MAYBE TOMORROW

The last time I told a story about life, I was graduating from school, HIV positive and full of hope, riding off into the sunset with a boyfriend who loved me and who I was going to build a life with.

Or so I thought.

Things with Mark didn’t stay blissful for long. I mean, we were together for several months. At some point, he lost his job and had to move in with me because he couldn’t keep up with the demands of living in Abuja without any gainful employment. So, I began taking care of both of us. I even tried to get him a job by speaking to a superior in my office, but that didn’t pan out.

That was when the cracks started appearing on our relationship. Or maybe they were there even before he moved in; who knows? I didn’t learn about Mark’s faithlessness to me by monitoring him. No. Instead, I heard the gossip from neighbours about how “that guy that I’m accommodating” frequently entertained male visitors whenever I wasn’t around and even occasionally threw house parties anytime I traveled out of Abuja.

At first, I didn’t want to believe these reports. Then I realised that my neighbours couldn’t be lying, but I didn’t bring it up with Mark. Instead, I began to get more watchful of him. I investigated by checking his WhatsApp chats, and not only did I discover that he was a faithless motherfucker who had used my house as the venue for an orgy, I also found chats where he told his numerous side cocks that the guy he was staying with was his cousin. This guy was denying his relationship with me to these random hookups.

I felt so betrayed and that was when I confronted him. He was shocked and became frantic with his contrition. But I was done. I told him our relationship was over, but that he didn’t have to worry, I wouldn’t throw him out.

By this time, I have to point out that I had also lost my job. It was during the heydays of the COVID-19 pandemic, and fifteen staff members were laid off at my workplace. I was among them. I wasn’t particularly bothered because I had enough savings to fall back on pending when I’d get a new job. But I gave up the hunt when it became apparent that companies weren’t hiring. Five weeks after I found out about my boyfriend’s infidelity, five weeks of living under the same roof with him as someone I was no longer dating, the lockdown had been eased the first time around. I packed my things, sold most of them and relocated to Port Harcourt. I left Mark behind in Abuja; the rent on my house was going to expire in two months. I didn’t care to know about his plans or what he intended to do with his life. My business caring about him ended the day my love for him died.

***

Settling down in Port Harcourt wasn’t much of a stress because I had relatives there. I moved in with an aunt, and proceeded to start applying to different companies with advertised openings, hoping to get called for an interview. And for a while, that wasn’t forthcoming.

With so much time to while away, I reinstalled Grindr, wanting to get back into the game. This was where I met Ifiok.

From our chatversations, Ifiok appeared to be a fun and crazy person, and I love crazy people. We got along well. From Grindr, we moved to WhatsApp. And after two months of flirting and building up the chemistry between us, he finally requested for us to meet. I invited him over to my place, but he declined, asking me to come see him instead. It was going to be tedious, transporting myself from Agip to Choba. But I didn’t mind.

Upon getting to Choba junction, I called him and he requested for me to give him twenty minutes. Standing around by the roadside to wait for someone, especially at a junction, isn’t my thing. So, I went to the nearby Kilimanjaro where I bought a bottle of water and sat down to wait for him. I’d already communicated to him where I was via WhatsApp, so it wasn’t difficult for him to locate me when he finally arrived thirty minutes later.

I saw him approaching through the glass walls of the fastfood, and in those few moments, I assessed this hot thang. With a well-groomed beard, full arms and chest, 5 ft 10 by my estimation and thick brows, he oozed sex appeal. He was wearing denim pants that were tight enough to show everyone his well-calved thighs. More so, he had a swag that I love to see in guys.

When he got to me, I extended my hand for a shake, but he brushed it off and went for a hug. Snuggled inside his warm embrace, I developed an instant boner.

He apologized over and over again for making me wait, but I was okay with him, seeing that he’d just come out from the barbershop. Besides, he was presenting a really delicious meal that was so worth the wait. He ordered for a soda and we chatted for a bit, before we left the fastfood to go to his place.

Ifiok had graduated from Uniport as an Engineering student and was currently serving as a corper in Port Harcourt. His room was quite standard and had a very masculine feel to it. Once we were behind closed doors, he ambushed me with kisses. I’d have found this action offensive if it wasn’t him. I don’t like to be rushed like that into a hookup session, but with Ifiok, at least, we had gotten to know each other and like each other over a long period of time.

We kissed and kissed, our passion growing and heating up the room. Soon, our clothes were coming off and we were all over each other with tongues and hands. I wanted this man. I needed him. I wanted to feel him over me and inside me.

But then, he tried to push his dick inside me – without a condom – and my mind was snapped out of the haze of ecstasy.

Struggling to steady my breath and with my whole body trembling with protest, I pushed him back and asked why he wasn’t wearing a condom. He said he didn’t have any in his room and he didn’t want to go out to buy because the nearest pharmacy was too far away. I didn’t come with any condoms.

So, the only way forward (much as I hated, hated, HATED it) was for us to put a stop to the sex.

He protested. His dick was angry and hard. But I was insistent. No condom, no sex.

“Do you bareback just anyone you meet?” I asked, almost fully dressed.

“Not really. Just didn’t occur to me that I was out of stock,” he said glumly.

“Condoms aren’t something a gay guy, especially one who is sexually active, should be out of stock with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned, sounding accused.

“Nothing, just…Never mind. I’m doing both of us a favour, and maybe someday, you’ll appreciate it.”

I left his house feeling like I’d overcome a temptation that was even greater than what Jesus went through in the wilderness. Do you know just how hard it is to pass up the dick of someone who you are intensely attracted to and who seems just as intensely attracted to you? My God! This was one of those times when being HIV positive really sucked; when the carefreeness of simply having raw sex is not arrested by any consciousness of playing it safe.

I didn’t hear from Ifiok for a week after that. And surprisingly, I wasn’t bothered.

***

Mark called me. He wanted to let me know that he had relocated to Umuahia. I listened to him, said the right things, and then the call ended.

I felt nothing for him. And I wished him nothing but a good life with whatever he wanted out of it.

***

I wasn’t bothered by Ifiok’s seeming distance because I was busy getting another high. I received a mail during the week from one of the offices I applied to over two months ago, asking me to come for an interview. It was good news, but I was hesitant to believe in it. I kept vacillating between feeling optimistic and wondering about how good my chances of being taken were.

I got to the office the next day and walked over to the front desk, where I stated my mission. The receptionist directed me to an office, where I met a middle-aged woman who smiled as I walked in. we exchanged greetings and she asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

I told her I’d been asked over to interview for a job, and she turned to her computer, hit a few keys on the keyboard, and then stood up, signaling me to follow her. She took me to a very large office that looked like it was the company’s conference room.

She gestured me to a seat and said, “Wait here.”

Then she left.

I waited for almost fifteen minutes, before a man walked in. he breezed in with a flurry of apologies for keeping me waiting for long.

Na me dey find work. Why him come dey apologize give me na? I thought to myself.

We shook hands and took our seats.

He introduced himself as Mr. Sokari, the director of Human Resources. He was a pleasant man and appeared to have some goodness in him too.

“We received your application and you’re quite younger than I expected,” he remarked, to which we both laughed, and then he continued, “I must confess, we’re quite impressed with your resumé.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“We checked with your former employer in Abuja and your boss gave an excellent attestation of you,” he looked at me, as though he was expecting me to say something.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just settled on, “Okay.”

He smiled at me, asked me a few questions, and then handed me an envelope, urging me to open it. I did, and the content of the letter in the envelope drove me to immediate tears. I was beyond overwhelmed by the offer. I was not only going to be employed to work directly under the company’s managing director, but I would get an apartment and an official car.

The whole thing was completely surreal. I couldn’t believe how this was happening to me. But I knew one thing for sure now: being good at what you do pays.

I returned home that day feeling ecstatic and light-hearted. Life, it seemed, was brightening up for me once again.

I resumed work the following week on Monday. I felt very self conscious as I walked into my new workplace and felt all eyes on me. I paused for a while to fraternize with the clerical staff, and in just a glance, I took notice of the queers. I smiled and waved at them all, before proceeding on to what was going to be my office.

Once ensconced inside my office, I went down on my knees and said a few words of prayer. I am not a churchy person, but I don’t joke with my spirituality and I make God my point of reference in everything. And in that moment, while I was in a room that was going to be referred to as “GT’s office”, I needed to recognise God in this too.

“Good morning, sir. The MD would like to see you,” a lady who it turned out would be my secretary, came in moments later to say to me.

Sir? I am now somebody’s sir? I now have a secretary?

Baba God, You too much!

She led the way to the director’s office, which was just adjacent from mine. She was his secretary as well.

The man inside the office was focused on something he was doing on his computer. I greeted him and he gestured for me to have a seat. I sat and waited. A few minutes later, he looked up and at me. He stared so hard at me that I began to feel tensioned, so tensioned I flashed an awkward smile at him. You know, that confused smile you give when you don’t know exactly how to react in the situation you’re in.

“You’re quite young with such qualifications and experience,” he finally said with a smile.

I let out a quiet sigh, feeling my anxiety reduce.

Then he went into the business of updating me on my responsibilities. He told me I would be reviewing reports from different departments and doing most of the company’s paper work before they get forwarded to him for his signatory. He handed some files to me to review and give him a report on in a week’s time.

“Feel free around in here, seeing as you will be in my office a lot more than you will be in yours,” he said in a jocular manner that caused us both to laugh.

I picked up the files and made to leave.

“So, you speak Spanish?”

So, he’d actually read my resumé, I thought.

“Sí, señor,” I said.

He nodded with a smile and I felt like I had scored a minor victory with him.

When I got to my office, I met a cup of coffee and a laptop, courtesy of the company. This was all new to me, but with time, I would go on to adjust perfectly into my new life.

That day, midway into work, I got a call from Ifiok. I answered and he didn’t waste time. He dived straight into accusing me of not being a good friend. I apologized. He asked to see me, and I told him that wouldn’t be possible because I was at work. I told him the weekend was a free time for me and this time, he could visit. He said okay.

A whole lot happened within the week that made me totally forget about Ifiok. At the end of work that first day, after tidying up my desk and saying my goodbye to my boss, I got to the lobby to meet Mr. Sokari. He was smiling as he approached me and dropped another surprise on me. My official car was ready and he wanted to assign me a driver. I asked him if I could be allowed to employ my own driver, and he was cool with it.

Solabo was a longtime friend of mine. He was a skilled driver and gay as fuck. I knew he was out of a job and I wanted to give him this opportunity. I sent him a message, asking him to come with his application the next day to the office. (If you have any opportunity to do so, please do not hesitate to help a community member with no strings attached).

The apartment was situated in an exquisite part of Port Harcourt City. It was a two-bedroom flat that was already furnished. The whole situation was just too much to take in. I stood there in the living room crying, not because I was sad but because I was remembering my late father’s dreams for me and my mother’s efforts to always support me. I could recognise how much everything my parents had sowed into my life was finally paying off.

I went to my aunt’s house in Agip and began the tedious task of moving my things.

By the time the weekend came upon me, it was Ifiok’s call on Saturday morning that reminded me of his intended visit. I gave him my address on WhatsApp, and less than an hour later, he called to tell me he was at my gate. I called Solabo to let him in. Solabo was staying with me, but his official duty as my driver was just on weekdays, but I let him stay with me because I needed him on the weekend to take me around the city, seeing as I both didn’t know Port Harcourt very well and I wasn’t a good driver yet.

Ifiok looked very sexy that Saturday morning, in his loose-fitting, brightly-coloured vintage shirt, ripped blue jeans and sneakers. We hugged for a while; it was immediately evident that I had missed him very much and he had missed me too. Food was soon ready and the three of us ate at the same table. After the meal, Solabo excused himself and left us alone.

Ifiok and I started talking, about everything, until we finally landed on the events that happened when I visited him. He talked about how he was starting to think that I didn’t like him enough to have sex with him. I laughed at this. He was really in his feelings about the situation and went off on a small rant about it. When I’d had enough of his long talk, I interrupted him.

“It’s not about whether I like you or not, because I can assure you that I like you very much. I was simply protecting the two us. Having sex, whether unprotected or not, is not evidence of affection, but simply an exercise of lust. But having unprotected sex is a risk to one’s health, especially when you do not know about your partner’s health status.”

“What do you mean?” he said, giving me a measured look.

I took a moment to breathe in deeply and then out. And then, accepting that anything could happen from here on out, I said, “Ifiok, I am HIV Positive.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Written by GT