Now, Obi Knows

Now, Obi Knows

THEN

Obi was sitting on a mattress, his back against the wall in a dirty hostel room the first time you saw him. There were other people in the room too, so you greeted all of them before you shook Obi’s hand. He had soft fingers.

He was wearing a striped T-shirt over grey sweatpants and you remember that he didn’t really strike you then. He was just another boy in a hostel room full of boys.

Until he perched on your back.

You want to believe that perhaps it was before this. That you might have seen it in his beautiful face, in the gentle naivete of his being or perhaps, in the lull of his reserve. But you know quite well that the fire was lit from the moment Obi climbed on your back.

You were lying on a dingy mattress and Obi placed all of his weight on your body and you faked pain even though there was, for the briefest of moments, a small stir in your loins. You hadn’t felt something like that in a while. Not since secondary school anyway. And you could’ve been expelled for that, remember?

Your interest in Obi was spiked after this. You found excuses to come to his room every day, so that you became more or less of a roommate. If you wanted to charge your phone – Obi’s room. If you needed water – Obi’s room. If you were locked out of your own room – Obi’s room. If the world was coming to an end – Obi’s room.

He was the first person you saw whenever you walked into Room 233. You’d make sure to feel the fullness of his fingers, hoping that the lingering nature of your handshakes would suggest to him what you were feeling about him. Whenever you were helming a conversation, you always tried to draw him in, any excuse to listen to the lilting cadence of his voice. When you cracked a joke, you wanted him to laugh so that you could see his face crinkle from the strain of a smile, or split from the force of laughter.

You. Wanted. Him.

But you didn’t want to be too… obvious? After all, you’d almost gotten expelled from secondary school, remember?

Obi was the still of new beginnings, the graceful quietude of contented silence. You knew because you stared. A lot. Black Boy and UB and Ken and Charlie and King could be arguing about something, and Obi would be firmly spectating or staring out the window. Into space? Lost in his thoughts? Hungry?

It touched something in you, this ability of his to be calmly detached from whirlpools of noise and whatnot. Obi seemed like the kind of person who’d be able to read a book in the midst of a tank battle. He reminded you of a younger you – the you that existed before you almost got expelled in secondary school.

Before you would ask for his number, you got to know that Obi’s father was a pastor or something like that. You couldn’t be certain, but one day, Obi showed you a book from his father’s library. A really small book. It contained the confessions of a “repented” man who claimed to have straddled astral planes and mastered demons. You were happy that Obi read books too. You were inordinately pleased when he told you he’d read Purple Hibiscus and loved Adele. You couldn’t believe that he lived in Lagos because Lagos people were crazy and Obi was milk and honey perfectly brought together. He was so soft.

“You don’t even look like a Lagos Boy,” You told him.

He smiled. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “You’re just so… calm.”

Before you went home, you asked for his number. Actually, you’d waited until he left his room and went to fetch water from the tap. You didn’t want to ask him in front of his roommates; it would have been somehow.

On the bus, you kept bringing out your lecture notebook so that you could mouth the digits of his phone number from where you’d hastily scribbled them on the back. By the time you got home, you’d already memorized his number

The first night you slept in his room was the start of your problem. The problem. Eight boys weren’t supposed to be sardined in a room meant for two, but you didn’t care that you were number nine. You had a dirty plan in mind.

A reckless plan that had you wedged between Obi and a sonorous snoring machine of a guy. Obi had on those fake Nike sweatpants, and in the middle of the night or somewhere between 1 to 3 AM, you put your finger on his pert butt. And pushed gently into him until his bum rested on your crotch.

You could have been caught, you know. Someone was awake at the time – Black Boy? — watching Game of Thrones. You could have put Obi in trouble. You could have put yourself in trouble, like in secondary school.

Damn you!

And now, Obi knows.

 

NOW

You know you deserve this. The pain, the loss, the uncertainty – these consequences are exactly what you deserve.

Obi hates you now. Maybe not hate-hate like that. Not enough to cut your dick off with a rusty dagger and feed it to a stray dog anyway. Obi has always been a person of restraint. But with what you’ve done, he could spit in your face. Or get his roommates to beat you up. Or call your mother to tell her what you did.

Even so, all that would have been a fair punishment, preferable to what he actually did to you.

He cut you out of his life. Snip. Snip. And you were shut out of his light. Into the darkness of the outside.

And it is all your fault.

Written by Anon

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  1. Mitch
    December 22, 07:49 Reply

    Whoa!
    This was such a riveting read.
    There’s something intensely beautiful about writing in the 2nd person. Words cease to be just words. They become pure orgasm.

    Thank you, Anon, for blessing us with this today.

  2. Mandy
    December 22, 10:28 Reply

    There are times when I’ll just be, and I’ll be imagining a world where gay people have the unique power to just look at someone, and something visible, maybe a halo glitter, will tell you definitively that the other person is gay.

    It’s so frustrating, this “they no dey write gay for face” situation we are faced with whenever we see a crush and have to start tormenting ourselves over our attraction to him.

    • Higwe
      December 22, 15:40 Reply

      Incredible …

      I mean I would love to have unique powers that will tell me beforehand that the business I’m investing all my life savings in won’t be a bust .

      Heck – I’d like a clairvoyant’s time machine that will spell out my future for me , so I’ll know where not to waste my time.

      Ever wondered why movies like Avengers , Iron Man , Superman , Wonder Woman etcetera decapitate the box office … because humans all innately wish to possess supernatural abilities,we get to live out our fantasies through these movies ….but alas , we just have to settle as just being MEN .

      In all these though , where does self control and human restraint come in ?

      You know that little thing that puts us above gorillas and lions.

      The dangling red button that curbs our primeval urges and creates a clear disparity between man and beast . ??‍♂️??‍♂️??‍♂️

  3. Hannibal
    December 22, 13:29 Reply

    I can totally relate to this. Including the ending. I’ve done all of that, and more. Lol. Riveting read

    • Higwe
      December 22, 15:16 Reply

      Kitinadiaries….??? , no shit .

      I’d like to think this place caters to all genders …nope???‍♂️

      My bad .

  4. C
    December 22, 13:56 Reply

    Pls is there like a lesbian version of kito diaries? Anyone??

  5. Sky
    December 22, 14:39 Reply

    This is so good…Going through something sorta similar

  6. Terra
    December 22, 18:05 Reply

    I like this, because it didn’t end in a cheesy way. And also because it teaches what a lot of gays in Nigeria need to learn. “YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES GODDAMIT”. Leave that straight man alone today. If you don’t meet online or get introduced by a friend, assume he’s straight. Statistically speaking, a man is more likely to be straight than gay. Let’s leave lusting after straight men in 2019 please. It’s not worth the risk

    • BRYAN PETERS
      December 22, 22:46 Reply

      And even if he were gay, there’s the issue of consent, which when absent is just blatant abuse.

      • Black Dynasty
        December 23, 08:31 Reply

        This, exactly this.
        If they haven’t given a go ahead, restrain yourself; we aren’t animals.

        Excellent writing @ the author!

  7. Delle
    December 22, 20:55 Reply

    Damn!

    I want a movie version of this.

  8. Haiku
    December 23, 20:07 Reply

    This one pushed way too hard* into his fantasy… Wtf! 9 nrn in a room,no ho ahead given… Just own lustiful desires which he felt so desperate to quench… Even if it were me u would have shut you out if my life…. LoL
    That was so high a risk dear

  9. Ola
    December 24, 14:31 Reply

    Wow.

    This is dazzling. The storytelling and the revelation.

    Thank you for this.

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