You’ve read the stories.

We Are Here: The Attack.

We Are Here: The Hunt.

We Are Here: The Retribution.

And I was a survivor of the experience.

In the stories, they were named Black, Cross and Herod.

In real life, they bore the nicknames Big D, Trinity and Pharaoh.

And I wanted them to hurt like they hurt me.

It was around 7 pm. I was listening to Jussie Smollett and Yazz’s Ain’t About The Money on repeat, while I was eating the ice cream that I’d been craving for quite some time now. Eating the ice cream was a guilty pleasure, because my mind was getting tortured with thoughts about how I really should cut down on my intake of these sugary treats, even though it wasn’t telling on my body yet.

With the song on repeat, I felt my mind start to sway to the music. It was an odd feeling, perhaps precipitated by the ice cream. I felt the rush of thoughts pouring in, thoughts and memories of those particularly harrowing days in school, when my friends and I were attacked.

And how the culprits were dealt with – at least, to the satisfaction of my friends.

See ehn, I’m not your average person when it comes to a lot of things, especially when revenge is involved. Sometimes I wonder how vengeful I would have been if I was Gemini or Scorpio.

Sometimes, I think about it and the only logical response I give myself is the colloquial theory of Newton’s Second Law of Motion, which states that (I’m paraphrasing here please) the force exerted and its opposite reaction must be equal. This means that the way I love with every fibre in me is the way I get vengeful when I am crossed. Very few times, I try to get logical and let it slide. And often times, I relish it and fully explore that dark part of me to the fullest.

Of course, I had to agree with my friends back then on the appropriateness of the consequence the police visited on our attackers. But I wanted more. I wanted their blood, just as they took mine. So, while I played concession in their presence, I plotted for my own private pound of flesh.

During that tumultuous period, a friend I asked over to help with the case came along with a friend of his. This friend of his, who we shall call Francis, was among the leaders of the fraternity to which some of our attackers belonged to.

He observed me and noticed that I wanted more justice than what the police gave us. He called me aside and asked me what I really wanted. I told him that he already knew we were pursuing the case through both the police and the school authority. At some point, my friends reasoned that our attackers were getting enough retribution from the police side of the case, and so, we should take away our energies from the school authority side of the case. There was a HOD who wanted to head up the case, all the way to getting the four of them rusticated from the school. My friends balked at that and simply decided to focus on the police end of things.


I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to feel pain. I wanted them to hurt for ages.

But since I was the only one who wanted more, I acquiesced to what the others wanted, all the while deciding to go about exacting my revenge my way.

So when Francis asked me if I was satisfied by the proceedings, I said NO.

He asked me what would make me satisfied, and I told him I wanted to meet Pharaoh in person, and then, I would decide what to do with him. I also wanted the same for Big D. But for Trinity, I wanted an extra year in school for him.

Francis looked solemnly at me, nodded and didn’t say anything more.

A month later, when everything seemed forgotten and I was at home still recuperating from the experience, Francis called. He told me to come to Agbani, that he and his boys had Pharaoh.

I was surprised by this. I thought Pharaoh had returned to Lagos, where he lived, seeing as school was over. “How come he’s in Enugu?” I asked Francis.

“I made you a promise,” he replied in a solemn voice. “And I take my word seriously.”

I told him I’d be on the next bus over, and we agreed on the time they should expect me.

I travelled to Enugu and chartered a keke to the location in Agbani. When the keke dropped me, I had to trek some distance to the exact location which Francis had communicated to me. I entered the building and I met Francis. We shook hands and then hugged, before he led me deeper inside the building. He took me to one of the rooms.

And in it, I saw Pharaoh bound to a chair, stark naked, with a gag stuffed inside his mouth.

Words cannot describe the savage pleasure I got from the shock I saw in his eyes when he saw me.

I walked slowly up to him.

And I began to speak to him.

I asked him how it felt to be on the other side, the side of the one getting terrorized. I asked him if he remembered how it felt to make someone powerless and at his mercy just because he could. I asked him if he remembered how he and his friends wielded their power over Mitch and I the night they allowed their bigotry and self hate overtake their sense of reasoning by attacking us, mercilessly so in spite of how much we begged and struggled against their cruelty.

“Can you possibly imagine how powerless we felt then?” I asked him. “I’m sure you can now, because you are the one feeling that way. You’ve only been held for not even up to a week, they haven’t even touched you, and here you are shaking. After all that, where has that led you?”

As I spoke to him, I was thinking hard for a way to inflict pain on him. Not physically, but psychologically. I wanted something, desperately wanted something. But I couldn’t come up with anything that would give me satisfaction.

When I was done with him, I turned to leave the room. Then he began struggling on the seat upon which he was bound, causing the chair to make a screeching sound as the legs scratched against the floor. I looked back at him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was working around the gag. It was apparent he wanted to say something.

I went to him and took out the gag. He immediately began pleading with me, that I should forgive him. I should forgive and forget, and let him go. He said he was afraid of what would happen to him when I leave. That Francis and his boys hadn’t touched him because they were waiting for me to see him, and now that I have seen him, they’d promised to rape him in turns. He also said that his capon was angry with him over what they did, and because of that, he had given Francis the go-ahead to capture him.

He begged me to plead with all these people on his behalf.

I didn’t say a word to him. I just stuffed the gag back into his mouth and walked out of the room.

I met Francis outside, and told him to keep Pharaoh there one more week, all the while doing all they can to keep him very afraid. Pharaoh had unwittingly given me my psychological torture of him, and I was only too happy to mete it out on him.

On our way out, I had a very long discussion with Francis. I was very grateful to him for keeping his word and bringing this satisfaction to me. I asked him about the other guys who attacked me and my friends. He told me he had handled Trinity; he had arranged for his exam script to be stolen. As he said this, he produced the motherfucker’s script and showed it to me. I smiled. It was a three-unit-load final-year course. He also told me that he was supposed to go to Lagos that weekend and that that was where his trailing of Big D was leading him. He would get to kill two birds with one stone: go home and deal with Big D. I told him not to inflict any physical harm on Big D. I just wanted him to know the powerlessness he and his friends had made me feel.

At the end of our talk, we hugged and then waved each other goodbye, with me promising to call him when I get back home. I told him I would keep in touch with him and visit him whenever I could.

I think it was around my second semester final year that someone chatted me up. It was Big D. He was in my chat, asking for forgiveness, blah, blah, blah. He said he didn’t know what came over him, talked about how he still regretted how involved he was with what happened to me and my friends, especially Mitch. I didn’t have the energy to hate him anymore, but I got some satisfaction from adding him on WhatsApp and then ensuring that my WhatsApp statuses were frequently filled with gay stuff. Since he was a regular at viewing my posts, I was sure he was getting to see all these things that made him so homophobic before. He seemed to handle my statuses well though; when I posted a studio photo of my nude, cake-splattered self on my birthday, he complimented the pic, saying it was dope.

One last thing I have to say is this: pain is a tricky thing. One thing these kitoers always seem to think is that they have all the power. And that their victims will always be helpless and weak. But beneath that fragility may lie a mean streak that will strike back. It is man’s actions that make man wicked.

As for me, after that experience, I resolved that no one, NO ONE, will ever get the power to treat me like I’m less human just because I am gay.

Written by Sage Philip

Previous Simi gets called out on Twitter for her hypocrisy regarding the recognition of human rights
Next You Could Be Minding Your Business And A Homophobe Will Come After You

About author

You might also like

Our Stories 33 Comments

The Piece About The Body Image Struggles Of Men

Originally published on The fruitless quest for a “perfect” body isn’t unique to women, though based on the body image conversations we tend to hear, it’s easy to think

Our Stories 18 Comments

That Piece About Why The Gay Man Unfriended His Mother

Written by Jase Peeples, originally published on with the title ‘Op-ed: Why I Unfriended My Mother’. * We may have won the battle for same-sex marriage in the United

Our Stories 50 Comments


Previously on AT THE END OF MY BREATH… * I was starting to make new friends online, some of whom I’ve met and some of whom I haven’t. Dillish was


  1. Delle
    May 29, 08:38 Reply

    Yes, you have a side of you that always shook me.

    I remember the day you all were over at my place and we asked the question: ‘your biggest fantasy’ and you said what you said (don’t know if I should state it here cos it’s all disconcerting even now, after three years). I also know how strong you are a person.
    You’re like the only friend I have and know who can climb a mango tree and would pluck all that there is. First time you did that, words can’t explain how I felt even after you had told me you can. Perhaps, I’m this impressed by that because I don’t know what to do with a tree other than take good pictures by it or run around it with my dream lover.

    Above all, you’re a good person. We all just absorb pain differently. All through that attack (witch-hunt), I waited with bated breath for them to bound into my room and deal with me as they did y’all but they never did. Yet, seeing all of you, my closest friends get tortured one-by-one, like some horror movie, Lord knows it was just as painful. Maybe even more because I had to nurse all of you. And then we decided not to let it slide. Nest decision ever and the most invigorating thing I’ve ever been a part of.

    Gay men are weak? Pffts! I laugh at that horrid misconception because we’re only peace-loving but when push comes to shove, we can be just as vicious. We should be more of this, truth be told.

    I’m glad you did what you did even if we were all in the dark of it. I’m a big fan of one getting closure, doesn’t matter how he goes about it. Satisfy your conscience.

    Your last paragraph, deserving of an ovation!
    You’re alright, Philip ❤

    • Sage Philip
      June 09, 08:49 Reply

      I love that side of me, more especially because I am in full control.

  2. Pie
    May 29, 08:56 Reply

    I can’t help but wonder what Francis asked for in return of the favor?

    • Oba of Benin
      May 30, 01:36 Reply

      I keep wondering what Francis will ask for in return o no be lie ??

    • Sage Philip
      June 09, 08:53 Reply

      Me am surprised too. When I brought it up the last time we met, he just acted like mehh, it’s nothing.

  3. Eddie
    May 29, 08:59 Reply

    This story gave me life and sweet eternity….. Karma is a such a wonderful bitch?

  4. trystham
    May 29, 09:40 Reply

    I read through all the stories, and somehow, I don’t think it is still enough. I wish they all died

    • Sage Philip
      June 09, 08:55 Reply

      Well there blood is not worth me soiling my hands.

      • Tommzy
        August 06, 17:13 Reply

        Philip, can I get to know you?
        I’m a student in Esut and I need to know my grounds. Thank you.

  5. Manny
    May 29, 10:50 Reply

    I saw pictures of these guys. I knew Black from my first year in the University in NFCS. I’m genuinely surprised oooo. That guy used to be a good boy in first year when he was in NFCS…… Aaaaaah

    I’m happy you got your revenge. This narration looked like something that happened in either Odenigwe or Hilltop.

    • Sage Philip
      June 09, 08:58 Reply

      Nah, I never liked hilltop or odenigwe. something about that place makes me loose grip on my alter ego.

  6. Mitch
    May 29, 12:11 Reply

    Woddifok, mhen!

    See ehn, there’s moments when I look back at that event and I wonder if we took the right decision by letting shit end.

    But this?
    This course of action right here?
    This is the reason why you are my fucking baby, Sage Philip.
    Being in Deaconess’s house was spoiling my vibe and making me go soft. And you just went the fuck ahead, got shit done, and kept fucking mum about it.

    You and I have a very fucking long talk to have. Far too much shit’s happened and we’ve let distance develop.

    Whatevs, mhen!
    Just know I’m fucking proud of you.
    And I fucking love you!

    • Sage Philip
      June 09, 09:08 Reply

      Yes ohhhhh, lots of gist.
      Life have a way of creating distance…

  7. Geminiguy
    May 29, 14:44 Reply

    Mad o. I didnt know stuff like this happens in real life. Ive lived a sheltered life lmao

  8. Demi
    May 29, 23:02 Reply

    I had to go through the whole story again.. It was horrible what those fools did.. I’m delighted they all got burned too and sage is just a darling for dealing with them further.. I’m sure that modafuka wrote rubbish in that exam sef.. Lol i want more of this ending against all of our numerous kitoers..

  9. Peaches
    May 31, 10:08 Reply

    Just wow!.
    I like you, Sage. But i would not just let somebody else do psychological damages to my attacker, if there is anybody who has a fucking right to stamp a payback on their forehead with a rusty knife, it is me.
    Kudos tho.

  10. Kizo
    June 17, 18:31 Reply

    This story gave me so much joy!!! You did well but honestly it could have been the best if that bitch ass nigga was raped!! Mtchwww. Lovely story ?

    • Danté
      July 27, 14:40 Reply

      I swear… God that would’ve been so mentally satisfying

Leave a Reply