THE STALKER

In February, the news broke that someone, presumably gay, had been murdered in his home by someone he let in, someone who was purportedly a hookup. The news was all over social media, burning up the streets of Queer Twitter, generating hot topics for Twitter Spaces, Clubhouse and WhatsApp groups. It was like April 2020 all over again, when that video of Utali Ekwensu confessing to killing the gay guy, whose body he was caught trying to bury, went viral. Everybody in the community was angry, scared and sad. Even with all that we were going through in this society, brutally-fatal incidents like this still had the power to shake us to our collective marrows.

So that day, two days after the news broke, I was at work, and at intervals during the course of my day, I was multitasking on the internet: on Twitter, still consuming information pertaining to the murder, and on Grindr, chatting with various guys. None of the conversations on Grindr was anything serious, since the guys were all mostly either staying too far away or visiting my area and didn’t have the same availability schedule that I had.

However, there was this one guy who it turned out was living quite close to me, like a taxi ride away from my place. So our chats got more serious as I focused more on him due to the possibility of a hookup with him. Because I was at work, we scheduled to at least meet, when I close by 5, at the junction that was along my way and close to his place. The commute to my place from work involves two taxi rides, one to this junction where we fixed to meet and the second from that junction to my end.

So when I closed from work, I called him. He said he’d meet me at the junction. About fifteen minutes later, when I got there, I called him again. He was on his way. I waited about ten minutes, and then he was walking up to me.

I was immediately deflated when I saw him. It was the typical “he looks WAY better in his pictures” situation. And I was suddenly grateful that this meet wasn’t designed to go anywhere; we would simply see here, talk and then part ways.

Forever!

As we chit-chatted, I couldn’t hide my disappointment well, and I think he saw it, because he began pressing for him to follow me to my house. I declined, saying I was too knackered from work and just needed to go home and lie down. He said we didn’t have to have sex, that he’d simply like to know where I live. I told him I’d be too tired to entertain guests. He seemed morose as he accepted defeat, and asked when we’d see again. I told him I had work all week, that it would have to be the weekend. He said that we should keep chatting. I assured him we would; obviously I was lying through my teeth. As I walked away and headed to the section of the road where taxis were loading to my place, I was blocking him on Grindr. I was grateful then that we hadn’t taken our conversation away from Grindr to WhatsApp.

I got to the car going my way. I slid into the front seat next to the driver, plugged my ear piece to my ears and carried on listening to music. The car was soon filled up with other passengers, and the driver went off.

A few minutes later, I got to my stop. I got down, crossed the road and continued on my way, on the five-minute trek from the main road, inside my estate to my house.

Now because the music is usually on too loud (which is the way I like to listen to music on my ear piece. I like it so loud, it obliterates every other sound beyond my ears), I usually have to keep looking back to be sure there are no cars driving up behind me whose horning I can’t hear. One time, this driver kept blowing his horn behind me as I was walking in the center of the road, and it was the pedestrian in front of me who turned and signaled me to step aside. Since then, I’d cultivated the habit of occasionally looking back whenever I’m walking home to make sure I’m not in vehicular harm’s way.

And that was what I did as I walked home that evening. I turned back and what I saw startled me.

It. Was. That. Guy!!!

I couldn’t believe it. The moment he saw that I’d seen him coming up behind me, he ducked his head and made a few useless motions with his feet, as though he wanted to somehow dash behind a tree or sink through the ground or something. Then he seemed to brace himself and continued walking forward until he came up to me.

I asked him what he was doing following me.

He said he wasn’t following me.

I asked him what he was doing here then.

He said he came to see somebody.

I nodded disbelievingly. Oh really?

“Oya nau, go on then,” I said. “Go on to the person’s house.” And I remained standing and watched him take a few steps forward.

Then he stopped and turned back. The words came out in a rush. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. I was following you. But it’s nothing bad. I just wanted to know where you live so I can visit you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I stared at him, aghast. Everything I consumed the past two days about murdered gay men crowded my head and filled me with anger.

“A surprise?!” I snarled. “You thought trailing me to my house and then suddenly showing up one day without any invitation is something I will like you for? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you realise how creepy you sound?”

“It’s just my romantic way of –”

“Your romantic way of what?! This was supposed to be romantic?!” The short burst of laughter that came out from my mouth was mirthless.

“Look, oga, just turn around now and go back. You are creepy, and even if I was considering having anything to do with you before, I most certainly won’t anymore. Just be going. We are done.”

He glared at me, his mouth working as he clearly began to get angry himself.

And then he said, “What if I decide not to go anywhere? It’s a free world. You can’t tell me what to do.”

My head sparked. But when I spoke, the words came out with quiet intent. “You’re right. I can’t force you to do anything. But know this: if you don’t turn around and go back to where you came from, I will shout. I will shout that you are a homo who is harassing me. I will shout until all these people in my estate start coming out to find out what is happening. I will tell them to check your phone, which I’m sure has Grindr chats and WhatsApp chats with other guys. I will shout and make drama until they beat you up.”

As I was talking, I was increasing my voice, just to drive home my threat.

He stared at me with disbelief. “You can’t do that.”

He was calling my bluff.

I laughed, loudly.

“Try me,” I said in a loud voice.

Two women standing before a convenience store a few yards away – one the owner and the other her customer – turned to look. Another woman inside a nearby seamstress shop peered out of her window to see what was going on. I noticed that we were getting attention. He noticed that too.

“You don’t know me,” I said, my voice still loud. “This is my area. You better think twice before daring me in my area, oga. I will just fuck you up. If you don’t leave here now, I will scream that you are a homo!”

He flinched from my last word, uttered so loudly. Fear had suffused his face, dousing his defiance. Without another look at me, he turned and hastened back to the main road. I stood there and watched him till he boarded a taxi. And then he was gone.

And then I let out a heavy sigh of relief and continued my walk back home.

Written by Ivan