The King of Boys
The first time you met him stirred things inside you that you didn’t even know still existed. You felt like he strummed your strings – heart strings, like one of your J.D Robb novels described it.
Strings he would eventually destroy.
But as it were, you will never have need for them.
It’s just as well – as you let your mind drift…
BEGINNING. BLOSSOMS…
That day was magical. He was the kind of man you never thought you’d be able to have.
He was seated in the far corner on of the waiting room iron benches, his face staring down to the ground through his parted muscular thighs, evidently not trying to make conversation with anyone in that hall where a lot of people had gathered for the audition.
You went to sit close to him. At first, he had appeared shy. Sullen. But you were persistent. You chatted and eventually got him to smile. It turned out he had a sense of humour, because he soon had you laughing as well. It was effortless, his charm.
And it only felt natural for you two to exchange contacts when he was called in.
He is a bodybuilder.
You’d have used ‘was’, but you know he’s still out there. Somewhere. Bulking up the mass of his muscles. And the toxicity in his heart.
You bear him no good will. You wish he will drop dead.
But before this poison he made you feel, first, he made your world whole.
That day in the waiting room was just the beginning. Neither of you officially asked each other out. The chemistry simply flowed and made things happen.
You two became an almost inseparable item.
It was beautiful – the way he held you in his arms, the hunger you tasted in his kisses, the way you felt protected by him.
Then he called you “my woman”.
That stopped you on your tracks the first day he said it.
It would be the first of many.
His woman.
You hated it. You hated the way he loved to emasculate you simply you were a lot more physically expressive, with your limp-wristed gestures and high-pitched expressions. You had to make him understand you were just as male as he was.
But he’d wave off your ranting, calling you dramatic and silencing your protests with a kiss on your lips.
And you allowed yourself to be silence, because you loved him.
Yes. You loved Jekwu.
HALT. RED LIGHTS!
Jekwu had an issue with the way you laughed in your high-pitched voice. The way you moved your hands about when you were in the middle of a conversation. The way you tossed your head as though to push back a sheaf of hair.
He had an issue with you crossing your legs. With how excitable you got – squealing when you were startled or expressively ecstatic when you were happy.
He had a problem with all of this.
But only in public.
You would come to realize that he didn’t mind you being this true to yourself within the confines of his apartment. He would even call you the Beyoncé to his Jay-Z when you danced for him, sensuously to the slow beat of the pop star’s Naughty Girl or to the faster rhythm of Run the World. He would wear a lascivious smile on his face when you gave him a lap dance, gyrating your lithe body all over his sinewy thighs.
He loved it when you scolded him. He considered your ire a turn-on. He said it brought out the feistiness in you and made him want to grab you and ravage you with his passion.
But in public, Jekwu was different. A whole new persona was on display. He was never as chatty. Almost unfriendly.
You went on dates at night. You only ever met a few of his friends, meetings that were mostly accidental – a random run-in here, an unexpected social call there.
Is he ashamed of me? You often asked yourself.
Are you ashamed of me? You asked him in bed one night when you couldn’t bear the desolation of your thoughts. The night he made you salty spaghetti and cow meat stew. He rarely cooked. Did not know how to. He said when he cooked for you, it was a token of his love. And you did feel loved, this you couldn’t deny.
Yet you asked the question. And it pained you that he brushed it aside, the way he usually did with things that he didn’t want to talk about.
ZENITH. THE CLIMAX.
Then he put his hand on you. No, not out of desire. But of anger.
He struck you when you said no to his instruction for you to do his laundry. You were very domesticated around his house, but you took care not to let him get too used to that. His first reaction when you declined was to laugh. As though he thought you were kidding. Then he asked if you were being serious, when he saw you didn’t crack a smile.
You said you were deadly serious – that you would help him do his laundry only because you wanted to, not because he demanded for you to do it.
He rose from where he was sitting, clear anger in his eyes, approached you and called you the woman. Nwanyi no n’ulo, he spat at you.
You had asked him several times not to call you that. You got incensed. Ignoring his hulking frame, you hurled your own insult back at him. You called him lazy for expecting things to be done for him.
That was as far as you got.
The stinging sensation that lashed across your cheek choked off the rest of what you’d been about to say. Shock registered as you clutched your burning cheek and stared at him. Shock that gradually gave way to anger as hot tears began pouring from your eyes.
You two stared at each other, neither of you knowing what to do with what had just happened. he looked instantly contrite, like he couldn’t believe he had just slapped you.
You turned and fled into the room, locking the door. He came knocking almost immediately, begging you through the door. Telling you he was sorry. That he didn’t mean to do what he did. That you had made him so angry.
You lay curled up in bed, ignoring him. And sobbing over this bad romance.
RESOLUTION. EXTRICATION. FREEDOM…
He took you to the movies. An atonement for what happened. You’d always wanted to see Kemi Adetiba’s King of Boys with him, but he’d often claimed not to have time. Now he did. He was making a grand gesture.
The movie time was 9PM.
Sola Sobowale was such a brilliant actor. At some point, you got tear-eyed, sniffling and dabbing at your eyes with your handkerchief as you allowed yourself to be drawn in into the world unfolding on the large screen.
You are crying, he said next to you.
You turned to him and started chuckling through your tears, thinking he was being playful. But the bubble of mirth died with his next words.
Ordinary film and you’re crying – Jeezuz! he hissed. There was no mistaking the edge in his voice.
He was angry.
He was again embarrassed by you.
Yes, I cry when I watch emotional movies, you snapped.
You had had it. You had to believe that whatever was going on was his problem and not yours. These insecurities were his, not yours.
He shook his head, his derision apparent even in the shadowed space.
You keep telling me you are a man, but you’re not, he said. How can you be a man when you cannot even act like a man for once!
Those words struck you like a grenade, detonating inside you when they hit their mark. That had to be the worst thing he’d yet said to you.
Fresh tears brimmed, and you blinked in a desperate attempt to shut them back in. But they fell. You stared at him through the tears, but he was looking at the screen. He had said his piece. He was back to the action on the screen. Sparing you no thought after the cruelty of his words.
There are moments that come in every victim’s life – that moment when he or she realises he can either grab onto the lifeline and escape, or ignore it and stay on in the vortex of their pain.
This was that moment for you, and Lord knows you still had the presence of mind to cease it.
You snatched up your sling bag and got to your feet.
Where do you think you are going? He asked, startled by your abrupt movement.
You ignored him. He grabbed at your hand and you jerked it back with such force, he quickly let you go.
Stop… Where are you going… Is it because of what I said… Small thing like that and you are vexing…! He hissed the words at you as you moved inelegantly away from your seat and past the empty pew to the aisle.
With your resolve set, you walked. Walked until you were out of the cinema. Out of the mall. And into the city night.
Out of Jekwu’s life.
You walked away, leaving him to be that which he thinks he is:
The King of Boys.
Written by Delle
About author
You might also like
PROMISES, PROMISES
It is a beautiful balmy afternoon, the sun banished behind the cumuli of clouds that is preserving the pleasant coolness in the atmosphere. As you step out onto the street,
Numbers Is The New Two
Tunde has done it. He simply plans to ruin me – yes! It’s a vendetta of sorts. I knew I couldn’t trust it, couldn’t trust Jordan, couldn’t trust him. But
SERENDIPITY
They met at a colleague’s wedding. Evans was forced to attend since the entire office would be going. He avoided any interaction with his colleagues outside work and this had
34 Comments
Olaminrewaju
January 27, 08:19This Jekwu is another toxic masculinity at it’s peakand btw who dates guys that make salty spaghetti
Pink Panther
January 27, 09:13??? Is salty spaghetti a relationship no-no? Biko tell me so I’ll add that to my list.
Delle
January 27, 22:10Ah you wee eat beans that isn’t well cooked in the name of love, B?
Francis
January 27, 09:56Toxic masculinity + IH sturvs. What a combo.
Delle
January 27, 22:11I’ve come to realise that MOST hypermasculine guys are internally homophobic.
Patrick
January 28, 02:10Hypermasculine queer guys? Then yes, of course…
Delle
January 28, 13:01Apt.
Pete
January 27, 12:31Delle, come *hug*. It’ll be alright.
Delle
January 27, 22:11It’s fiction, Pete.
OMIETE
January 27, 15:03Omg Delle marry me please. This is a beautiful story. People like Jekwu need to be wiped from the face of the earth. I pray that we are strengthened to stand up against people like this and truly know that we deserve to be loved better
Delle
January 27, 22:19❤❤❤
Black Dynasty
January 27, 16:15Phew, i had to check that this was fiction.
Beautifully written story, definitely a reminder not to ignore red flags.
Delle
January 27, 22:19Oh we should definitely have this sounded repeatedly.
AduResa
January 27, 18:13So i had to go check the category of the story, i thought it was non-fiction, Delle is such a brilliant writer sha, the way King of Boys made it to KD page
Delle
January 27, 22:20Thanks AduResa ?
BRYAN PETERS
January 27, 22:24Awesome story. Beautifully written piece. Emotional abuse hurts as much as physical abuse. Words and actions that sting as much as a slap on the face. The true courage is not braving the abuse and forging ahead. Rather, it is being strong enough to walk away from the toxicity.
Delle
January 28, 13:01????
Kamsi
January 29, 06:25Omg Delle please continue ??
The idea that men should be strong or tough and take whatever is dished out. This stuff is ingrained. Let’s be a bit more tolerant of imperfection on the path to progress.
Delle
January 29, 09:09As a matter of fact, femininity is not a measure of perfection. It just is.
Kayeze
January 30, 10:32For me I believe every one has thier preference , based on the society we live .. I am not afraid to say ds .. but apart from the laziness, lack of culinary skills and aggressive part… I think I am like Jekwu not because I wanna … But because I don’t want to get implicated or lynched by the outside world …
Feminity is good , but if u r with d Romans please be like a Roman … Stop flipping hair wey nor dey there…
Pple might come for me. I don’t mind
Delle
January 30, 16:23Don’t worry, no one has such time to waste coming for you. It’s obvious you do not even believe the BS you typed. That’s enough punishment.
Kayeze
January 31, 08:02Thanks bro I really appreciate this comment … But I don’t type just because I want to …. I type only what I believe. my dear
BRYAN PETERS
January 30, 21:34Of course, we have a right to our preferences. However, that’s not a licence to discriminate. It’s ok not to be attracted to femmes. Jekwu obviously had issues with it, so he should have let him go. The victim was someone who was comfortable in his femininity; something Jekwu admired in private but not in public. Don’t you see the double standard? Right from addressing your fellow man as “My woman” to his disapproval is a form of emotional abuse. All the “you can’t even act like a man” crap is verbal abuse. And of course, the obvious physical abuse.
My point? You don’t like something about someone, then let them be. Leave them for people who love such things. For the fact that you said you are like Jekwu without the stuff you listed, I’d like to let you know you have the potential to be abusive. Please, if someone doesn’t want to behave like a “Roman in Rome”, then please, leave them alone. DO NOT ABUSE THEM!!!
Kayeze
January 31, 18:11Mr Bryan I understand you perfectly … I will never force a relationship on u… When u don’t like how I am n I don’t like the way u r … And we seem not to mellow for each other … It’s just wrong
In the confines of our room we can choose to be anything but outside .. we should learn to comport our selves … ESP in the kind of society we find ourselves…
I am some one with so many portfolio, in religious environment especially …. I try to strive under d covers.to avoid issues
BRYAN PETERS
February 02, 00:12Comportment is very relative. Plus someone with all your portfolio has no business dating a publicly effeminate person. He has a right to be a femme in private and public. It’s not in your place to insist that he “comports himself”. You want to strive under the covers, then do it with someone who shares your views. Leave people who are comfortable being effeminate in public to express themselves the way they want to. You have no right to suggest that they are wrong for doing so.
And about the guys who wanted to call each other mama and sisters, well, it’s their choice.
You were not comfortable so you left early. That’s the right thing to do. It is your right and your choice but let it end there because that’s how they choose to express themselves. You don’t like it, then walk away like you did. Keep your disgust to yourself because that’s just the way homophobes are disgusted by you choice of a bed mate.
This here is internalized homophobia. You left cos you are not comfortable in your own skin, so much so that people being comfortable in their own skin disgusts you.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging you or anything but live and let live. Let people who are comfortable with their sexuality be. If they want to flaunt it, then let them do so. It’s theirs to flaunt not yours. Live your life the way you are comfortable with and don’t see others as wrong for not confirming to your standards as long as they are not hurting anyone.
Pink Panther
February 02, 04:58PREACH THIS!!!
Delle
February 12, 13:55Bryan, I love your brain!
Thank you.
Cedar
January 31, 00:39This was so me not quite long. Dude kept throwing up these red lights but I kept taking them, all in the name of love. Thank goodness I had the sense to quit the toxic relationship before it got physical.
To all of you who will f**k my bugaina but are ashamed of my “feminity”, I say tueh.
vince
January 31, 08:56for a beautiful relationship to flourish there should be compromise. both parties should have compromised by adjusting to each others preference. Jekwu loved his feminity indoors and He(unnamed partner) believed strongly He was a man.He should have contained his feminity when He is out in Public, cos its Nigeria and we ve got to look out for ourselves..
Pink Panther
January 31, 09:09And that’s a compromise? Do you even know the meaning of the word “compromise”? The lover should do exactly what Jekwu wants is what you call a compromise?
And I find it very distasteful when people, ESPECIALLY queer people, keep throwing “This is Nigeria” out as an excuse to get community members to be silent. to be who they are not.
Nigeria is Nigeria. Nigeria is made up of Nigerians. And Nigeria is what we as Nigerians make it to be.
So instead of encouraging people to hide who they are because “this is Nigeria”, how about encouraging them to be exactly who they are so Nigeria can change and adapt to who they are.
Kayeze
January 31, 18:19Mr Panther ……. It doesn’t work dt way…. only If Atiku cones n repealed d law…. For now
Confines is the best place to express
Pink Panther
January 31, 19:02You are aware that operating this blog is not an example of “confines”, right?
And yet, here we are. Here you are, interacting on a medium you’re preaching against.
Kayeze
January 31, 18:16Mr Vince … Your head will never lack oil… We should be aware of the society we are… I went to see a friend one day for a party …. Where there so many straight guys and ladies….some queer guys was calling each other sisters and mamas n then the gesticulations attire n drama …. O my GAwd … I had to leave early
BRYAN PETERS
February 01, 23:55Wait o. I don’t get it. So he shld be emotionally abused because he didn’t want to or couldn’t “contain” his femininity in public? Is it your feminity? The owner doesn’t want to contain it, won’t you leave the relationship rather than be abusive about it? Compromise in relationships is essential, but at the end of the day, it’s still a choice. Jekwu shld have walked away when his partner wasn’t ready for compromise. He should not have resulted to abuse. ABUSE IS NEVER THE ANSWER