exactly how you’d like to settle and on whom you’d like to do the settling,” I sallied.

Ekene laughed as Yinka returned, “Oh stop. I could never settle so early in the evening.”

Eventually, we found Bryson backstage, and my friends stayed back as I approached him. My heart filled with gladness as I observed him. He was talking with three guys, two of them with unclad torsos like him. His sinewy arms appeared to ripple in the dying light of the evening, and I sighed blissfully as I imagined running my hands over those ridges that were his pecs and abs.

“Hey,” I said as I came up to them.

He turned and beamed a smile at me. “You came.”

“Of course I came. It’s a big night for you. Who knows, after this, you could start walking the runway in Milan, Paris and New York.”

There was a smattering of laughter from the group.

“I know, right?” intoned one of the other three guys in an affected foreign accent, the only one who was fully dressed. He had on a T-Shirt that clung to his lean upper body and skin-tight jeans that held on to his long legs so tightly I wondered if the cells on his thighs could breathe. I knew, even before he lifted a limp wrist to tap Bryson ever-so-gently on his arm, that he had a membership in the Rainbow Department. His laugh tinkled as he said, “I keep telling him to watch out. He has the charisma to really blow out in his career.”

“Hey, Rome, what about us nau,” one of the other barely-clad models said with a pout. “It’s not just Bryson joor.”

“Of course you two will do big things, my darlings,” the guy, who looked like he was in his early thirties, drawled. “You will all do big things. But Bryson is special, aren’t you, darling?” He turned a megawatt smile at my boyfriend, who grinned a tad self consciously back.

“Abeg, stop washing me, Rome…”

“Oh, I’m not, darling –”

“Excuse me,” I cut in stiffly. “I didn’t quite get your name.”

“Oh, that’s because I didn’t give it,” he said, turning his smile to me. The smile was arch. The one I returned to him was wooden. He continued, “You know, you get used to being so recognised, you tend to forget to have to introduce yourself. My name is Romesh. My friends call me Rome.”

When he didn’t speak further, I gave him a blank look, arching a brow as though to ask, Romesh who? Did this skank really think he was so famous he didn’t have to add his surname in an introduction? Who does he think he is – Cher? Beyoncé? Please! 

“Rome is something of a bigwig in the fashion industry,” Bryson explained to me.

“Something?” Romesh said with a sultry little laugh. “Oh darling, don’t lower my credits before the uneducated please.”

The uneducated?! I bristled instantly. What a bitch! And how many ‘darlings’ was he allowed to get away with in one conversation? I fumed silently.

“Anyhoo,” he continued, “I think I’ll circulate now. I believe that’s Uti right over there, he’ll want to say hello. Darlings, make sure you break a leg this night. Just a leg, you hear me” – he wagged a finger theatrically – “and not the rest of your gorgeous selves.”

The models laughed as he turned and sashayed away from us. The other two promptly moved away, and Bryson turned to me.

“Charming fellow,” I said, nodding at Romesh’s departing back.

“Yea, he really is,” Bryson said. “He has his hand in everything fashion – pageants, fashion shows, plus he runs his own modeling agency. We don’t run in the same circles though. The guy rubs shoulders with lots of celebrities. He’s never spoken more than a few words to me before tonight. And for him to be complimenting me and telling me all this stuff about my career” – his grin widened – “I’m totally psyched about that.”

I’m sure he means for you to be exactly that, I thought acidly as I glared at the man who I was starting to dislike more and more. “Anyway, enough about him please,” I said, smiling to take the sting off my words. “I just wanted to wish you the best as you go up there. I believe this will be the stepping stone to greater things ahead.”

His smile dazzled me as he said, “That is such a sweet thing to say, baby.”

“It’s my job to say sweet things to you, baby,” I replied.

His eyes softened and his gaze dropped to my mouth. I felt a tug in my groin, and instantly began willing the hard-on away. Bryson however didn’t help as he murmured, “And it is my job to kiss the hell out of those lips that say sweet things to me.”

“Stop please,” I said with a flustered laugh.

“Stop what? Kissing you or talking about my desire to kiss you?”

“You aren’t kissing me. So yes, it’s the latter.”

“I could kiss you now, you know.”

“Right, and land us both in the spotlight that has nothing to do with the fashion show.”

He threw his head back and guffawed at that. “You cheeky bastard, oya go joor. I have to get ready. We’ll see after the show, right? I mean, you’re going home with me tonight, aren’t you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” We shared another smile, and I was on my way out of the backstage to find my friends.

I soon found them seated, and Ekene pulled me down to the seat next to him, before bursting out with, “You won’t guess who just arrived.”

“You’re right, I won’t guess. So why don’t you tell me.”

“Your nwunye di,” he gushed. At my quizzical expression, he said, “You know, Bryson’s girlfriend, before you came into the picture. Asri – that’s her over there.”

I followed his pointing hand to a corner of the room where the model held court. Just Asri, another Nigerian fashionista with no last name. She looked expectedly stunning, with her hourglass figure clad in a champagne-coloured mini dress, and her dark hair falling in loose waves to her shoulders in a coiffure that complemented the striking features that had started to dominate magazine covers. She was starting to become a household name in Nigerian fashion, certainly a bigger star than Bryson. And I’d found it odd that they’d split when he could have benefited from her celebrity. He’d told me he was the one who broke things off with her; why that happened and whether it happened before or after we started seeing each other were items of the news he didn’t impart to me. To be honest, I wasn’t that much curious to know. I tried as much as possible not to deal with anything that had to do with the heterosexual part of Bryson’s life.

Asri was soon pushed out of my mind by the time the event was underway. All eyes and camera lenses became fixated on the long runway, which was a river of moving colours, beauty and style. Music rent the atmosphere as the lovely models undulated back and forth the stage, the females looking so slim and slinky, and the males hulking with muscles that shone and rippled under the flashing lights. They strutted with all the confidence of those who were in their element, marking their superiority over the rest of the populace in the room with each gait, each pose and each smouldering look.

“I often wonder why models on the runway have to always look like they have a quarrel with the rest of the world,” Yinka observed sometime during the show.

Ekene and I gave in to some laughter, and I said, “I know, right? I mean, a little smile while you’re sashaying down the runway ought to help market what you’re marketing, right?”

“Nah, you want them to smile and forget to concentrate on not tripping to the ground?” Ekene rejoined.

The three of us laughed some more.

The moments Bryson walked the runway were the pinnacle of the show for me. His muscled body was evident even when he was wearing clothes, and whether he was flashing skin or not, I felt a surge of lusty delight ripple through my skin with every sight of him. One of the moments he stalked sensuously down the stage, my eyes involuntarily moved over the spectators, seeking out Romesh. I found him. He was staring at the catwalk, at Bryson, with a sort of speculative expression that made my blood stir.

“Relax, Dee,” Yinka said, when he noticed who had my attention, “that queen is certainly not a threat.” I’d told him and Ekene about what happened when I went backstage.

I believed his conviction, dismissed Romesh from my mind and refocused on the stage, and on my boyfriend.


“Thanks again for coming tonight,” Bryson murmured to me inside one of the stalls in the men’s room. We were the only ones in the convenience, but a stall provided better privacy for the intimate moment.

“You know, you don’t have to keep thanking me,” I said huskily. “I was very glad to come – anything to see you without your clothes on.”

He chuckled. “Very well then, I think I’ll give you a private show when we get home.”

“I’d love that,” I said, looking from his eyes to his mouth.

He drew the mouth closer to my face, raising his hands to hold my head and angle my mouth for his kiss. Our tongues swirled and fused together, lighting up a dazzling array of colours in my mind. I moaned and began to bring my hands up to his chest, but he pulled back.

He was smiling as he said, “Time to go, before someone walks in here to wonder why there are two pairs of feet sticking out beneath the door of one stall.”

I groaned, then chuckled, and then we walked out, leaving the convenience for the lobby. There were still lots of people around. It was getting on 10pm, and the fashion show was over. There’d been an exodus from the rooftop earlier, with people crowding into the elevators and spilling out downstairs. Bryson had asked me to wait for him, and Yinka and Ekene had had to leave without me. Now, he was done and we were ready to leave. I stifled a yawn as I thought about the long drive back to the mainland, feeling grateful that I had nowhere to be the next day.

“Hey, Bryson, just a minute please…”

Someone called his attention as we made our way out of the lobby, and he excused himself from my side to get swallowed up by a gaggle of fellow professionals in his career. I stood and patiently waited, bringing out my Blackberry to attend to some of my notifications, and occasionally staring lovingly at him.

“He is incredible, isn’t he?” a voice husked close to me.

I looked up with mild startle, to set my eyes on Asri’s profile. This would be the second time I would be up close to her, and the impact of her beauty didn’t seem to lessen with the reoccurrence. I was momentarily tongue-tied, and blinked at her, unsure she was talking to me.

She turned to me, flicking a small sheath of her hair backward as she did so. “Hello, Declan.”

“You know my name?” I choked out.

Her lipsticked lips parted in a smile. “Of course I do. Admittedly, I didn’t retain it the last time we were introduced. But recently, I have come to make myself familiar with you.”

“Me? Why?” I stared uncomprehendingly at her.

She turned her profile to me again, and said, “He stands a chance of being really big in this business, you know.”

“You mean Bryson?” I queried.

“Yes. He was incredible up there tonight, generated quite some buzz too.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be very glad to hear it.”

“Yes, I plan on telling him. I also plan on patching things up with him.”

My heart constricted. “Oh?” That was all I could manage.

“Yes.” She turned to face me again, and there was a sudden iciness to her beauty. “I want him back, Declan.”

And I knew without a shadow of doubt that she knew everything there was to know about what was currently going on with Bryson. And me. My face shuttered and I stared stonily back. “Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I learned from some sources that you’re the one to reckon with in this matter – not another girl, some silly, little bimbo… You.”

Adebola, you will go to hell for this! I seethed inwardly. Outwardly, I remained deadpan. “I don’t know what you’re implying –”

“Oh, I believe you do.”

“Even so, pertaining to whatever it is you think you know, shouldn’t you be repulsed? Running to the hills, with thanks that you managed a narrow escape? Shouldn’t you be leaving him – us – alone?”

“He doesn’t belong with you, Declan. He is not your kind.”

“My kind,” I repeated, tasting the words and feeling my face sour at the taste. “You remember that saying about going black and not going back?” I stared pointedly at her, and her nostrils flared when my meaning sunk in.

“I want him back, Declan.”

“You are welcome to try, Asri.”

There was no further exchange as she turned and disappeared into the human traffic headed out of the lobby. I stared after her, wondering with some exasperation at the fatality of these landmines Fate had set upon my relationship. Adebola, Romesh, Asri… You think you can cut me some slack to simply enjoy being with this guy? I threw silently and furiously heavenward.

Written by Pink Panther

Previous That Article About Gay Men And What They’re Still Learning To Love About Their Bodies
Next Photo Of The Day XVI

About author

You might also like

Love And Sex In The City 59 Comments


The eight weeks that followed my coming out to my sister went speedily by, and I didn’t take much note of the passage, because nearly every day was full. It

Love And Sex In The City 34 Comments


Foreword: So guys, (and I’m using the male term because I believe this blog’s readership is vastly male), I was wondering if there’s anyone here with lesbian friends. It would

Love And Sex In The City 24 Comments

Love And Sex In The City (Episode 5)

Dick, come on, don’t do this . . . Stop calling me that . . . Ok, baby, please . . . Don’t call me that either . . .


  1. Mirage
    March 30, 05:35 Reply

    Adebola’s character simply heightened my fear of having closely knit “friendship” with some gay men. imagine the height all cos of a guy like him. No wonder I hear stories of gay guys poisoning their friends all cos of a man, hian a man! #shudders

      • Mirage
        March 30, 06:20 Reply

        Passion or simply stupidity they call love or selfishness, I repeat nothing and nothing is worth snapping out a beautiful life out of someone!*twerks away*

  2. Dennis Macaulay
    March 30, 05:41 Reply

    I hate being threatened! Activate project destroy asri! By the time i am done with her (if i were declan) she will not work in lagos again.

    I had a stylist guy i was close to in the past, he introduced me to fashion circles. The meanest most stuckup and arrogant people ever (my stats and not based on any empirical research) work in fashion. Mostly beautiful people with ugly souls, I couldnt wait to be far from them.

    • pinkpanthertb
      March 30, 06:04 Reply

      Lmao. Some of these fashion people can be quite catty. I’ve had one such brush that reinforced my determination to stay away from the profession. Not like I have an aptitude for it anyway

    • MacArdry
      March 30, 06:59 Reply

      Your stats are close to the truth,Dennis.Very,very close.I avoid them like the plague

    • Gad
      March 31, 09:09 Reply

      It’s not just cowardice to fight a woman it’s shameful.

  3. olima
    March 30, 06:27 Reply

    Team Kizito!!!! Declan, d guy has bn waiting for u n u still prefer Bryson? Take ur tym u hear me?

  4. Mitch
    March 30, 06:33 Reply

    Okay Dee, who’s next? First Adebola, then Rome and now Asri! Nna, ya market dey spoil oh!

    And though the fashion industry has a heck of a lotta bishes, there are still a few cool ones. Yes, they’re gradually going extinct but they are still there.

  5. Mercury
    March 30, 07:06 Reply

    Hmmmmmm, all this trouble for some guy????, puhlease…..I’m guessing that I’ll be single for a very long time.

  6. trystham
    March 30, 07:10 Reply

    AWWWWWWN!!! I had this insane imagine of both of them, heck three of them rolling about in.the lobby, claws out and they yowling like felines in heat.

    Bia, Dennis honestly, is it that GMB cannot get 25% votes from that region??? Besides, while the rest of Nigeria were tweeting PU results, what really was happening???

    • Dennis Macaulay
      March 30, 07:18 Reply

      Nwannem they want to do mago mago in the SS and SE to shore up Ebele’s numbers and reduce Buhari’s numbers so he wont get 25 percent. Its sad really, even Bayelsa state no results yet

  7. Teflondon
    March 30, 07:54 Reply

    “Chronicles of a slut”
    Declan is all kinds of slut… She, yes she! Should do the needful and let Bryson be.. Biko! All these stress over a man doesn’t worth. First, it was adebola, then Rome and now Ari.. She wants to fight the world cause of a man. Hain!
    The signs are there, she is a nobody and should learn her place… So all of a sudden she enjoys Bryson’s company and wants him all for herself.. Because she knows Bryson would soon be a star.
    She should stop being a ‘Bitch’ and either let Aris have Bryson completely (those two are just prefect for eachother) or be a side-bitch to Bryson.

    • pinkpanthertb
      March 30, 08:01 Reply

      Tef, you and Declan wouldn’t happen to have torn your weave-ons against each other, have you?

    • Mercury
      March 30, 08:06 Reply

      I was wondering exactly the same thing.

    • Mandy
      March 30, 08:21 Reply

      You’re really laughable, Teflondon. Sometimes, you should read the ‘personal opinions’ you’ve typed before posting them.

      So Declan should do the needful and let Bryson be? His boyfriend? Someone he started dating on a clean slate? Suddenly becos some people do not want them together, he should break it off and return to life as a single person? That would redeem him from the slutty persona you’ve labelled him with?

      ‘The signs are there, she is a nobody and should learn her place… So all of a sudden she enjoys Bryson’s company and wants him all for herself.. Because she knows Bryson would soon be a star.’

      Are you for real? What does this garbage even mean? Wants Bryson all to himself… Who’s he supposed to share him with? The disciples of Christ? Somehow, I feel you just want to be this contentious because PP wrote this, and it wouldn’t do for you to commend the protagonist before – God forbid – we think you’re ass-kissing.

      • pinkpanthertb
        March 30, 08:25 Reply

        As in eh, his comments completely weakened me. I began to wonder if he was reading the LASITC that I am writing. Or washing a private dirty laundry on the blog.

      • Teflondon
        March 30, 09:38 Reply

        Mandy.. Asri dated Bryson first long before ‘Slutty Declan’ came into the picture.. So why can’t she have her man back? Or atleast share! With Declan being the side-bitch. “As she was first on site”… (Read whatever meaning that statement)

        As for this,
        “Somehow, I feel you just want to be this contentious because PP wrote this, and it wouldn’t do for you to commend the protagonist before – God forbid – we think you’re ass-kissing.”

        Please just stop it already..I am getting tired of it. I do come here to make reasonable (and maybe not so reasonable according to you guys) contributions.. That i deem fit. And that’s just it.. Whatever notion yall have after that.. Is none of my business. It’s getting really tiring the notion yall always have about my comments.. Thinking there is some sort of motive behind it. Just cut it out already please.

        • pinkpanthertb
          March 30, 09:45 Reply

          Asri should have Bryson back and make Declan the side chick. Lol. Forget fiction. You don’t really believe that bunkum, do you? You’re not really opining that gay men should let go of their relationships simply because the ex girlfriend wants back in? You’re not seriously saying that, are you? You’re not really telling me that’s what you’d do, are you?

      • Mandy
        March 30, 09:47 Reply

        The unreasonableness of this second comment of yours is not according to anyone @Tef. It simply is.

      • sinnex
        March 30, 10:35 Reply

        @Tef abeg leave them ooooo. I think the goons have issues. With what I have been reading lately, I think there are issues. Deed rooted issues that need to be sorted out.
        When I saw this “All this compulsory discontent you and your boyfriend feel you must pour out everyday is getting old”, written by the almighty oga at the top, I became weak inside of me.
        On a serious note, is this blog for a close circle of friends with same ideology or for those who are “queer and fab”? Why was this blog created in the first place? You guys don’t seem to get it, we can’t all reason alike. If you think someone has said something wrong, why don’t you school the person. We learn everyday and no one is an island of knowledge.

        I keep on saying, you guys should learn how to counter points and not attack the personality.

      • Teflondon
        March 30, 12:11 Reply

        Pinky this has nothing to do with gay or not.. This is about Declan.. If I were in her shoes.. I’ll honoursble step down. She just doesn’t fit the bill.. (Compared to Asri)
        Because Declan is gay doesn’t mean I must support him. I tot Declan was cool with Open Relationship (I may be wrong) so why is she all clingy all of a sudden.. (I am taking bits from previous piece of this story)

        I know it’s fiction but I am trying to bring the story to life (which I believe that’s the essence of this stories told, to be able to relate with them.. Right?)

        @Sinnex Lol lets be calm darling.. Don’t let this things get to you. I never take what is said here too seriously. I do get your points.. But Pls try and ignore as much as possible like I do.. And Gad does.

        • pinkpanthertb
          March 30, 12:57 Reply

          At what point did Declan express his coolness with open relationships? Why should he step down for an ex girlfriend? Does he not deserve to be in that relationship simply because he’s gay and Asri is female? Do you even reason these comments you make before posting them? In all honesty, do you believe you would give up your relationship just because someone else asked? Are you truly that lacking in your self confidence as a gay man that you would willingly relegate yourself to a side chick and make way for someone else to occupy your position?

      • Teflondon
        March 30, 13:35 Reply

        Pinky that relationship is going nowhere… Bryson will end up breaking Declan’s heart.. Forget that you are the author of this story. This is what I believe.. There will be no happy endings for Declan-Bryson relationship..

        • pinkpanthertb
          March 30, 13:38 Reply

          That is beside the point. You’re evading the point and that tells me all I need to know.

    • Vhar.
      March 30, 18:24 Reply

      So Dapo D’banj was dating Genny.
      Then they broke up.
      And I came into the picture.
      Then Genny struts down graciously from some stairs, walks up to me and says

      “I want him back! Back off Child”

      I never ever back down (doesn’t mean I’ll bring my claws out).
      I was on my own and He decided he wanted preferred my ass to a lady’s honey pot.

      Because she’s a star or one in the making and I might not be one or “anything” doesn’t mean she’ll intimidate me.
      Because she feels threatened if you ask.

      “Her man left her for a guy”.
      Move on is what she should do.
      My self-esteem won’t falter one bit even if its glaring that the affair my end later on.

      Emi?! Emi omo Yoruba laced with Edo blood?!
      She will just die!

  8. Ruby
    March 30, 08:07 Reply

    This is sure going to be a roller coaster ride for Declan.
    PS: I don’t believe in open relationships

  9. Khaleesi
    March 30, 10:14 Reply

    hmm … its always fun when you have to fight over a man with a girl, each party brings their unique kinda weapons to the battle … @Tef, yes Asri was first in time, but her tenure ended and she was kicked out in the cold, her place @ the table is no longer vacant and she cant just march in and expect Declan to vacate the seat for her!! ****Pulls out long gleaming sword and prepares for battle****

    • sinnex
      March 30, 10:41 Reply

      You are so sexy when you do that…muah…

    • Teflondon
      March 30, 13:48 Reply

      If Bryson becomes a world star.. Like he is being propped… Declan will become a distant memory in no time. (My Opinion)
      Asri on the other hand seems like she (obviously a star Her self) would be in the picture or there about.. Come what may… As both of them are drop dead gorgeous.. Everything about their relationship Oozes ‘Hotness’

      Say whatever you like..
      But I am #TeamAsri #TeamBrysonAndAsri #TeamBrysri (i.e Bryson+Asri)

    • Brian Collins
      March 31, 01:56 Reply

      Just like GEJ will be kicked out abi? Can someone just tell me who won the elections or did JEGA drop dead? I am in school and have no access to real life news. What is going on in the real world people. (FUTO is a surreal place)

      • Gad
        March 31, 09:38 Reply

        Change is eminent. God is on a mission to transform Nigeria. GEJ is fighting from behind d scene. Option B failed him on sunday night let’s wait and see how option C plays out

  10. Oluwadamilare Okoro
    March 30, 12:31 Reply

    Great episode as usual… I love the new twists in the fight for Bryson… *PS: I already have this picture of Bryson in my head; the guy is FOINEEE*

    Let the fyt ooo… let the best man/woman WIN….


    • Teflondon
      March 30, 13:40 Reply

      If you put it like this.. Knowing Aunty pinky (defender of the rights of……..) .. Frm the few days on being on this blog.. No guessing who the winner will be.. But just maybe, we could be surprised.. Just maybe!

  11. Bongo
    March 30, 16:54 Reply

    Over sabi too plenty for here. *wanks off* ehee, as I was saying, biko leave people’s opinions and give your own. See as una just dey scream like a mother hen that had just lost her children. Oya attack!

  12. Chris
    March 30, 19:21 Reply

    Some dudes will have to get married (gay or bi) to women. So side dudes/chicks be emotionally ready to deal with that.

  13. KingBey
    March 30, 20:02 Reply

    And that was how you lost him…..hehehhehe. The forces against you are too strong darling.

  14. Fred
    August 09, 21:14 Reply


    ARA (in Igbo)

Leave a Reply