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It’s officially pride month and the gays are outside. If you and your dearly beloved are out there for some quality movie time, you’ll be glad to know that there are some Nollywood gems that tell stories of love, the power of community and acceptance.
And we made a list.
“Hell or High Water”
This movie was released in 2016, two years after Nigeria’s Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act was enacted. Hell or High Water follows the life of a young, married, widely admired pastor. However, he’s soon forced to come to terms with his sexuality; a realisation that initially unsettled him. Hell or High Water exposes the issues of homophobia and societal stigma. Enyinna Nwigwe, Daniel K Daniel, Davies Adedayo, among others star in the movie.
“Walking with Shadows”
Released in 2019, this movie is an adaptation of Jude Dibia’s 2005 novel of the same name.
The movie revolves around the life of gay protagonist Ebele Njoko. In his bid to seek love and familial acceptance, Ebele reinvents himself as Adrian. Everything plays out well for Adrian until a vengeful colleague outs him as gay. Adrian is forced to reveal his sexuality when his wife confronts him. After their divorce, Adrian finds comfort in the power of community when his gay friend offers a helping hand.
Directed by Aoife O’Kelly, Walking with Shadows features Ozzy Agu, Funiola Aofiyebi, Zainab Balogun, among others.
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“All The Colors of The World Are Between Black and White”
This movie should be on your radar if you’re looking for a queer romcom.
Directed by Babatunde Apalawo, it tells the story of two young men, Bambino and Bawa, who become friends after first meeting at a photography competition. The two soon start to develop feelings for each other but they can’t fully express what they feel for each other due to the highly homophobic society. However, the lovebirds are undeterred as they find ways to navigate their feelings. The story shows the importance of love, acceptance and the beauty of human connections. It stars Tope Tedela, Riyo David, Uchechika Elumelu, among others.
“Ife”
This 2020 short was produced by LGBTQ rights advocates and filmmakers, Pamela Adie and Uyaiedu Ikpe-Etim. It tells the love story of Ife and Adaora, two women who fall in love after an initial one-night date that extends to three days spent together. Ife highlights the challenges the experience of the ladies as queer lovers in Nigeria.
“Country Love”
Country Love follows the life of a young man, Kambili, who returns home after fifteen years and finds out that his memories of home have changed. The film explores the bond among siblings, love and sexuality, and their impact on queer people. Kelechi Michaels, Uzoamaka Onuoha and Divine Ahiwe.
The Nigerian experience is physical, emotional, and sometimes international. No one knows it better than our features on #TheAbroadLife, a series where we detail and explore Nigerian experiences while living abroad.
Today’s #AbroadLife feature is an assistant audit manager who works for one of the world’s top accounting firms in New Zealand. He tells us how he got an amazing job opportunity and had to leave Nigeria. He is experiencing cultural shock that has shaken his views and stance on what morality truly is.
What inspired you to move to New Zealand?
So I didn’t have to leave; it was more of a work opportunity I could harness. Despite the economic difficulties, life was already good in Nigeria, and I consider myself lucky. In Nigeria, I worked for one of the biggest accounting firms in the country as an auditor. In September 2022, I saw an offer for auditors being able to work for the same firm in another country’s branch. I had already worked for this firm in Nigeria for three and a half years, so I said, Why not?
Nice! What was the process like for you?
So my migration path is different from others. My company had already worked everything out for me concerning my visa and other documents. I gained a work visa that allowed me to work for at most three years, and then I could apply for permanent residency. I came to New Zealand in February 2023.
However, there are different pathways. There are master’s scholarships and auditors that have now been included in the express pathway to permanent residency. If you know anyone in the audit line that can prove that they’ve been working in the field for at least three years, then they can apply.
Awesome! What would you say were your first experiences in New Zealand?
Because of the job pathway I came in with, settling in wasn’t stressful. My company already had mobile relocation experts that helped me settle regarding accommodation and immigration documents. I’d say the people there are extremely friendly, and the population there is only 5.1 million people, which makes it very small. The food here isn’t really great. I ate something during my first week (I don’t know the name of the meal), and since then, I’ve decided to stick with African dishes.
I can also say that you tend to see some crazy people on the street…
Crazy, how?
Well, I’d say the rate of gays, lesbians, and other people in the queer community is very rampant, like they are so open with their sexuality out there. I guess it shocks me more because I am a Christian. Anything goes here. The amount of people that take drugs here is crazy too. You can’t walk 100 metres without seeing a smoker of weed or other substances here in New Zealand. It’s impossible. Maybe it’s a normal thing out there.
Wow, are there any advantages so far in staying in New Zealand?
They have a structured economy in that even though you have a blue or white-collar job; you can rest assured that you’ll have a good quality of living. You don’t have to do too much to get food to eat, provided you work hard. With my NZ$10, I can feed for two days, more than you can get here in Nigeria. Over here, they pay workers’ wages by the hour, so you can make so much depending on how many hours you work. The value of the New Zealand Dollar is much better than Nigeria. Commodities seem readily available. The people I interact with, too, are amazing, as they have so much exposure.
What are the disadvantages?
In terms of raising kids, you don’t have so much control. You could be jailed in minutes if you spank your kids or chastise them in the smallest way. The kids here also seem to talk to their parents and act wayward. There seems to be a lack of a moral compass in that sense.
I would say my bills, too, are kind of high, but only because of the location I’m in. You pay rent weekly in New Zealand and can get a place for as low as NZ$300, like N120-150k in Nigeria. That isn’t bad at all. To live in nicer apartments, you must start paying NZ$700, equivalent to N400k in Nigeria.
With these disadvantages, do you see yourself settling permanently in New Zealand?
Well, New Zealand is not a bad place. It’s a very good place to start, but I’m not sure I want to settle down permanently in the long term. Maybe Australia or Canada perhaps. New Zealand can be very boring at times, and they also love travelling. Whenever public holidays come, the city is deserted because everyone has travelled to their villages for the holidays. It’s a great place to be, but one needs to manage the environment.
Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
The subjects of this week’s Love Life are Mary* (33) and Linda* (29), who’ve been together for two years and ten months. They talk about a failed party that led to exchanging numbers, meeting because of Christmas chicken, a complicated former relationship and dealing with various insecurities.
How did you meet?
Mary: We met at an LGBTQ+ WhatsApp group.
Linda: The group was supposed to host a hangout party and she was appointed to head the Port Harcourt branch. The hangout ended up not happening, but I’d saved her number the moment she texted me.
Mary: We became status viewers and occasional texters. I was in a complicated relationship at the time, and I needed some new friends so we kept making plans to meet up.
Linda: In my mind, I wanted something more than friendship. When she posted her pictures, I saw how very hot she was, so I wanted to have sex with her, maybe even a relationship, anything more than just being her friend. But whenever she spoke, she always mentioned her girlfriend. I knew she was in a relationship, but I didn’t like that she constantly brought it up. It was such a turn off for me.
Oh, the complicated relationship
Mary: The woman I was dating at the time had cheated on me in 2018. She said she’d let the woman go, but she ended up coming back to tell me she was polyamorous.
I wanted to break up with her, but we lived together, and it was hard to. Mentally, I’d checked out of the relationship, but she didn’t want me to move out, so it was difficult to fall for someone else.
After a while, she told me she wasn’t polyamorous anymore and wanted to be with only me.
Yeah, that’s complicated. You mentioned something about both of you meeting up. When did that happen?
Linda: On December 23, 2019, a couple of months after we started talking, I posted on my status that I wanted to sell a chicken. She was interested in buying, but we kept going back and forth on who would come to see who.
Mary: I couldn’t transfer the payment because, every Christmas time, I withdraw a certain amount of money I’d need for the season ahead. There are always banking and card issues during Christmas season, so I just prefer to use cash. She wanted to send a rider to pick up the chicken, but I didn’t want to give the person cash in case he runs away with my money. I asked her to come deliver it herself because I would be busy at work the next day. She refused and somehow persuaded me to come over.
Linda: After all her shakara, she came o. She was standing by one big tree across the road. I saw her, but still called to make sure she was really the gorgeous stem in black jeans and t-shirt with red and white sneakers.
She picked up, and my heart melted. I just wanted to walk up to her and give her the kiss of her life. I approached her and couldn’t stop staring. It was love at first sight.
Mary: She even forgot to collect her money because she was staring so hard. I had to call her back to reality.
Meanwhile, I was thinking of how much this woman stressed me. I closed late from work, and there was traffic everywhere, but I still had to come over to her place to pick up chicken.
Did you both get a chance to talk?
Mary: I had to rush back home, but she called the moment I got to my street, to ask if I got home safely. That was cute.
Linda: She couldn’t even talk on the phone because she was busy, but then, she promised to call back that night. She never did.
Mary: I texted her the next day to explain that I’d dozed off. I asked her out on a date to make up for it. I was still technically dating my ex girlfriend at the time, but I was no longer feeling the relationship. I’d checked out since the cheating incident; I just didn’t leave.
Linda: We agreed to watch a movie on the 26th. I can never forget that date.
Mary: The cinema was overpopulated, so we went to the karaoke lounge instead.
Linda: We talked, and she told me everything about her relationship with her ex. I told her about mine, and then, she sang for me. She was so hot, I had to run to the restroom to cool down.
Mary: I followed her to the restroom and tried to kiss her there, but she hesitated. As I was about to leave, she grabbed my head and kissed me.
Linda: It’s not like I didn’t want to initially. I just wasn’t comfortable with the environment, but clearly, she was too hot for me to care.
Mary: On December 28, 2019, I travelled to my village for Christmas. I planned to return to Port Harcourt on the 6th of January, but on the 3rd, she told me to come see her in Umuahia, so I did.
Linda: I didn’t believe she would come, but she did. I planned for us to stay together and just relax, but I had a call to come back to Port Harcourt for work, so we left together that night.
Mary: We went our separate ways, but when I got home, I saw my girlfriend and another woman half naked on our bed.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t bothered. I just apologised for barging in on them and went to wait in the living room till they were done so I could pack some of my things in the room. She tried to explain what was going on, but I wasn’t interested. I didn’t want to hear anything she had to say.
Linda: I remember her texting me about what happened. After I was done with the job, she came to meet me and stayed with me till we went home together.
Mary: At home, I made us food and told her I wanted her to be my girlfriend officially. She said yes.
What about your own girlfriend, Mary?
Mary: After Linda and I started dating, I’d told the girlfriend I’d fallen for someone else and was already in a relationship with her. She was angry, but I didn’t care. I moved my property little by little to the apartment I got.
Linda: When she told me everything, I started coming around to her house to stress the ex.
Mary: I eventually moved out in May, 2020.
Linda: At first, I wasn’t comfortable she was still living with her ex, but the more time I spent with Mary, the more I realised she’s not the kind of person to go back to someone once she’s done.
What’s dating since you both stopped living with your exes?
Mary: Well, we don’t live together, but we spend a lot of time together. It’s just that she nags sometimes and assumes things that never happened.
Linda: Sometimes, she acts like she wants to cheat. She hides her phone a lot when she starts getting admirers, and she gives them her attention.
Mary: She has my password, but then, I don’t like the idea of her reading my chats each time we get together. I don’t do that to her because I trust her %100, and I wish for that to be reciprocated.
Linda: It’s not like I don’t trust you. It’s just that I feel insecure once in a while. My ex started a whole relationship right under my nose while we were together. When I see signs that seem like it might be happening again, I start doubting.
Mary: It makes me mad, but I understand her. I try my best to assure her I’d never do anything like that to her.
Other than that, being with her is amazing. She gives great advice and is great company.
On a scale of 1-10, how’ll you rate your love life?
Mary: 8. We’re saving up to get married and leave the country. Until then, 8 will do. Linda: 9. My insecurities sometimes get in the way, but it’s a great relationship, and I love her.
We understand how sad it must feel to live your truth outside of bisexual visibility day. Especially when you feel like your identity isn’t valid and you don’t see enough bisexual representation in mainstream media.
That’s why we’ve come up with seven simple ways to feel less invisible as a bisexual person.
Walk anywhere and take whatever you like
I mean, you’re already invisible so do crime. How will they see you to catch? Walk into that store you’ve been eyeing for months and pick whatever you like. In fact, go to an amala joint and just dish whatever you like, eat and don’t pay. You’re basically untouchable at this point.
Walk up to random people and shout, “It’s just a phase.”
I strongly suggest you make use of a megaphone so it’s more effective. Since everybody thinks it’s okay to tell you how to identify, they should be okay hearing it back too. If you like, set a reminder to send this to random group chats daily. Anything to get the message across. They already think you’re bisexual for attention anyway.
Wear the flag everywhere
It’s a beautiful flag, so buy many yards to sew as many clothes as possible. It’ll call attention to you, and maybe you’ll be more visible. It’ll also make Tunde from bumble stop saying stupid shit like, “Wow, I’ve never met a bisexual in my life”, before proceeding to ask for a threesome.
Since everyone’s favourite pastime is to tell you to pick a side, don’t let them know your next move. Choose yourself instead. As a bisexual person, your dating pool is instantly smaller because queer women think you’d cheat, and the men just want threesomes. Spare yourself all that and date yourself. It can’t get more self-love than that.
Watch music videos that were your bisexual awakening
Like everyone else, there must be one or ten music videos that were your queer awakening. Whether it’s all of Beyonce’s music videos or that one song with Hayley Kiyoko and Kehlani, it’s hard to feel invisible when you’re watching things that make you feel seen.
Take a quiz
You know nothing makes you feel better than a good “How bisexual are you quiz”. Maybe you’ll finally figure it out, or probably not. Because your attraction to both genders might not be equal, and that’s okay.
Watch your favourite shows
I know you watch it for the plot and amazing OST, and not for the two very different characters you have a crush on. When you feel the most invisible, you can always find comfort in romanticising a life where you’re married to both your celebrity crushes.
For my people that love good boy love content, if you’ve been in need of recommendations. Sit tight because these six dramas will change your life and have you screaming, God, when!
KinnPorsche (Thai)
If you still haven’t seen KinnPorsche by now, what do you have against enjoyment? How much more convincing do you need? It’s a story about Kinn, a guy from a mafia family, who meets Porsche, a bartender, while fleeing for his life. Kinn asks Porsche to help him. Porsche being a smart guy decides to help him but for a price and I stan. This drama is packed with suspense, romance and a bit of violence, so viewers’ discretion, please. Also, maybe don’t watch this one with your parents, e get why.
Cutie Pie is a twelve-episode short rom-com that follows the life of Kuea Keerati, a university student engaged to Lian Kilen Wang, a CEO. Someone say God when, please. Kuea loves Lian but trusts a rich man like Lian to prioritise his work over his relationship. As someone who is very anti-love, this made me feel very mushy, just so you know what to expect.
Semantic Error (Korean)
Who doesn’t love a perfect love story between the shy, quiet nerd and the outgoing, overly friendly himbo? Chu Sang Woo is a talented computer science student. He managed to keep to himself until he got put in a group project with Jang Hae Young. This drama made me want to scream because why were they so cute?
Oh! Boarding House (Korean)
If you’re single and you watch this drama, just prepare to be jealous. Seol Won’s mother runs a low-cost boarding house. Since he’s out of work and she needs to go to her hometown, she entrusts the boarding house to Seol Won, which is how he meets Kim Cheol Soo, a teacher and his love interest. You know it’s a good drama when they find love in unconventional places.
Love Class (Korean)
Love Class is a sweet drama about finding love and community. Cha Ji Woo is a university student in love with a classmate Bae Yu Na. Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same way. One day a course demands that people pair up as “couples” to complete a project about love and Ji Woo finds himself paired with Lee Ro Ah, a guy. Like every good project partners to romantic partner trope, this will leave you feeling good for a long time.
First Love, Again (Korean)
First Love, Again is the type of boy love drama you’d watch when you’re in a drama slump. It has just six episodes, and unlike the rest of them on this list, it’s a fantasy drama. This drama follows the life of Yeon Seok, who was in love with Jeong Ha in his past life, except in this life, she reincarnated as a man.
You’re probably wondering what flagging is and why it’s important to queer people? First off, it’s important to acknowledge that flagging has been a big subculture for as long as queer people have existed. It’s a subtly way of saying, “I’m queer and I’m here.”
For people like us who live in a country where it’s not so safe to be queer out loud and we get prosecuted for it due to the SAME SEX MARRIAGE (PROHIBITION) ACT (SSMPA) bill, it doesn’t take away the need to live as boldly as you can in public. Hence the need to flag. Queer flagging here means wearing, owing using terms, clothing, etc as a way of hinting to other another queer people that you too are queer.
I spoke to these four queer Nigerians, and here’s what they had to say about flagging and why it’s important to them.
Milan, she/her
Queer flagging, to me, is showing other community members you’re one of them. The subtle hints allow other queer people to recognise you outside. It’s important for me to queer flag because I’m a femme woman meaning that I’m not someone people stereotypically ascribe queerness to. People see me and assume I’m for the man dem, but I’m for the girls and the gays. I want to be noticed by other queer women. I am tired of men moving to me, thinking I like them. I’m a lesbian. We live in a homophobic country, and you can’t just walk up to someone of your gender and tell them you like them like that.
You have to watch out for signs, maybe looks or a particular attitude or behaviour. I like to be approached, talked to and taken seriously, so I flag because I don’t fit into the queer stereotype. To be honest, I don’t like queer flagging because it feels like a performance, but I understand its importance, even though I wish I didn’t have to. It feels like I’m performing sexuality and not staying true to myself, but it needs to be done.
Of course, there’s no one way to look queer, but when I was still a baby gay, no one could tell I was queer even when I went to queer parties. Now that I’m a typical example of what a queer masc person looks like, people now get me.
I imagine it must be difficult for femme queer women. The problem is that even back then, I was a bit of a tomboy — and being tomboy doesn’t necessarily mean queer — but as soon as I cut my hair, everyone and their daddies started to call me “gay” outside. The upside to flagging is that your tribe will easily find you, but it will also attract homophobes. I will never stop, though. It’s the only way I can affirm my queerness in public when I feel the need to hide.
Theo, she/they
Queer flagging for me is how I present myself when I’m outside in a bid not to look cishet passing because I’m non-binary. I mostly never “look queer”. I envy people who can, though. I feel like I can just walk up to someone with aqueer aesthetic and talk to them, but I don’t “look it”, so they wouldn’t know how to react to me in that “I see you” way.
It sucks sometimes but it’s still important to me that queer people flag because it makes me feel like I’m not alone when I step out of my house. I live for that smile across the street when I see a queer person outside. It’s such a mood booster. You see someone living their best queer life and it makes you feel like you can do it too because this person is living so proudly. Like yass, that’s the agenda.
Ink, he/ they
Its important becausethose who know will recognise the way you flag. Queer flagging is important because it helps you find community. It’s not safe for people to just announce they’re queer in this hell of a country, but queer flagging will let you know who’s queer or, at the very least, who won’t mind being regarded as queer. When you understand how other people are flagging and they know you understand, it’s like an instant connection. You let down your guard around each other. I feel like I’m the only queer person around me sometimes, but going out and catching the eye of someone who’s also queer, sharing a smile or a nod? That thing can make my day.
*Names have been changed to protect subjects’ identity, and answers slightly edited for clarity.
Folu* is a 35 year-old gay Nigerian man living in Atlanta, Georgia. Before leaving Nigeria, he didn’t have or feel like he needed a gay community of friends. But everything changed when he finally moved to a country where he didn’t have to hide behind machismo.
Have you ever heard of straight-passing? It’s the queer version of how biracial people like Mariah Carey can often pass for white, but for sexuality, it’s a queer person passing as straight. Even though straight-passing is a controversial subject, it’s something I’ve always done, consciously and unconsciously.
I’d always known I was gay for as long as I could remember. There wasn’t any significant moment of realisation; my queerness just came with my consciousness as a human being. But the thing is, I didn’t tick any of the stereotypical boxes gay men were supposed to tick. I didn’t care about fashion, pop music or Drag Race. I was a “guy’s guy” who liked football and beer. The only thing that differentiated me from the next guy was that I might be attracted to that guy.
Because of my ability to easily assimilate into the straight community, I never suffered any form of bullying or discrimination. All my friends were straight except one — another straight-passing guy. I’d always assumed it was an unconscious choice, but the older I got, the more I had to confront the truth that part of my blending in was a defence mechanism. If I looked and sounded “straight”, no one would suspect anything, and I’d be safe.
But all of that changed when I relocated from Lagos to Atlanta in 2021.
When I started applying for jobs in Atlanta, I honestly didn’t think I’d get one. In a post-lockdown world where people were losing their jobs everywhere, here I was on a plane to take up a job that would’ve easily been given to an American.
I left Nigeria, never knowing what it felt like to have openly gay friends. All the other gay men I knew were men I’d met on hookup apps and had sex with. And because of my internalised homophobia and the fear of being outed, I’d confined our relationships to just sex. I didn’t really have a gay male friend until I met my co-worker, Nathan*
Like me, Nathan was Nigerian, but he’d moved to Atlanta right after secondary school for university. He was nothing like I’d ever experienced, and till today, I still like to say he forced our friendship. Because he’d moved to America earlier, Nathan had a surer sense of self and sexuality. He’d experienced loved loudly, chopped breakfast, gone back to the streets and expressed himself freely as a gay man. I avoided him at first because I didn’t want to be the new gay guy from Nigeria, but he saw through my bullshit and persisted.
Even though I knew I was finally in a country where I didn’t have to pretend, I was still very discreet. I kept all my interactions with queer men to just sex. And oh boy, I was having a lot of it. However, when the novelty of meeting new men every two days started to wear off, I started to feel lonely, and that’s when Nathan and I became friends. He was the first Nigerian I got close to and the only person who understood the loneliness I was feeling at the time. I eventually warmed up to having my first openly gay friend.
The first time I admitted to being gay in Atlanta was while filling out a hospital form. After the “Male”, “Female, and “Others” part of the form, there was a box for “Sexual Orientation”. Coming from Nigeria, this was new to me. After much thought, I ticked the “Gay” part. That moment turned out to be a major turning point for me.
The final part of my acceptance happened when Nathan dragged me to the 2021 pride ceremony in Atlanta. I’d heard about pride when I was in Nigeria, and I also remember when young Nigerians were calling for one. I distinctly remember reading an article by Vincent Desmond and wondering why we needed pride in Nigeria, knowing we weren’t even safe in the first place. I thought it was the new generation of gays being extra and overly influenced by Western media.
Before getting to America, I used to think of pride as a massive petri dish of gay men and women looking to hook up. And while that can be true, in Atlanta, I also noticed something more: community. Thanks to Nathan, I ended up talking to many people, and everyone there had a story to tell. Some struggled with self acceptance, some had accepted themselves but struggled with a lack of acceptance from their friends and family while others just came out with a “fuck the world” attitude.
Despite the diverse skin tones and experiences, we were all connected, not just by our pain but by our joy. Pride was a celebration I didn’t know I needed until I was smack in the middle of it.
The emotions during the pride march got so overwhelming that I found myself crying. The tears were for many things: for the time I’d lost building relationships where I was scared to be myself; for the fact that this glorious thing I was experiencing was something many Nigerian queer men needed but lacked access to; andbecause I recognised how lucky I was to be in a space where I could love and be loved without fear.
Even though I’d made plans to go back home with someone and have lots of sex, I left that march with something more. For the first time, I not only realised who I was, but I also accepted it. I’ll never tick the stereotypical boxes of being gay, and that’s alright. While I’m still the football-loving, super macho gym bro, I’m also gay AF and not afraid to show it anymore. It took leaving Nigeria for me to finally accept who I really am.
*Name has been changed to protect the identity of the subject involved.
A while back, I wrote about the realities of the lesbian dating experience and realised I had to do one for people in gay relationships too. For this, I spoke to several people in the gay community, and here’s what they shared with me about the reality of gay relationships.
You’ll enjoy each other’s shows
Expectations: You’ll love each other’s shows and be willing to wait for the other person when new episodes come out.
Reality: One of you will spend the entire relationship begging the other to watch your shows. And one person will always be ahead of the other on the one you end up watching together. Life’s tough, but love is tougher.
After the talking stage, a relationship is expected
Expectation: After spending that much time talking and getting to know each other’s childhood fears, the logical thing is a relationship.
Reality: Unfortunately, most times, all that happens is sex. Which, in all fairness, is not such a bad deal. But when you want more than sex, it’s hard not to keep getting disappointed by people with commitment issues. Hooking up is easy, but getting into a relationship is complicated.
Everyone you meet is new, so it’s a unique experience
Expectation: If you meet someone outside of your friends for the first time, and no one knows him, it’s refreshing, and you’ll end up in less messy situations.
Reality: The dating pool is too small for the people you meet not to be your ex’s ex. If you meet someone no one knows, you should be careful, so you don’t get a Kito experience you’ll regret.
Clubbing or attending parties will be much better with your partner
Expectation: Parties and clubs become 10x more fun when you go with your partner; what’s better than an experience you’ll share memories of instead of having to tell them about it?
Reality: That’s how they’ll find your replacement in your presence. Also, one person will have less fun because they’d be too busy trying to keep the other safe.
Sex will become slow-paced
Expectation: Sex is great and all, but after a while, it won’t happen as often, and you’ll find other things to do together.
Reality: While this might seem like a threat, it actually never gets slow-paced. And if it does, y’all are about to break up. Why do you even want it to be slow-paced? Do you not like enjoyment?
Noncommitment can be fixed by making the relationship open
Expectation: If you guys are struggling to stay committed to one another because of years spent on the streets, opening the relationship will fix it.
Reality: Except one or both of you are polyamorous, there’s no way opening a relationship can solve cheating or your partner’s inability to commit. Some situations are considered cheating in open relationships too. So it’s better to talk things out and make rules even.
After you get heartbroken, this will be you.
They’d drop their standards for you
Expectations: It doesn’t matter what they usually like in a relationship, they’d drop it all for you. If he’s a bottom who’s never dated a bottom, he’ll change his mind because he likes you.
Reality: He probably won’t. He’d drop those standards enough to have sex if he’s desperate, but not for a relationship. If, as a bottom, he thinks he can’t date a bottom, or as a masc guy, femme guys are too much for him, first, that’s a red flag, and you should run. Secondly, his opinion won’t miraculously change without you getting hate crimed first for a while.
As a queer person, there’s no better pick me up than watching hours of queer shows during the weekend to make you feel better. The series on this list has some of the best reps and some of the most unforgettable characters. Not every time “we outside”, sometimes stay in and enjoy these seven underrated queer series; it’ll only take you two days anyway.
Our Flag Means Death
My new favourite TV thing is when writers rewrite history. Black British royalty, Ariana Grande’s music in the 1800s, and Our Flag Means Death did not shy away. This show is a ten-episodes-too-short romantic comedy that follows the life of Captain Stede and his almost entirely queer crew. You get to enjoy a rarely seen fun yet tender relationship between two men where they end up together. Our Flag Means Death feels almost revolutionary with how effortlessly all the queer characters are portrayed, and that’s why it’s a 10/10.
If you had to pick one show on this list to watch, let it be Trigonometry. Gemma and Kieran are a couple who needed money to sort bills, so they rented their spare room out to Ray. It’s all good until they both fall in love with her and she with them. This show explores polyamory with no form of judgement, and it’s funny, clumsy, authentic, and well-rounded characters. BBC did a madness with this series, and if I had to rate it, I’d give it an 11/10.
Dickinson
Again with the trope of rewriting history, you can’t even complain about it. Dickinson is a historical comedy-drama based on Emily Dickinson, the famous poet who’s in love with her best friend/sister-in-law Sue. You can’t watch Emily talk about her poetry and not fall in love with her passionate personality. You might not finish this one in one weekend, but it’s too good to not be on this list.
Dead End: Paranormal Park
Dead End: Paranormal Park is about a trans boy and his friends working at a haunted theme park full of the most foolish demons. It’s a sweet coming-of-age trans story about a boy dealing with a family who doesn’t support him but finds friends who love him for who he is and romantic love. The show might have taken fighting demons literally, but I love it and why you will too.
Feel Good
Feel Good is like a long stand-up comedy, except sometimes you’re not laughing, sometimes you’re triggered, and sometimes you’re sad. Mae and Geroge might not be in a complicated relationship, but their individual lives complicate things for them. This series shows that sometimes queer relationships aren’t sweet and overly romanticised. The most significant turning point is Mae and Geroge learning to hold space for each other during all that, which makes Feel Good at least a 9/10 for me.
Heartstopper
There’s no love story as soft as Heartstopper, and I love that younger queer kids get to experience this. What happens when the school jock falls in love with the openly gay boy? Well, that’s Charlie and Nick’s awkward but beautiful schoolboy romance. The best thing about this series is exploring the queer joy and accepting one’s authentic self. While not avoiding homophobia and bullying, it doesn’t dwell on it either. Beware, his show will have you giggling like a 15-year-old.
First Kill
First Kill hits the spot for people like me who love to read the cheesiest, low-key senseless lesbian paranormal books. This movie is Shakespeare meets Twilight and is written around Juliette and Calliope’s complicated love story of a vampire falling in love with a vampire hunter. It has all the tropes that make the series predictable, but that’s the appeal. Don’t go in expecting to have deep thoughts; it’ll end in tears. But, be ready to laugh, cry, and stan because you know it’s good when something is so bad, it’s good? That’s First Kill.
June is the month when the Queer community gets to celebrate the joy of their existence worldwide. From marches to pride parades, balls, e.t.c, it’s a celebration of the lives of people existing loudly and proudly as their most authentic selves. We spoke to these five Nigerians about what celebrating pride month in Nigeria meant to them.
Lu (they/them)
I think of pride month as independence day for LGBTQ+ people. They’re free to express themselves, marry, and live a life free from danger. But since it doesn’t apply to me here in Nigeria, I decided to look at it as me celebrating coming to terms with my sexual orientation and gender identity. I struggled with it, so pride month is my independence.
I celebrated by watching LGBTQ+ series, mostly animated, because they’re more authentic. Most non-animated series/movies gave off “let’s just add LGBTQ+ characters so it won’t look like we’re bigots” and the characters barely have personalities outside their identity.
I wish I’d gone to the parties and events people hosted and attended a pride parade or drag show. But I’m an introvert and still live with my mom.
To me, Pride is a celebration. It’s happiness despite everything happening — holding onto your community, checking up on each other. Having a month means something about me, my identity and my community. It makes me so happy.
I celebrated by publishing queer love letters throughout the month. Every one of those letters brought me immense joy. I had a pride picnic with queer people in my school, which was the highlight of my entire month. I also read queer books at home.
I would have loved to attend the queer parties and events, but I can’t come out at night, as I live with my parents. I’m bitter about that and blame this useless government for not ending the strike so I could celebrate pride properly with my friends. If everything had gone to plan, I might have attended several pride parties this year, gotten a new partner, and enjoyed my life.
Muna (they/she)
Pride month for me is just a time to hang out with my queer friends and family. It’s very wholesome, I feel seen, and I don’t have to pretend I’m heterosexual. I don’t get to be in spaces like this often, so it’s always amazing. I celebrated Pride Month by going to random queer spaces looking like my gayest self — places that make me happy, and I didn’t have to bond over trauma.
Clover (she/her)
Pride Month celebrates how far we’ve come as a community. Even though I can’t openly celebrate because of the homophobia, I post about queer history and culture worldwide on my Whatsapp status. If I could, I’d march the streets wearing all kinds of rainbow merch. One day, one day.
Fidel (he/him)
For me, pride month is the one time in my life when I find myself rid of fear. There’s something about seeing myself among queer people happy and celebrating that makes me feel like life is worth something.
I spent this month attending as many events as possible, sitting with my chosen family, watching movies and documentaries, and having dinner. I used to think I hated going out, but I don’t. I just needed to be in the presence of people to whom I didn’t have to explain myself.
I know we’re not where many countries are regarding the rights of LGBTQ+ people, but seeing people in other countries celebrate gives me hope that one day that could be us.
There are many animated TV shows with LGBTQ representation these days. But these seven shows make a bold statement. They explicitly say, “This character is gay and you’ll be fine”. They get it right in LGBTQ representation. Here’s why:
The Owl House
The Owl House gave us Disney’s first openly bisexual character, Luz, who dated a girl after finding herself in a world full of magic. Even though the series was cancelled after three seasons, it did well with LGBTQ representation with characters like Rain, an older nonbinary character. The Owl House also had a great storyline and a fun animation style, so we were sad to see it end soon. It had a short ride, but this series gets a 10 because there’s no character as cute as King, and it’s a fan favourite.
Steven Universe is great, but many things were queer-coded and not as boldly stated as shows today. Still, we can’t talk about LGBTQ reps in shows without giving them credit for the part they played normalising sapphics kissing and getting married. The show gave us the first animated lesbian marriage, a nonbinary intersex character Stevonnie and arguably the most nontoxic masculine main character in TV history. For its part in paving the way for more queer shows, Steven Universe gets a 9/10 because it’s just that bitch, and we will never get over it.
Dead End: Paranormal Park
From the start, this show said, “I’m going to give you a queer character and you will love him like you’ve known him forever.” The series is barely six days old but is already a fave because it stars a trans character that is relatable. Not only is he trans, but his love interest is also a man. Who else is doing it like them, show of hands?
They’ve given us binder struggles, funny-as-hell demons, and one of the show’s most badass villains is voiced by Mj Rodriguez from Pose.
Lesbians, bisexuals, nonbinary/trans folk and gay couples. This show had us well fed. There was no coming out, no homophobia. It was all treated as naturally as it should be. I’m Jealous but also so happy for the younger queer audience that gets to experience this. The show was the wildest, most complicated lesbian love story I’ve ever seen, and the best part was that it had a happy ending. She-Ra was amazing but I rate it 7/10 for making their nonbinary character a lizard.
Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts
The only thing better than a show that teaches kids about the power of love and friendship is a show that isn’t afraid to use the word “gay”. This show gave us the softest men-loving men (MLM) relationship with Troy and Benson. My favourite part was that even in the face of an apocalyptic world full of talking animals, queerness was normalised. This show is vibrant, from the soundtrack to the animation style and colour, so it gets a solid 8/10.
The Legend of Korra
Korra gave us bisexual representation, and that is why it’s on this goated list. Korra is the sequel to Avatar, the Last Airbender that we didn’t know we needed, and anyone that hates it is just bad vibes. What’s not to love about a badass avatar that goes through so much and becomes stronger each time. And then her love story? Korrasami walked so every other queer ship could run. For that, it gets a 9/10 for us.
Craig of the Creek
First of all, Craig of the Creek is an animated show focused on a black kid with several black characters just doing child-like things like exploring the creek in their hometown and making fun memories with their active imagination. Most importantly, the show gave us a range of recurring LGBTQ+ characters. This includes a sapphic couple, a nonbinary character voiced by a nonbinary actor and one of the main characters who’s a lesbian. It’s raining 10s, people.
It’s still pride month, and we’re queering it up one day at a time. We’ve given you a playlist of the best bops to get down to this season. Now, let’s move on to the best African queer documentaries. From underground ballroom culture to the dangerous intersection between religion and homophobia, these documentaries present a wide range of queer history and current struggles.
The Legend of the Underground
The American TV show, Pose, introduced the general public to New York’s underground ballroom scene when it premiered in 2017. But what if we told you that Nigeria had a ballroom scene just as resilient and beautiful? The Legend of the Underground is a documentary that explores different characters from Nigeria’s colourful ballroom scene. Shedding light on the complicated lives of members of Nigeria’s LGBTQ+ community both at home and abroad, it’s a must-watch that is both celebratory and eye-opening at the same time.
Born This Way
No, this is not a Lady Gaga project. The two characters this documentary follows are super obsessed with Lady Gaga and Rihanna, though (We stan taste in this house.) Set in Cameroon, Born This Way looks at the inspiring queer community in the country against the backdrop of a law that punishes homosexual relations with up to five years in prison.
God Loves Uganda
History has shown us time and time again that queer people existed in Africa long before the arrival of colonisers. And while “modern” religion brought a considerable amount of progress (Shoutout to the good sis, Mary Slessor), it also brought a large amount of homophobia.
God Loves Uganda is a 2013 documentary examining how American evangelicals are encouraging homophobia in Uganda after failing in America with the passage of the Same-Sex Marriage act. The documentary takes a deep dive into the intersection between race, religion and homophobia in Uganda.
I Am Samuel
This Kenyan documentary about the life of a gay man navigating life in a conservative country was banned because it was seen as an attack on the country’s culture and identity. Sis, what? Anyway,I Am Samuellooks at the life of the eponymous character, Samuel, and his partner, Alex. Shot over five years, it explores Samuel’s relationship with religion, his family, and the queer community in Nairobi, Kenya.
It’s almost an hour long, but trust us, it’ll be an hour well spent.
The Pearl of Africa
Ugandans are steady with the queer content, and I live! The Pearl of Africa tells the story of Ugandan transgender activist, Cleopatra Kambugu, and her fight for the fundamental right to live and love alongside her husband, Nelson. It shows the battle one woman has to face just to be accepted as a human being and loved in a country that fails to acknowledge her existence. This documentary will surely have you in your feels, so be ready to sob a little and be inspired like crazy.
Stories of Our Lives
This Kenyan project is more of a collection of short films than a documentary. Created by filmmaker Jim Chuchu, Stories of Our Livesshows queer life in Kenya through a series of five black-and-white short stories. Covering a broad spectrum of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and intersex, the film, banned in Kenya, tells a collective story of people who have been relegated to the back of the line. It doesn’t give a voice; instead, it amplifies voices that the noise of bigotry have drowned out. An incredible project everyone should see even beyond this period.
Paris is Burning
While this documentary isn’t African, it’s an undeniable queer classic and an essential documentary. Paris is Burning is THAT girl. It follows the lives of drag queens living in New York City and the house-ballroom culture that provided them with chosen families and safe havens.
Sex Lifeis an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.
The subject of this week’s Sex Life is a 27-year-old lesbian who describes herself as a pleaser. She talks to us about discovering her sexuality, sleeping with many women to make up for what she’s missed, how kissing has never felt right and learning she has better sex when she’s not being touched.
Tell me about your first sexual experience
I was 14 years old when I kissed a boy for the first time. He attended my church, and during the children’s vigil, we snuck into the bathroom and kissed. I didn’t know what to expect, but the kiss felt wet. It wasn’t magical or special. It just felt like someone’s mouth touched my own. On the other hand, he was smiling from ear to ear. I went along with it, but everything about it felt so wrong.
I thought it was because I didn’t know how kissing worked, so I kept kissing different boys. Every single time, I was met with disappointment. I knew it couldn’t have been them. There’s no single way every boy I kissed from when I was 14 till when I was 19 was terrible. I knew it was a me thing. I just didn’t know how.
What happened at 19?
That’s when I switched it up and kissed a woman for the first time. That day, I had gone out with a guy and had another disappointing kiss, so I was complaining to my roommate. I told her how this is something that’s been happening since I was 14 and that maybe I just couldn’t kiss right. She told me that maybe I needed to learn how to kiss properly. Then, she offered to teach me. I agreed and she kissed me.
The thing with kissing her is it, sure, it was a mouth touching mine and it was still wet, but the kiss felt different. I always knew my roommate was attractive; kissing her made me very aware of just how attractive she was.
When she pulled away, she told me I was probably overthinking it because I’m an amazing kisser. I’d like to think that kiss was what began my descent into discovering I was a lesbian. It’s just that it was a slow process.
Well, lesbianism isn’t something a lot of people talk about. I hear more about being a gay man than being a lesbian. Whenever women act in anaffectionate way towards each other, it’s always written off as women being women. But if a man so much as smiles at another man, the word “gay” is thrown around a lot. It’s not like I didn’t know lesbianism existed. It’s just that when I was considering my options, it didn’t come to mind. Add the fact that I dress very feminine, nobody was moving to me or throwing the L word around me. Very distressing times.
That’s why I didn’t try to kiss a woman again until two years after I kissed the first one. And just like the first time, it was a friend who wanted to help me out. After I narrated my problem to a friend of mine, she told me maybe I was going about it all wrong and promised to introduce me to someone who might help. Turns out the someone was a woman she knew. I was confused at first, but my friend explained that maybe I was just kissing the wrong gender. I remembered the kiss my former roommate and I shared and decided to see this through. The woman and I talked a lot that night. When she asked me to come back to her place, I agreed without a second thought. I had sex that night for the first time, and I am so glad I didn’t do it with a man.
How was it?
Well, I didn’t know anything I was doing because I had never gone past kissing men and giving them handjobs. But she was so patient with me, kind too. She asked me questions throughout. When there was blood and I panicked a bit, she just removed the sheets and gave me a bath. It was the softest experience I had ever had. I enjoyed every minute of it. Maybe that’s why I didn’t want to leave her house.
Before, I thought I was a prude who wouldn’t enjoy sex, but something woke up in me that day. I was unstoppable. I wanted her to teach me everything she knew and she was more than happy to indulge me. I think she found my curiosity sexy. When I was leaving her house after living there for a couple of days, I made a promise to myself that I’d never go back to doing anything sexual with men. That was also the day I called myself a lesbian for the first time.
Yes! The only problem was there was a bit of involuntary celibacy on my part. It was difficult to find women to talk to without putting yourself in danger. The woman I had sex with for the first time left Nigeria soon after. Turns out she only visited occasionally, and I was back in square one.
So, I started befriending the extremely “masculine” women who people actually threw the L word at. I was determined to fix my involuntary celibacy.
Did you?
Tough times never last, only tough people do! And I am a tough babe. I knew I had a lot to learn and by befriending these women, I learnt it and found community at the same time. With every new woman I slept with, it felt like I discovered something new about myself. At 23, I learnt I loved performing oral sex. That same year, I let someone use a strap-on with me for the first time, and I used one with someone else too.
I think after discovering I was a lesbian, I tried to fit everything I had missed into a couple of years of sleeping with different women. Once a partner wanted to try something, I was down with it. But after two years of sleeping with everyone and their mums, I found something I liked and stuck to it.
Tell me about it
I linked up with a woman all my friends told me not to because she was a “pillow princess”. Apparently, she did none of the work and just wanted to be fucked until she couldn’t walk. I was curious. I had never actually met one of those before. I wanted to see what it was like.
When we linked up, she refused to touch me. I felt like I had to earn her approval and it was very sexy. Every single time she had an orgasm, I got more turned on, and I didn’t stop until she couldn’t move. When she finally kissed me and touched my breasts, I had my only orgasm of the day. But it didn’t feel like it was just one because it was so strong I had to take a breather.
When she got into a relationship, I started looking for women who could reciprocate that exact feeling with me, Before we’d have sex, I’d tell them not to touch me until they felt I had earned it. I found myself gravitating towards “pillow princesses”. A lot of them think I’m bluffing because they’re not used to feminine women who enjoy pleasing, but it makes it even more fun for me.
It’s not like I don’t like being touched. I’d just rather not be. Knowing my partner’s having a great time is really all I need. If they tell me I didn’t earn their touch, I would go home and masturbated.
Rate your sex life on a scale of 1-10
9. I wish I had figured it all out earlier. But now, I’ve done all my exploring and my girlfriend and I are having really great sex. She understands my need to not be touched, and it works perfectly for her.
Welcome to Jibiti month! As you all know, June has been set aside as a month to celebrate the LGBTQ+ community in its fullness and beauty. And while the community doesn’t get to celebrate in Nigeria like other countries, many queer Nigerians are celebrating in their own little way — through music and dance. To celebrate pride month, we took a peek into their playlists for the best songs to vibe to this season. Here’s our official Pride 2022 playlist. Get into it, yuh!
1. Get into the Mila Jam’s inclusive It’s Raining Them
— Izzie
This song reminds me that I’m queer, I’m here, and I’m going to shine no matter what.
2. Rina Sawayama’s Chosen Family reminds me of the bond we share as a community.
— E.B
When people think of pride songs, they think of pop and upbeat songs. For me, it’s the opposite. I think Rina Sawayama’s Chosen Family is an important song. The lyrics highlight the shared pain and joy of queer people all over the world, and how we’re able to create a bond to form new familes and communities.
3. If the gays ever form our country, Todrick Hall’s Parade should be our national anthem
— Moses
Todrick Hall’s Parade intensifies my homosexuality, making me feel proud and causing me to vogue. The voices of the black choir that sings the chorus with Todrick give my knees the strength to successfully pull off a ballroom routine worthy of 10s across the board. Anytime they open their mouths, I do a death drop that I’m pretty sure would make RuPaul die of excitement. That song is magic.
4. Every ABBA song is queer AF!
— Nini
The only aunt I was out to — she’s late now — was obsessed with ABBA and would play their songs non-stop when I was little. I became obsessed. Plus, I think Mamma Mia is the gayest movie ever made. I can’t count how many times I’ve cried about a partner travelling abroad to I Have a Dream or how many times I’ve been sad about my reality as a queer person in Nigeria, crying and dancing along to Dancing Queen. They’re my comfort band and songs, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
5. Wo Fie by Sister Deborah and Angel Maxine is the most iconic African queer anthem. Period!
— Ehi
The first time I heard Wo Fie, I thought it was a parody or joke of some sorts. It’s funny, but in a way that makes homophobic people realise how ridiculous their bias is. The video is also hilarious AF, and it feels empowering to see an African trans woman like Angel Maxine kill it on screen. Inject it inna mi veins!
6. Lady Donli’s MKK makes me feel like I can snag bad bitches
— Toke
Lady Donli’s MKK speaks to my soul and spirit and just screams “gay”. It makes me feel like I have, and can get many babes in real life, which is not true, but we move. I listen to it to feel good.
7. I can’t really dance, but Azealia Banks’ 212 makes me move every time.
— Joel
Truth is, 212 is a senseless oontz oontz club song made for the gays. It doesn’t have any meaning, but whenever life is doing me somehow and I just want to feel good, I put on this song and dance with the skills I don’t have. Don’t tell anyone, but I have the perfect mob dance break in my head to the bridge of this song, and hopefully I get to do it someday.
8. I want that feeling Kehlani is singing about on Melt.
— Elizabeth
Listening to Melt, you can tell that Kehlani feels safe with her partner. I love how she uses the lyrics of this song to describe that feeling, and to be honest, who doesn’t want to feel safe with the person that they love?
9. There’s something unapologetically gay about Todrick Hall’s I Like Boys.
— Seun
I Like Boys is an upbeat song that is guaranteed to make me dance. Singing the lyrics makes me feel like I’m letting everyone know that yes, I’m gay, and it’s time for them to revel in the fabulousness that is this pride and joy.
10. Want to feel like a bad bitch? Listen to Doja Cat’s Boss Bitch
— Ikenna
As soon as Boss Bitch starts, I want to strut in heels and tell everyone to clear road because a bad bitch is coming through. Perod!
11. Niniola doesn’t know it yet, but Bana has made her a gay icon
— Derrick
Something about the groove and beat of Bana is incredibly gay. You have no choice but to body roll and drop to the floor as soon as the beat drops. This will always be a bop that makes me feel good.
12. Flava by Lady Donli is a certified lesbian bop!
— Mariam
Lady Donli’s Flava sounds so lesbian with all the soft voices and sweetness. I love it!
For most queer people, growing up in Nigeria is the ghetto. But sometimes, you encounter some ridiculous situations that leave you laughing. Here are ten memes you can relate to as a queer Nigerian.
1. The “Keep It together” meme
That weird random moment when your family members are bad-mouthing queer people around you, and you’re fighting the urge to scream, “It’s me, I’m queer people!”
We might not be winning at many things, but for those of us who refuse to or can’t pay rent, being able to have your partner in your parent’s house is a blessing.
8. The “ Na beg I dey beg you”
You love all your queer friends, but some can never come to your house because your parents will immediately clock them.
Sometimes you want to laugh at funny queer memes, but it’s so far removed from your reality. For instance, if you liked folding the arm of your t-shirt as a Nigerian child, the t-shirt probably wasn’t your size. But outside, it’s a lesbian thing.
10. The “For here?” meme
When pride month begins, and the abroad queers start making jokes about how corporations change their logos, all you can do is laugh because honestly, for here?
What does it mean to be a man? Surely, it’s not one thing. It’s a series of little moments that add up. Man Like is a weekly Zikoko series documenting these moments to see how it adds up. It’s a series for men by men, talking about men’s issues. We try to understand what it means to “be a man” from the perspective of the subject of the week.
In 2017, Richard Akuson launched the groundbreaking online magazine, A Nasty Boy, to celebrate queerness in all its beauty and struggles. Over time, the magazine became a beacon of hope to young Nigerians whose identity and overall existence were being trampled on by the country they call home. Listening to Richard recount poignant moments from his childhood, what initially seemed like an obvious reason for starting the platform and stepping into the role of an LGBTQ+ activist takes a clearer shape — just like other members of this community, Richard has had struggles of his own.
In this episode of Man Like, he talks about being labelled queer way before he knew what it meant, overcoming his childhood obsession with being liked, his journey to self-acceptance and why he’s scared of growing old alone.
Let’s throw this thing back a little bit. Was there a time in your childhood when you struggled with the concept of being a man?
Oh, absolutely! I grew up in a small conservative town in the North, called Akwanga, and for as long as I can remember, I struggled a lot with getting people to see me as a cool kid. “Cool”, in this case, meant participating in the “masculine” activities my friends, siblings and other boys around me regularly did. But I wasn’t good at football nor shaking hands the way boys did. I was failing at even the simplest things and it frustrated me, made me feel inadequate. Growing up can be challenging, but it was extra tough for someone like me who walked and talked in a way people didn’t consider boy-like.
Kids are brutal. They made fun of me because I didn’t fit in with the boys, and even when I started gravitating towards girls, it became a thing in which they’d ask why I always wanted to be around them. It didn’t help that I had a brother I was always compared to because he was essentially the model of a handsome young man. Next to him, I just paled in comparison. Every day was a struggle for me.
Damn. Do you remember when you realised you weren’t like the boys around you?
The feeling of being different was always this thing that just existed. I was either called boy-girl or “inna-màcè” as a child, with the second one being a combination of the short form of my native name, Innanoshe, and “màcè”, which means “woman” in Hausa. At the time, I just thought it was a harmless nickname, but there’s still a lot I’m unpacking at the ripe age of 29.
However, if I could pinpoint a moment that had the most impact on me, it’d be my interaction with a girl I met when I was about 12 or 13, representing my state in an essay competition in Lagos. I gravitated towards her because I thought she was the most intelligent person I’d ever come across. One day, on a ride back to where those of us competing were all staying, I was talking to her, gesturing a lot, and the next thing she said was, “Oh my God. You’re such a sissy.” Even though I didn’t understand what it meant, I recognised a look I had become used to from people. I recoiled into my seat and tried to check the meaning on my phone. Something in me died the minute I saw what it meant. I felt a profound sense of shame, regret and loss. I also felt angry at myself for behaving in a way that made her recognise that part of me.
Before this, there were times when we had to choose teams for games in school. Every time this happened, I’d either not get picked or end up the last to be selected. If a teacher forced me into a group, I’d see that same disappointing look in the eyes of my classmates, and sometimes, they’d even complain out loud so I could hear them.
I’m so sorry. Did these interactions ever affect the way you expressed yourself?
In a way, yes. I was living in the shadow of my older brother, and I was obsessed with being liked. I remember realising that I was an intelligent talker, so I made it my mission to constantly flex and show people that I was smart, hoping that would make them like me. Also, my brother was shy, so this was something I had that made me special. In a way, I was doing my best to entertain them. I would tell secrets people had shared with me in confidence so that I could score points with new people I was meeting. There’s only so much gist I could share without adding my own jara and getting into trouble. LOL.
True. But where would you say this desire to be liked came from?
I was trying to make up for a lot. I was overcompensating for feeling inadequate and invisible.
Their validation would’ve satiated the very human part of me that wanted to be acknowledged and desired. But when it comes to validation from other people, I’ve come to realise that it only lasts for so long. Over time, it begins to wear off. I’ve had to work hard to find that grounding self-affirmation that’s also self-fulfilling. Without it, no matter what the world says, I’d still have a lot of self-doubt. It’s lovely to get compliments and whatnot, but what’s important to me is that I feel it too, that deep down, I know who I am.
How did you get to this point of self-valuation?
It took a long time. Even after I’d grown up and left Akwanga, I still struggled with placing value on myself. I’d prepare to go out with friends and hope I’d meet some guy who liked me. Even when I did, there were always terms and conditions to our interactions. Let’s just say I took a lot of bullshit at the time because I didn’t think I deserved better.
I’m glad I’m where I am now because I feel like I’ve worked real hard to move past looking to people for validation or to like me in general. I’ve done my best to change the things I felt insecure about that were within my control. Some of this confidence also came with age.
On the physical side, I had struggled with acne for a long time, so when I moved to America about four years ago, I got on Accutane as soon as I had the opportunity, and now, my acne is gone. I got into fitness as well. So basically, I worked to manifest for myself the things I admired about others. Another thing that helped me was journaling. Being able to unpack all the issues I was going through, confront my past and make peace with myself, went a long way in helping me get here.
I love to see it. Talking about relationships, when did you know you liked men?
I’ve known I was gay for as long as I can remember, even when I didn’t know the word for it. I’d already been introduced to all the homophobic tropes within my community, like the names I was called growing up. Before I self-identified as gay, I was already labelled by the people around me.
Shit! At what point did you find the words or understand your sexuality?
I finally understood my sexuality in my second year of university. I’d come across the words “gay” and “homosexual” before then, but it was at that point I gave myself the permission, even if regretfully, to internalise it as a part of my identity. It happened because I became friends with another guy from my university who was gay and had much more lived gay experience than I did. The way he owned his sexuality wowed me. He didn’t associate who he was with a feeling of shame like I did. I think this was crucial in my journey to self-realisation.
What was going through your mind when you finally accepted yourself?
Everything finally made sense. There wasn’t any strangeness or shock. It was just a feeling of accomplishment, peace of mind and lightness.
Talking about your friend, I’d like to know the role friendship and community played in your self-realisation process.
I can’t begin to put a value on the importance of a safe space through all of this. This space could be a person or community, just where you feel accepted and affirmed. I had a lot of that. I was accepted, not tolerated. Even what I have now with my friends, it’s a relationship in which I can show up in the fullness of my queerness and know I’m respected and accepted. These are the things I enjoy now. I wish every queer person had access to these types of affirming friendships.
Preach. So let’s pivot to your life in America. What have you learnt about yourself in the four years you’ve been away?
That I don’t have to tolerate bullshit from anybody. I’ve been able to set clear boundaries without fear of losing friends or being disliked. These days, when I feel disrespected, I speak up and put the person causing the offence on notice. I’m also making myself less available to people who objectify me and fail to see me fully. There was a time when I’d see people who were the centre of attention at nightclubs and wonder what it must feel like to be the object of everybody’s attention and fancy. And let me be the first to tell you, it can be exhilarating but also tiring. You grow tired of people indiscriminately groping and touching you for their own satisfaction. Because I exist doesn’t mean I’m here for people’s enjoyment.
Interesting. So does anything scare you?
Yes! Not living up to my fullest potential and not doing enough with my life. I’m also scared of getting to a point where fear and doubt influence my choices in life. When I was younger, I remember my Aunt Becky telling me she loved how fearless I was. She was like that too, she said, but as she got older, she lost that spirit. The older we get, the more fearful we become, the less daring we get with everything in life. This is true for me. Some days, I imagine I’d make a good actor, but fear kicks in every time I think of taking the first step. I fear failure, rejection, mediocrity and so on. I hope the fear of failure doesn’t become a hindrance for me.
Oh! I’m also afraid of growing old alone. To be clear, this has nothing to do with romantic companionship. I want what my grandmother had. She had children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She had a house full of laughter, chaos, and ultimately, joy. That’s what I want.
Ah. I see. So on the flip side, what gives you joy these days?
I find joy in my friends, family and just all the people I love in my life.
Queer femme women are that subculture of the lesbian identity that always gets overlooked becausee they don’t “look gay” even though there’s no way to look gay. Anyway, if you find yourself in a talking stage with a femme queer woman, just be ready for the best time of your life, but with a sprinkle of heartbreak.
She will cheat and you will beg her to stay
If you don’t want someone to break your heart anyhow, maybe next time, come to the world with a big bum bum so you won’t be looking for it outside. These babes don’t even lie after they cheat on you. They’ll somehow make it your fault, and you’ll still be begging them not to break up. After God, fear femme queer women.
If you think you’re special because she sends you weekly affirmations for your star sign, my dear, you’re not. If she comes into your life and her first question is, “What time were you born?” she wants to check your birth chart to find creative ways to ruin you. You can either run or enjoy the ride.
She’ll never stop talking to her ex
In fact, you’ll soon realise that half of her exes are yours too. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with having a healthy relationship with your ex. It shows that you’re not childish. That’s until y’all break up, and she dates that one ex of hers she told you nothing was going on with and all you can do is cry.
Whatever game you think you’re playing, she’s already won
Just the thought of anyone thinking they can one up a femme queer woman has me screaming. They’ve chopped and served every sort of breakfast known to man so they’re always guiding. Best believe that they’ve anticipated your every move and checkmated you in their heads.
You’re not half as important as her cat
Know this and make your peace with this. After you leave, her cat will still be there. Nevermind that they’re in an abusive, lowkey one-sided relationship, because, cats! Why would she pick you first? Don’t be that loser who tries to fight for her attention when she’s focused on her cat — which is every time.
She’ll pull you, your friends and your mum
You’re a liar if you think you have more game than a femme queer woman. The amount of power they have is scary, but at least it’ll just have you in awe like she can have anyone, and she chose you? Mad!
But it’s also a recipe for premium breakfast.
Forget everything you knew about sex
If you think you’re an expert in foki-foki, just wait until a femme woman sluts you out. You’ll sit at the edge of the bed after thinking of your life while you consider calling your exes to apologise for all the bad sex you guys used to have.
There are so many activities you can do for pride month without breaking the bank. From planning a picnic, speed dating or binge-watching queer movies. Here are seven fun activities you should try this Pride Month.
Organise a picnic with your friends
Write the names of all seven colours of the rainbow on individual stripes of paper. Make everyone pick a colour randomly and then have them bring food items in that exact colour and dress up in the same colour. If your friend group isn’t up to seven, invite more people — the more, the merrier.
Invite your friends to a party where they have to dress as their favourite musician
You don’t even have to spend much money. Ask everyone to come with something to share with others. Set up karaoke and have them sing along to the musician they’re dressed as. Nothing says pride like a bunch of queer people singing Odunsi (The Engine’s) “wicked, sexy!” at the top of their lungs
Go to a poetry night
For queer people that enjoy reading and listening to poetry, you can attend any poetry night event or even host one yourself. Be ready to cry, laugh and have an all-around good experience listening to people’s stories and struggles.
Invite friends to binge-watch queer movies
You don’t need Pride to watch queer movies, of course, but Pride Month just makes binge-watching with your chosen family feel extra special. You have thirty whole days to go through as many full-length films, short films and animated films as possible. Be ready for the loud laughter, the God-when’s, and the tears.
Attend online pride events
For people that can’t physically attend any event, you can live vicariously through an online Pride celebration. Just talking and being in the presence of people that understand you makes all the difference.
Do something nice for someone
You can donate to a safe house or any GoFundMe of your choice. Buy queer books for younger queer kids, and write letters to your friends or those your social media mutuals. Think of Pride as queer Christmas.
Buy Pride merch from queer-owned companies
It may cost a little more to patronise small queer businesses but think of it as giving back to the cause. Buy as many accessories or flags as you can afford for friends and try to have a good time.
If you’re interested in exploring the fascinating world of strap-on dildos, your first time shopping for one can seem confusing. But it’s easier than you think. We’ve come up with these eight helpful tips to help you get through it.
Ask all your questions
There’s no point in being shy. You’ve already taken all the big steps by messaging the vendor / going to a sex-toy shop. No one is more qualified to answer your questions than the person selling it.
If you’ve never had your package stolen before, you won’t understand how important this is. Some vendors package strap-ons discreetly and label them as something else like “ Stockfish” or “Shoes” to throw people off, while others just wrap it as it is (shape, veins and all). Figure out the logistics of your delivery, abeg.
No be you dey use am, no be you go pick the size or shape
Is it okay to own that 12-inch dildo with tentacles sprouting out from it? Yes. ? Totally. But your partner might not be into all that. It’s important to ask the receiver’s opinion. If you’re both first time users, go with a smaller size in a non-realistic shape, so it’s easier to control.
Make sure you get one made out of suitable material
The material affects both the wearer and the receiver. You don’t want to break out in hives during sex because you’re allergic to latex. You can’t go wrong with silicone, but ask questions and make sure that it’s a material that is easy to clean.
As a black person, don’t get a white dildo
No, for real. Why are you also trying to get rammed by coloniser penis? Pick nice colours. Buy a rainbow or skin coloured one. Hell, go crazy and get a basic purple one. Just make sure you like what you’ve gotten.
Don’t even think about the price. Just close your eyes and imagine all the good times you’re about to have. Remember that it’s an investment that will cost an arm and a leg, so get one that has all the fun features possible. Don’t look at your account balance after you purchase it.
Get a good harness
Also, ensure that it’s comfortable. If those complicated ones work for you, go for it. If it’s the leather or brief style harnesses that work, get those. Just make sure it’s compatible with the shape of the dildo you are getting.
Practice how to wine your waist
It will take some getting used to, so don’t rush into using it without enough practice. Stretch before you use it because your entire body will cramp up if you don’t, which can be embarrassing as hell in the heat of the moment.
Learn how to clean it
Now that you’ve gotten all that out of the way make sure you clean your strap-on after every use. It’s just good hygiene. Also, that shit is expensive and cleaning it helps it last longer.
You can tell a lot about a queer person based on their favourite movies about women loving women. To save yourself from stress and eventual heartbreak, this should be on the list of first date questions. Keep reading to find out why.
D.E.B.S. (2004)
If you’ve seen and liked D.E.B.S, you’re usually the most interesting person in the room, and you know it.You mistakenly watched it as a child, thinking it was a spy movie and it guided you to the early realisation that you like women. You’re confident in a way that isn’t intimidating. Everyone thinks you’re a whore, but you’re actually in a committed relationship.
You’re that person in the community that has dated everyone’s ex. You grew up watching The L-Word and were either obsessed with Shane and grew up to be a serial heartbreaker, or you liked Jenny and write poetry for fun now. The most problematic thing about you is that you keep falling in love with straight women.
Rafiki
If you like Rafiki, you have the best taste in music, which has made you the supreme handler of the aux cord during hangouts. You believe in astrology don’t date certain star signs. You claim to hate drama, but you’re constantly at its centre. You’re willing to swim through the kiddie pool full of urine (the dating pool) as many times as it’ll take to find the one. Never change.
Handmaiden
You’re super intelligent and super intelligent and incredibly patient, which is understandable because you sat through the whole movie and had to read subtitles. You’re probably in therapy, which is good because you’re clearly going through a lot if you like Handmaiden. You’re adventurous and into kinky shit. You also lie a lot because you keep saying you watched Handmaiden for the plot. when we all know it has no plot and is basically high budget softcore porn.
But I’m a Cheerleader
You are outgoing with a good sense of humour. You make friends effortlessly, and you love a good enemy-to-lovers story. You also love drag race, but you haven’t gotten into it properly.
Carol
If your favourite lesbian movie is Carol, you only date older women for sport or as a form of self-harm. You still text your ex often and lie about it. You’ve also slept with half of your friends. These people are usually creative and can be a little eccentric, which is why people keep falling for them. You also have a wine addiction.
I am not saying you are a red flag if you like this movie, but the colour of your flag is not green. You’re all about the yearning and longing for love. You keep getting heartbroken by people who aren’t dating you. If there were an award for getting into situationships, you’d win it.
Elisa & Marcela
You say you like Elisa and Marcela because you are pretentious, and you like being the only one in the room that wants something “different” even though the only thing different about it is that it’s in black and white. You’ve also never been able to finish this movie because you only watched the sex scenes and avoided the trauma, and I stan.
The Happiest Season
The only reason anyone would like this movie is that they had a Twilight phase and are now obsessed with Kristen Stewart. Either that or you just really enjoy celebrating Christmas. You are super cute and want to do adorable things like wearing matching sweaters or making TikToks with your partner.
Prom
You don’t tell anyone you like this movie because everyone hates it, and you don’t like petty arguments. You watched this specifically for Meryl Streep because you want to date older women, but you’d never actively pursue one. You are also very romantic, and you still believe in fairytale types of love, which is precious.
Below Her Mouth
You are a baby gay. You don’t do relationships and just like to vibe, which is interesting because you also catch feelings quick. Below Her Mouth was probably your first lesbian film, and even though you’ve seen better, you’re still holding on to it. You thrive in toxic situations, and you like Blue is the Warmest Colour.
Navigating Nigeria as a queer person can be difficult. Tack on being Muslim, you get an extra layer of hardship, especially during holidays celebrated with family. In this article, we spoke to six Nigerian queer Muslims about how they celebrate Ramadan, the conflict between their sexuality and religion, and how they celebrate Muslim religious holidays.
Fatimah, She/they
I often celebrate Eid and most festive periods alone or with a few friends. The only time I’ve celebrated with my birth family was during the part of the lockdown when I wasn’t in school. Eid is just another day for me. I want family members to normalise sending adults owo odun (Eid money), sha. Just because I am an adult now doesn’t mean I don’t deserve money. I’m sending hugs to all the queer Muslims that had to celebrate Eid alone or with family members who don’t welcome them.
One thing about Eid that I hate is the reunions! I detest it! It’s that time when family members or acquaintances update their database on your body size, accomplishments, and life choices. I celebrate Eid with my family; my birth, chosen, and forced family!
I want to celebrate Eid with my friends for a change. It’d be nice. Just because we’re family members doesn’t mean it’s your job to analyse and grade my life on a scale of your life experiences. In that regard, if I ever come out to them, I know what to expect.
I’m past the stage where I struggled with my religion and sexuality. I’m living the way any heterosexual person would live their life. I no longer think my sexuality is a sin. I refuse to believe that the supreme being would be mad at who I choose to love. I only have issues with society dictating their indoctrinated ideas.
Mariam, She/they
I’m not too fond of the stress. Why do I have to do so much just because we want to eat?
I also hate not having Eid cloth. My mum missed it one time and decided not to continue. Not this year, though. I fought for my Aso odun (Eid cloth).
When I was younger, people gave me Owo odun (Eid money) but not anymore. I still don’t know what changed.
Most Importantly, I hate the internal conflict that comes with the holiday. Why am I even celebrating? Do I agree with most of the teachings and doctrines? Am I still a Muslim? I’d also love to celebrate knowing that I am fully accepted and loved by my family, regardless of my identity.
That’s why it makes me sad to think about the rejection I’ll face from my mum and the Muslims I know if they find out I’m Queer. I wonder if I’ll still be able to celebrate Eid with my family after that. I mean, Islam shouldn’t be a monolith.
If you’re a queer and reading this, you are valid and amazing.
April, She/They
I usually celebrate Eid with my family, but it was just my partner and me last year. I spent it this year with my partner and their family, even though they don’t know we are dating. At least, I got to avoid questions from my family about marriage. I missed cooking for everyone sha. I live for the satisfaction on their faces. Ideally, I’d love to spend Eid with my chosen family.
I’ve learnt to keep the relationship between Allah and me personally, shutting everything else because it does no good. It helps me struggle less with my sexual orientation if I don’t think about it too much.
Demi, They/He
A year ago, I celebrated Eid with my immediate and extended family. We all went to my grandparents. During Ramadan, I hate the million and one questions people ask like “How’s school? Do you have a boyfriend now? Or how’s work? And the unsolicited comments like ” You’ve gained weight”. I like Eid money, even though they don’t give that anymore. Can’t they see how deep in the trenches I am? Besides that, I don’t know that there’s a way I’d want to spend a religious holiday. I want to treat it like a typical day where I just chill and exist. Maybe it’s because I struggle to reconcile my religion and sexuality. It’s crazy that the god who supposedly made me in my entirety( sexuality and all) hates me and will make me burn forever. On the other side is religion. It’s a part of me and has become a conflicting battle when I think about it. So I try not to. It makes no sense that my religion supposedly hates me, and I’m supposed to love and practise it. It doesn’t sit well with me, but I’m figuring it out sha.
If cisgender people aren’t telling non-binary people how they should present themselves, they’re busy asking these eight invasive questions. A big step to being a good trans/non-binary ally is to stop asking these questions.
“Are you a boy or a girl?”
None of the above; that’s kind of the whole point. Non-binary people can present themselves in whatever way they want. This question can be harmful and annoying.
There’s a vast difference between asking this question respectfully and saying it as a statement. No one should have to explain their pronouns to you, and non-binary folks don’t just use they/them pronouns, you should respect their pronouns.
“You don’t look non-binary”
There’s no one way to look non-binary. No hairstyle, aesthetic, or facial feature makes you look non-binary. No one has to look a certain way to identify as non-binary.
“What bathroom do you use?”
The clean one with spare tissue papers. Please don’t ask this question. First of all, we are in Nigeria, where there are hardly any gender-neutral bathrooms. We use the one that ensures that no one will throw a tire over our heads when we step out.
Because as soon as people attach “gender-neutral” to a clothing item, it costs an arm and a leg. Plus, clothes become gender-neutral when non-binary folks wear them and decide on that.
“Are you intersex?”
Not all intersex folks are non-binary, and it all boils down to the fact that you expect them to look a certain way. No one owes you an answer to this very invasive question. You can’t be an ally and be asking questions like these.
“What’s going on down there?”
Not a lot, and none of your business. Non-binary folks don’t ask people what they have in their pants because that’s not something sane people do. Cisgender people should extend the same courtesy.
“What was your dead name?”
Not all non-binary folks feel the need for a name change, and when they do change their name, it’s probably because the previous one didn’t feel right, cisgender folks change their names too. They do not owe you an answer to these questions, and to be honest, especially not when the dead name triggers their dysphoria.
Coming out is a pretty tough decision to make. If anyone ever comes out to you, it shows that they trust you or they care about your presence in their life so much they are willing to share their most sensitive information with you.
1. Ask how you can support them
Thank them for trusting you with that information, reassure them and then ask how you can support them. Some of your queer friends may need you to remind others to use the right pronouns or need your help to set up a date with their partner.
Don’t make something that was told to you in confidence become a subject of petty gossip. You can’t just tell people they haven’t already come out to that they are queer. It’s not your place to spread such info.
3. Don’t make it about you
They weren’t intentionally holding back information about themselves from you, and a coming-out conversation is not the time to bring that up. Their willingness to share this with you means they trust and want you in their life. Don’t start asking weird, awkward questions they aren’t ready to answer.
Let them know nothing is going to change and assure them you still love and care for them. Unless and nothing would change that except they steal your food or something, then you’ll deck them.
5. Ease the tension
It takes a lot of courage to come out to anyone. Your friend is bound to be anxious or worried. The best thing you can do is to ease their mind. Make a joke that isn’t offensive or ask if you can hug them.
6. Learn more about the community
Don’t turn your friend into a human queer dictionary. Read up on your own about proper terms used in the community and open your mind. Only ask them when it’s not clear to you. It shows that you support and respect them enough to learn about the community. That’s how to be a good ally.
Using dating apps is not for the weak, especially if you’re a queer person. You don’t know who is going to hate crime you two weeks after texting, or who will ghost you because their long time crush finally texted them back after a month. Here are the queer women you’ll meet on dating apps.
1. The 34-year-old Christian stud that wants kids
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with wanting kids. But these people will text you like they’re recruiting you for pyramid schemes when you mention that you’re not a Christian. I’m not saying this is a red flag, but the flag is not green.
She is always direct, and of course, your first conversation is going to lean into your star sign and how it affects your life. If she ghosts you after reading your birth chart, you’re probably a Gemini or a Scorpio and it was giving her bad vibes.
3. The 19-year-old baby gay that falls in love fast
With every match, she feels like she’s met the love of her life. If you delete the app and come back in a year, she’ll still be as excited to talk to you again. To be honest, she’s a sweetheart and deserves nice things, but she’ll probably just keep meeting people that are looking for something casual.
4. The femme woman you think is straight
She’s the complete opposite of what people think a queer woman should look like. She likes pink, wears short dresses and is probably a Swiftie. Nothing on her account screams queer, but she probably has dated more women than you have.
You either swiped right by mistake or out of curiosity, but now you’ve realised that she’s pretty chill and you can almost see why your ex left you for her because you would do the same. You’ll never get to date her sha, but you might hang out a couple of times.
6. Your single friends
Half of the people you swipe right on as a queer person on a dating app are probably your friends. You both swiped right on each other just for the bants, and never speak again after the first text because you’re not there to date them.
7. The one with no bio that is looking for friends
You’re not even sure if this person is a real person or a catfish when you swipe left because why are you on a dating app, looking for friends? They don’t even give you anything to work with. Just their name and a picture with a Snapchat filter. What are you supposed to do with that?
Not everyone has what it takes to look as effortless as masc queer women do when they do all nine things in this article, and that’s okay. Are most of the things on this list things based on the way masc queer women physically present themselves? Yes. If you like, judge me, I already judge myself.
1. Rolled up t-shirt sleeve
I don’t know if all masc queer women go to a school where they teach them how to roll up their sleeves, but they’re the only ones that make it work and make it hot. If they have a tattoo showing right underneath that sleeve, just propose.
The cut of the suit doesn’t even matter. When a masc queer woman wears a suit, the next thing to do is to beg her to ruin you. Because when next will you be in the presence of ultimate gorgeousness again?
3. Locs
A masc queer woman with locs is a woman that will break your heart and you’ll still tell her thank you for the experience. We should all sign a petition to stop them sha, because why are you collecting hearts like infinity stones? Also, the shorter the locs, the hotter she is.
4. When they pick up a cup from the top, instead of the side
They will never pick up a cup from the side or hold the handle, and to be honest, I’m not even complaining. We should all hold cups the way these gorgeous women do.
5. Manicured nails with rings
If you’re going to flaunt the goods of your trade, it makes sense to keep it clean. If you have well-manicured nails and you wear those chunky rings, text me. For research purposes, of course.
What do they need a bag for when they can just carry their entire lives in their hands or pockets? How they never lose any of their property is an unsolvable mystery, but watching them effortlessly carry their keys, wallet, AirPod case, phone and water bottle in the same hand is the gift that keeps giving.
7. The gold chain
Truly the ninth wonder of the world. There’re very few things hotter than a masc queer woman wearing a simple gold chain without a pendant. The only time a pendant works is if it’s a cross.
8. The man spread
Is it irritating when men do it? Yes, because don’t they already take up enough space in this world?. But on masc queer women, it’s the hottest thing. Yass girl. I support women taking up space! Even if it’s my own legroom. Who died from being uncomfortable before?
9. Leaving several buttons undone
Some people do this and look like wannabe drug dealers from Oshodi, but masc queer women have hacked this look. Especially when they style it so you can see their sports bra. That’s the end. Just let me simp in peace.
Using ladies and gentlemen is outdated and excludes trans/non-binary folks. It’s also such a boring way to start a speech but, if you use any of these, you’ll instantly become cool, possibly funny but most importantly, language inclusive. You’re welcome.
1. “Humans and non-humans”
Every day in the news, someone is turning into a bat, a goat or a cat. Best to just respect all parties involved before they come for you in the night.
Tap into your inner 60+,/retired professor/family friend energy to use this greeting effectively. Pick the time and place for this one sha, because if you use this at a birthday party or in a club, them fit stone you shoe.
3.“people/peers/colleagues/associates/ everyone”
This one is giving millennial, because if I call someone my colleague, it’s an insult. No I will not be explaining further, but it’s inclusive and therefore valid. Here’s to millennials saving the day.
4. “Cherished friends and tolerated acquaintances”
If you use this, you’ll instantly establish yourself as a funny or at least an interesting person. Bonus points for randomly giving people moments of existential crisis and making them question their place in your life. Life is no fun without a little chaos after all.
5. “Friends, family and enemies”
It’s not a gathering of Nigerians if your enemies aren’t disguising among your well wishers. If you have the power to call them out, why won’t you take it? When you do, sha send us videos of the fight that happens after.
Because while there may be gentle ones among us, nearly everybody is mad in this country, and what better way to represent them? Let everybody figure out who is gentle and who is the agbero on their own.
7. “Hi besties!”
You get to sound Gen Z kind of cool. Everyone feels comfortable around someone that calls them bestie. It’s not gendered, so it applies to anyone and can be used in any context.
As a queer person, the best thing that can happen to you is finding a community that cares about you. That’s why when people create those random queer whatsapp group chats, there’s always a rush to join. It’s all fun and games until at least four people annoy everyone and people stop texting.
1. The activist
These people are such a gift. They stay reminding everyone about important queer dates and happenings. They’re always ready to answer questions or ginger people to learn more about queer theory. Grateful for their existence, tbh.
Everyone and their mums have a crush on them. As soon as they join the group chat, everyone goes to their Twitter burner accounts to talk about how fate has brought them to their doorstep and how they can’t breathe. Wahala for who no famous.
3. The single person looking to find love
As soon as a new member joins the group chat, you’ll see them flirting almost immediately. The funniest part is that they never actually find love, but it’s interesting to watch them try. Must be nice to be that bold sha.
4. The person who keeps planning hangouts
The only thing they talk about is hanging out 24/7. It’s sweet and all, but “outside” is expensive and exhausting, please, so maybe don’t make people feel bad for saying no. When the hangout happens though, it’s always memorable — the kind that makes you feel good for a long time.
5. The queer person abroad
It can be a little lonely being in a country so far away, where no one understands your struggles as a queer Nigerian, so it makes sense that they’ll join Nigerian queer groups like these. But they don’t know how much hope they give us still living in Nigeria when they send pictures of themself living so loudly queer and free.
Do you have secrets? Good for you, they know it already. They know all the tea and they don’t mind spilling it on a whim. While this makes people cautious about what they say around them. But gossip doesn’t always mean harm.
7. The person who knows everybody
They’re friends with everybody you can think of. If you want to interview someone, just ask them. If you have a crush on someone and you’re too shy to message, ask them for help or an introduction. They’re the solid plug for everything.
8. The pick-me
These ones stress me out. In what sane world would it make sense to understand your oppressor’s point of view? Arguing with them can be so pointless because they’re so set in their ways. I hope they heal sha because wtf!
9. The close friends
These guys were most likely friends before they got into the group or at least Twitter mutuals. They’re the life of the group, bringing up games and fun topics, arguing playfully or insulting each other while everyone is asleep, but they keep the group active and that’s what matters.
The only things certain in this life are taxes, death and these eight types of people you’ll be lucky to meet at a queer event.
1. The are-we-here-for-the-same-event? people
No. The answer is always no. So what if it was supposed to be a casual event? These ones always look like they just came back from a fashion show, with their two-piece outfits and fancy boots. Never to be caught unfresh.
2. The overly friendly gay man
He talks to you like he has known you for years, which makes you feel warm and welcome,especially if it’s your first queer event. He’s most likely going to introduce you to people you’ll keep meeting everywhere until you become friends. You won’t find him after that because he’s too busy hopping friend groups.
3. The 30+ lesbians
Technically, they’re never really 30+, they just behave that way. They sit together like old men in a club, but when they get wasted? That’s when the party begins.
4. The baby gays
You can always spot them in the crowd. They’re either too hyped or quiet as fuck, looking as gay as the eyes can see. You’d behave any of those ways too if you finally found your community after….
5. The mom friend lesbian
They don’t even have to be your friend or know you. They’ll just walk up to you and ask if you’re doing okay and how you’re getting home? Legit the sweetest set of people you’ll ever meet as a baby gay in a queer event.
Home? What’s that? These guys live for the next thrill. They always know the right places to go and the next happening event. Their energy needs to be bottled up and sold because how do they do it?
7. The ones bonding on the floor
Wherever six or nine queer people are gathered, four people will bond over trauma. If you pass by them, just walk away because as soon as you sit down, it’s about to be filled with tears and feelings you didn’t come to a party for. It does feel good talking about it in a safe space, though.
8. The couple
Wherever you find one, you’ll find the other. They’re like rainbow magnets that always find their way back to each other. They’re cute to look at, though. Especially older couples. They just give people hope.
I met Somto in a queer room in Clubhouse where she said she came out to her mum. Curious about how it happened, I reached out to her and here’s what she told me:
I am the only daughter of my parents. My mum prayed for me after having two sons. She always told me she wanted a princess and that’s where our problems started from.
I grew up wanting to wear my brother’s clothes instead of the dresses my mum got me. I was always on the sports team in primary school. My favorite thing to do after school was take taekwondo classes. I was so good at it that I got a scholarship for secondary school but my mum didn’t allow me to take the scholarship because she didn’t want me to be too active at sports. I was sad to leave taekwondo because it was the only place where being a tomboy wasn’t a bad thing. After primary school, I wanted to go to soccer camp with my brothers but my mum said no — instead took me to cooking classes. With time, she also stopped me from playing football and basketball as well.
She tried to make me have more female friends by introducing me to her friend’s daughters. There was this girl my mum liked to pair me with. Her name was Oby. She was so pretty. I liked spending time with her. One day, we were showering together and she kissed me. After that day, we made out whenever we hung out. I fell in love with her.
One day, I bought her a gift — a notepad and a pen she liked. I gave it to her along with a letter where I confessed my love for her. She said she liked me but I am not a boy and she liked my brother more. My heart was broken. There was a way she said it that felt like punishment. I kept my distance from her and eventually, we stopped being friends.
At home, I liked playing video games with my brothers but my mum would force me to stay in the kitchen with her as often as she could. One day when I was 10, I was having an argument with one of my brothers over whose turn it was to play the PlayStation 1. We got loud and my uncle and my other brother took my brother’s side. When my mum came to the room, I thought she was going to take my side but she turned off the game. In a bid to settle it, she went on a long rant where she said, “You are not a boy.” She said she is not letting me go to an all-girls secondary school even though it was the better school choice for me because she didn’t want me to become a lesbian. She ended it with, “Why are you like this?” I held my breath throughout that rant.
Things changed after that day. I was sure my mum really didn’t like how I looked and developed some sort of shame around it. I was also afraid that my mum knew about me and Oby. I started trying to be more girly. I wore the dresses my mum bought me but the masculinity dey my body.
I went to a mixed school as my mum wanted. In secondary school, I was one of the tallest girls in my set and it brought a lot of attention to me. I wasn’t girly like the other girls so I got teased a lot for slouching my back and having bow legs. My Igbo teacher would either tell me to kneel down or slap my back whenever she saw me slouching. Even when I became the head girl in SS 3. I was scared about being labelled a lesbian so I avoided girls. I had crushes but I wouldn’t even talk to them because I didn’t want anyone to suspect me. I wouldn’t even make eye contact with them. Regardless, I preferred being in school because the efforts to make me less masculine were worse at home.
My dad passed when I was ss2, I tried to be there for my mum by being more girly. I didn’t want her to be sadder when she saw me. One day, just before I graduated from secondary school, I passed the place I used to take taekwondo classes and the instructor saw me. We exchanged pleasantries and he said he was disappointed when I stopped coming. He said my body was strong and it’s a shame to see it go to waste. I was so hurt.
In 2010, I travelled to America for university. I tried to maintain the girliness I was trying out for my mum. I wore more makeup in school. I had more girly friends and I started dating men.
The thing with living away from home is that it allows you to explore yourself. I dated men in university but I became less afraid of admitting that I liked girls. At the end of 2011, someone at a party asked me about my sexuality and I just said, “Bisexual.” I had never thought of it before but after that day, it stuck.
I also started having sex with women. The first time was a drunken night out with one of my friends. We hooked up a couple more times after that. In my third year, I met a girl I liked. We dated for a few months but it wasn’t a great relationship. A few months after we broke, a girl one of my male friends was seeing asking if she could sleep over at my place. She had an early appointment and my house was closer to the place than hers. I agreed and at night, she came close to me. She rubbed her ass on my thighs and I took the bait. We had sex and I enjoyed it but the next day, she told my friend. He was pissed and I understood it but at the same time, they weren’t dating. I stopped talking to both of them and a lot of my other friends because of how close they were to each other. But also, I realised I wasn’t the person I wanted to be when I was with them.
In my final year, I spent a lot of my time alone. After class, I would watch Youtube videos while I studied. One of those days, I was watching Arrows, a queer Youtube personality and something clicked in me. I remember telling myself, “Omo, Somto, you really are a lesbian o.” I replied and said, “That’s okay.” I cried so hard that day. I had finally released my breath since that day my mum told me she was trying everything she could to stop me from being a lesbian.
I moved back to Nigeria in 2018. By then, I had fully accepted myself as a masculine-presenting, sports-loving lesbian. My mum didn’t understand it and she complained whenever she could but I was an adult so she couldn’t police my outfits as much as she used to. I was also trying to mend our relationship by spending more time with her. We often saw movies together or went to the cinema.
One day in 2019, we went shopping. I wanted to get some slippers for myself while she wanted a bag. At the shop, my mum picked out a pair of slippers from the female section and handed them to me. I told her that’s not what I wanted and walked to the men’s section. The people in the store asked me if I was buying shoes for my brother or my boyfriend. I knew it was a trick question because they could see that I was wearing masculine clothes. I ignored it and continued searching for a pair I liked. I noticed my mum didn’t move from where she stood. I became self-conscious and paid for a random pair of slippers just so we could leave. As we were walking out of the mall, my mum walked behind me. It was almost as if she was ashamed of me. The ride home was so quiet I could hear my heart racing.
At home, I confronted her about what happened at the mall. I told her if she didn’t want to be seen around me anymore then she should tell me. I needed to know so we could stop pretending. She became defensive and asked why I would think that. I told her about how she made me feel when I was a child and how it took me a long time for me to heal. The conversation became a back and forth argument. I don’t remember what I said but the next thing I heard was, “Or are you a lesbian?” At that moment, I knew I couldn’t lie to her. I said yes but my voice was low. I told her I didn’t like men like that. I explained to her that though it is possible for me to nurture feelings for men, that wholesome love I feel with women is undebatable. After talking to her, she bent over and started weeping. She wasn’t loud but I could feel the depth of her hurt. She asked me why so many times. She started trying to pinpoint different points in my childhood, trying to find out where she went wrong with me. It broke my heart. At some point, I had to leave the room. In my room, I cried my eyes red.
Later that night, she came to my room and we talked. She asked me if it was a phase. I told her it wasn’t. She told me about how much she wanted a daughter after having two sons. I told her I knew how much she wanted me to be her little princess but I wasn’t. She was quiet for a while and then she said she wanted grandkids. We didn’t say much to each other after that and things were weird in the house for a while. It took months before she started asking me about the woman I was dating. Soon enough, I started volunteering information about my relationship and she seemed eager to listen. Eventually, I introduced her to my girlfriend. She welcomed her with a hug and they got along fine. It’s been a process and I could see her trying.
In July 2021, my girlfriend and I broke up. My mum tried to be there for me. She made me food and asked if I was okay from time to time. She too had grown to enjoy spending time with her. She hugged me and told me it was going to be okay. It was so sweet I cried.
I am a big advocate for coming out to your loved ones. I don’t think that a bad reaction means that they will reject you forever. I believe that loved ones come around and it just requires patience. I am not where I want to be with my mum but I see her meeting there in the future.
Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
Hadiza*, 35, and Zikora*, 40, dated for three years before they got married. Today on Love Life, they talk about being friends who travelled together for work, growing into a relationship and getting married despite living in Nigeria where same-sex marriage is illegal.
What’s the earliest memory you have of each other?
Zikora: It was the day she punished me in secondary school. I was in SS 1 when she was in SS 3. The punishment was for everybody sha, but she championed it. She said she wasn’t the one that punished us but that’s my earliest memory of her.
Hadiza: LOL. The first time we met, it was at a park in Calabar. She was with her then-girlfriend in 2014. Her girlfriend was my friend and they were with some of my other friends so I joined their table.
Zikora: Hadiza came to tell us about this girl that she had met a few minutes before she found us. She decided she was going to go back and look for the girl who had already left. But did she?
Hadiza: I still think I should have said something to that girl. My friends teased me about it and after that day, we all started hanging out more. This was around this time I started a weekly meet at my house for queer women. I wanted it to be a consciousness-raising group but these women said it was too serious so the group phased out.
Zikora: Imagine me in a queer gathering talking about classism, euthanasia and abortion after a long week at work.
Some of us were trying to destress from the work week, dear. It felt like AA meetings, and so the group decided it should be monthly.
Did you two keep hanging out?
Zikora: Yea, I got a job in the firm she worked at but in a different branch.
Hadiza: Then we started travelling together for work. We would go to London and attend conferences together. During tea breaks, we talked about how much we missed our partners who were back at home in Nigeria.
Zikora: We even helped each other pick out gifts for them. We did double dates quite often when we were all in town. Things were going great until my girlfriend broke up with me.
Hadiza: That period, everyone was breaking up in our friendship circle. It was 2016. Even my own girlfriend and I started to grow apart and eventually, we broke up. Around this time, I got a job in Abuja and moved, but we stayed in touch.
Was this when romance entered the story?
Hadiza: Not yet. I wanted her to move to Abuja because I felt like she would enjoy living in Abuja more. She would have more access to finer people to date here and more work opportunities.
Zikora: Well, I wasn’t ready when she asked. Calabar was home for me. It’s where I grew up. Moving to a city I didn’t know as much as I knew Calabar scared me. In early 2017, we had to travel to China for a conference. I asked my office to book my flight from Abuja so I chill with her for two weeks.
Hadiza: She came to meet me in my one-room apartment that had a small queen-sized bed, which we shared as friends.
As friends?
Zikora: As friends o. We were very good friends. I was on the streets scheduling knacks every other day.
Hadiza: I even helped her find people to hook up with. After sleeping and waking up with her beside me every day for two weeks, I caught feelings.
Zikora: Then this Hadiza babe wrote me a love letter.
Awww, what was in the letter?
Hadiza: I basically told her I had fallen in love with her and wanted to be with her. I detailed all the things I could bring into her life if we became a couple. I told her to take her time to think about it while I marinated in anxiety.
Zikora: LMAO. She read the letter out loud. She said she saw marriage with me, a baby and a couple of pets. Then added, “I know this sounds like a proposal and that’s because it is.” Omo, I panicked.
Because of small proposal?
Zikora: LMAO. I panicked because I know her. I knew she was not playing when she said she wanted a relationship with me. More importantly, I was still very much on the streets. I had to end things with everyone before I got into a relationship with her.
Hadiza: This girl took three months.
Zikora: August 2017 is when we became official to me and then we went on the work trip to China as a couple. When we returned, I went to Calabar to pack my things and moved in with her.
Hadiza: We spent Christmas together.
Zikora: Hadiza is such a darling. When I moved in, she planned a welcome party for me. During the holidays, she made me a Christmas tree with 120 bottles of my favourite beer. It was the sweetest thing.
Hadiza, you know how to do romance o. So what was dating like?
Hadiza: Me, I was already in the relationship waiting for her to join me. When she did, we immediately became an old married couple. We did everything together. We particularly like cooking for each other.
Zikora: I learned to make vegan meals for her and she learned to cook meat for me. We joined our finances and assigned responsibilities to each other.
Hadiza: When she moved in, she was like, “If anything happens to us, I don’t want to be homeless,” so I put vex money in her account and told her she could do whatever she wanted with it. At one point, she wanted to contribute to the rent because she didn’t like the idea of me paying it alone.
Zikora: Hadiza was used to living on her own and made decisions without involving me. For example, her house has always been a safe space for queer people and so she would randomly invite people to stay over for as long as they wanted without letting me know. I like my space, so it was upsetting. I wanted to feel like I owned our apartment too.
How did you people resolve this?
Zikora: I told her how I felt about it and she started to include me more in her decisions. We decided to get a bigger house with a spare room and I started contributing to the rent.
For me, having a spare room in the house is not a priority but it is, for her.
Hadiza: You don’t know when someone is going to be homeless and I want to be there for them. I ask for permission to do things like inviting people over. After we resolved this, things went smoothly.
What happened next?
Zikora: Nothing much. In the first year of our relationship, we travelled a lot.
Hadiza: She would travel for weeks and when she comes back, I’d have to travel too. There was a time we met at the airport on her way back from a trip. We hung out for a few hours there, and then I was gone for a month.
Wow. How did you people survive this period?
Zikora: Video calls mostly plus we were both used to being in long-distance relationships. Before we started dating, we spent a lot of time away from our partners. We coped well then we started fighting.
What was causing these fights?
Zikora: We were still getting to know each other as partners so it was mostly tiny things that blew out of proportion.
Hadiza: I remember one time I ordered a shoe for her and the vendor delivered a shoe three sizes down. I was fine with keeping it and getting another one for her but she wanted me to fight the vendor. We argued about it for a while.
Zikora: She still has the shoe sef. That fight was even mild, but the airport fight?
Tell me about it.
Hadiza: She travelled to Abraka for a training and she was supposed to return the day I was to travel. Her training ended early so I suggested we move her flight a day up. I paid for the change on the website that night excited that I would get to spend an evening with her before I travelled.
Zikora: On the day of the supposed flight, I made my way to Asaba airport. Only for me to get there and they said I wasn’t on any of the flights for the day.
Hadiza: She immediately called me to shout. I was annoyed that she didn’t believe that I actually changed the flight time. Instead, she believed the airport people who were just looking for more money. I went to the airport in Abuja to rectify the issue. There, they told me that it takes 48 hours for changes to reflect. I was so pissed because they lied that no changes were attempted. Eventually, they admitted their faults and decided to apologise to her.
Zikora: They called me at night when I was struggling at a hotel where the manager had given my room key to a man because he thought we were together. It was just a bad day for both of us.
How did you resolve that?
Hadiza: I wrote her a long letter about how upset I was and how we needed to change the way we fight. If you see the way she para that day ehn.
Zikora: I am sorry. I was very stressed that day. I recognise now that it wasn’t your fault.
Since then, we have learned to fight fair. No more raised voices or cussing.
Love to hear it. How did marriage enter the picture?
Hadiza: I’ve always known that I wanted to marry her. In that letter in 2017, I told her point blank that if she agreed to date me, it would lead to marriage. During the lockdown, after spending the longest time we have ever spent together in each other’s space, I asked her if she was ready for marriage. Initially, she said no but at the beginning of this year, she said let’s just do this.
Zikora, why did you say no?
Zikora: At the time I wasn’t ready but at the end of 2020, I felt closer to her. In January 2021, we started making wedding plans. I wanted us to get married in America because we both liked being in America, but they were dealing with the Delta variant at the time.
Hadiza: Crazy things were just happening. We decided to go to the UK but they said we needed a fiancé visa to get married there. We tried Netherlands and Canada — no show either. Eventually, we settled on South Africa and the next issue became finding dates. That was a separate hell but we were able to find a date in March that year.
Zikora: On the morning of our flight, the airline said they couldn’t land in South Africa due to COVID restrictions.
Hadiza: After taking our money and everything. We had to move our wedding a day up. We told our friends and everybody started looking for flight tickets for us. Luckily, we found a flight and were able to travel the next day.
Zikora: Then I fell sick on the way there. See ehn, we suffered for this our marriage o.
LMAO. Sorry. Tell us about the wedding!
Zikora: When we landed in South Africa, I just slept till 2 a.m. then I dragged her out with me. We took a long walk and had snacks on the way. We had so much fun just talking to each other. We came back to the apartment by 5 a.m. to sleep for our wedding by 3 p.m.
Hadiza: As Nigerians that we are, we were late for our wedding.
LMAO. We support it.
Hadiza: You know something that pained me? Zikora did not cry. It was such an emotional event for me but obviously not for my wife.
Zikora: You are not serious. Did you cry? You just had one or two tears in your eyes. Don’t mind her. It was all sweet. We didn’t have personalised vows because we kept forgetting, but we came up with something on the spot. I didn’t want a big wedding so it meant a lot to me that I got what I wanted.
Hadiza: Me, I want a big wedding with all my people and we will eventually do that too. We came back to Nigeria the next week and settled into our life as a married couple.
What has that been like?
Hadiza: Honestly, nothing has changed. Since the moment she moved in with me, it has always felt like we were married. The only difference now is that we have rings to show for it.
Do people notice that you two are married?
Zikora: Not really. Most people think our rings are engagement rings.
Hadiza: Even when they notice it’s a wedding ring, they never think we are married. Nigerians can’t even imagine that. LMAO.
LOL. Are you two really going to have kids and pets?
Hadiza: My wife has always wanted to experience pregnancy and I want a mini her.
Zikora: Yes but I’m also looking forward to my tech career.
Hadiza: I don’t believe in capitalism and she, on the other hand, wants to make bastard money. The middle ground is that I get to give out a lot of the money she makes. I intend to be a kept woman while she sponsors all our trips around the world.
Do your parents know you’re married?
Zikora: My mum does. She knew Hadiza was my friend, but it’s when we got married she really came to terms with the fact that we were together. So far, it’s been good.
Hadiza: My parents have always known I’m gay, and my mum is always asking after Zikora. Any small thing, “Where is Zikora?”
Aww. What’s the best thing about your relationship?
Zikora: I love that we are grown-up. This shows in our decision making. We respect each other’s choices, even though we may not be okay with them.
Hadiza: For me, it’s that there’s always someone I can reach out to. Even when we were just friends, I knew I could always count on her.
Sweet. What’s your favourite thing about each other?
Zikora: It’s everything for me but mostly her mind. I love how she thinks and how it complements my own way of thinking. I think of us as a trolley and lever pulley system — where she stops, I start.
Hadiza: I really like her breasts, and she is so intelligent in ways that I am not. I am logic smart and she’s science smart. When we have kids, I know she’s the one handling the assignments.
LOL. Rate your relationship on a scale of 1 – 10.
Hadiza: 10 for me because the relationship just works.
Zikora: 10 too. We are both willing to do the emotional work it takes to stay together.
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I am not the kind of person to participate in group sex. It’s not my thing. I prefer a one-on-one session with my partner. But then I met *Joshua on a dating app.
We planned to hook up on a Tuesday evening. He’d said he was having a threesome later that night but was still down to have sex with me in the evening. I was surprised, but I went to his house in Lekki. When I got there, he told me that one of his threesome partners was en route, and we could wait for him to have our own threesome. It sounded interesting, so I waited. That’s how I had my first threesome in Lagos.
After that day, Joshua and I exchanged numbers and became cordial, and he became my threesome plug.
The Friday night when the fivesome happened, I had gone to Joshua’s house for a threesome. I got there around 10 p.m., and we went on a dating app in search of a third party for our threesome. We sent messages to some people on the dating app but didn’t get any response. Eventually, Joshua asked one of his friends who lived nearby to come over. He agreed. While he was on his way, one of the people we texted on the app responded. He said he was down for a threesome and wanted us to come over to his house in Victoria Island.
We would have gone to his house, but Joshua’s friend was already on his way to us, and there was no way we could leave for Victoria Island without seeing the friend first. Besides, it was already almost midnight, and we didn’t want to move around Lagos anyhow — we didn’t drive.
The Victoria Island guy offered to come pick us up, but we declined. We told him we had already found someone and the person was on his way over. We should have stopped texting him at this point; Joshua tried to stop, in fact, but I told him to continue the conversation just so we would see where it would lead. It was supposed to be harmless.
After we exchanged photos, the Victoria Island guy said he also had a friend over at his house and they, too, were looking for a partner. He said they didn’t mind coming over to the house, and after thinking about it, Joshua and I sent the address. In less than 20 minutes, they were already at our flat.
Now, this is where you should take note of the people involved so you don’t get things twisted.
There’s me.
And then there’s my friend, Joshua.
Then there’s Joshua’s friend who lived nearby. Let’s call him TY.
Now, include Victoria Island guy. Let’s call him Emmanuel.
And then add his friend. Let’s call him Ifeanyi.
At a gathering of gay men in Lagos; someone has probably slept with someone before. It turned out the Victoria Island guy (Emmanuel) knew Joshua’s friend (TY). When they came in and saw each other, they did a cordial greeting and went straight to kissing.
And this was the start of my problems. I wanted to kiss Emmanuel because he was attractive. I wasn’t attracted to Joshua’s friend TY at all. Next thing, Victoria Island guy’s friend (Ifeanyi) started kissing Joshua, and so I was left stranded. All the parties in the threesome were kissing each other and I was by myself, looking askance. After so much kissing had gone on, they decided to make room for me.
I should add that TY became available to kiss at some point, but because I wasn’t attracted to him, I kept moving away so he wouldn’t come close. Each time he drew near, I drew backwards or found someone’s body part to occupy me. It was weird.
Soon, space freed up for me to kiss Emmanuel, but when I came close to him, he bent his head all the way back, almost like a gymnast. It seemed weird at first until I realised he didn’t want to kiss me.
In this whole arrangement, I should mention the sexual roles played by everybody. I am a top, as well as the three other guys: Emmanuel, TY, and Ifeanyi. Only Joshua was bottom, and if we were fair, this seemed a bit unbalanced. A better equation would be three tops and two bottoms or people who could switch from top to bottom. I could have bottomed, but I wasn’t prepared for it. When I came for the threesome, my plan was to top. One top and two bottoms.
But back to this fivesome.
After several minutes of kissing, sucking and playing around, the sex began. Emmanuel bent Joshua over, lubed him up and penetrated him. And I had never seen anything scarier all my life. How do I describe it? Emmanuel was so aggressive with his thrusts. Even pornstars don’t behave like that. And as though his rough thrusts were not enough, he added very loud slaps to the mix. He would thrust very fast, then slap Joshua’s butt so hard, it resounded across the apartment. When I heard the first slap, I panicked. I wanted to ask Joshua if he was okay because I did not understand how anyone would genuinely enjoy such a violent act.
***
We took turns. After Emmanuel pulled out, I went next. Then TY, and then Ifeanyi. I don’t think Ifeanyi was really into it. He penetrated briefly and then pulled out. At this point, nobody had climaxed yet. The main focus seemed to be on pleasuring each other.
Because we had just one person bottoming and no other person willing to take dick at that time, people started fucking each other’s thighs. I would have bottomed too, at least to ease the workload of the bottom, but I debated it.
And then, Emmanuel came to me, wanting to fuck my thigh. I wanted to say no, but he was horribly persistent, so I allowed him. He had a condom on and it was dark, so I let him do his thing.
Soon enough, he started begging me to let him put his dick in me. I said no. I wasn’t prepared to bottom and did not want to stain anywhere, but he was persistent. After a long while of incessant begging, I agreed.
He penetrated. About five thrusts in, I noticed something was off, so I asked him if he was wearing a condom. He said yes. That didn’t reassure me. I don’t trust men, certainly not in this setting where we were meeting for the first time. Men lie a lot, and when sex is involved, the lies take on new dimensions.
So I tried to feel his dick for the condom. He moved my hand away and asked what I was trying to do.
“I’m checking for the condom you said you are wearing,” I said.
He hesitated, and so I pushed him out of me. Lo and behold, he had no condom on.
“Where’s the condom you said you had on?” I said.
To see Emmanuel penetrate me without a condom and still lie about it made me very upset. I felt violated, lied to. I am on Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP) but I don’t have raw sex with people, especially Lagos men. I mean, I don’t know where your dick has been, so don’t give me something I won’t be able to account for. I use condoms for a number of reasons. One, I am very sexually active. Two, I like to have sex with people and forget about them. When you have sex without condoms, you are plagued with anxiety about your partner’s health status. I don’t want that kind of anxiety.
“Guy, what is the meaning of this rubbish?” I demanded. “Why did you fuck me raw and still lie about it? Why would you do that kind of thing?” I was agitated at this point. Right there, I took my phone and set a calendar reminder to get tested in two weeks time.
Emmanuel lied. He said he was wearing one, and that it probably fell off somewhere.
Fell off where? Is this guy mad?
I threw a fit. I turned on the lights and told everyone to stop fucking, immediately.
“Oya, oya, all of you start wearing your clothes. This thing is over. Pack it up and go home. Now!”
It wasn’t my house, but if I was being violated that way, surely I had a major say. Everyone looked surprised, but I wasn’t backing down.
Now, here’s the most surprising thing. While I was throwing this fit and becoming agitated by the lie told by Emmanuel, my friend, Joshua said nothing, did nothing to show that he was on my side. I know he wasn’t my friend in the true sense of the word; we met about two sex appointments ago, but I still expected him to say or do something to show that he was on my side and was annoyed by Emmanuel’s actions. But he did nothing. I did not know how to feel about that.
Emmanuel continued to lie. He told everyone that he didn’t know he was not wearing a condom, and that when he realised, he pulled out immediately.
EXCUSE ME? Guy, you were not wearing a condom!
But no matter. The sex that everyone had was enough.
They got dressed and started leaving. At the door, Emmanuel tried to shake my hands as though everything was normal.
“Fuck off,” I said.
That was when TY stepped in to stop any budding conflict.
“Emmanuel was just trying to make peace,” TY said.
But I was not having it. I kept my hands to my sides until they exited the house and I was left alone with Joshua.
“Why didn’t you speak up when I told everyone what Emmanuel did?” I asked Joshua after everyone had left.
His reason was that he had been in situations and heard stories where people having an orgy would get into a fight and throw fists and everything would get so messy, and he was trying to avoid that.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to speak up,” he said. “But you know we are gay people. If the whole thing escalates, someone might call the police and you and I both know where that can lead.”
At that moment, I understood why he chose silence.
“Do you still want to fuck?” Joshua asked later when I calmed down.
“Yes,” I said. “I still want my nut.”
We had sex and we came. Two weeks later, I went to get tested and I was negative for any disease.
It was an interesting experience, and I do want to have sex with more people. After that time, I have done a foursome with Joshua, and I am open to more. Lagos can make you do things; that’s the conclusion of the matter.
Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
Audio: Our Relationship Was For Character Development
*Osas (20) and *Seyi (21) started out very in love with each other. But things went downhill when someone cheated, and they opened their relationship. Today on Love Life, they discuss their break-up and its effect on their friendship.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Seyi: We met on Twitter. We’d been mutuals for a while and then she made a tweet asking how to slide into someone’s DMs. I responded and then she slid into my DM with a cheesy line: “My name is Osas, but you can call me the love of your life.”
Osas: God, I was so sappy. But that line was smooth. Literally my best work. And you can tell that it worked because a month later, she came to Benin to see me. I was so anxious that day. Even though we spoke frequently, I kept wondering how she could decide to leave Ibadan and come to Benin just to meet me.
How did it feel to meet each other for the first time?
Seyi: I was a bit nervous. And then I saw her coming towards me and the tension eased.
Osas: I realised I had fallen in love. If I was smitten during our chats, when I saw her, I was completely gone. She looked absolutely perfect. Her smile was to die for, and her locs too. She is shorter than me, so when we hugged, she was completely enveloped in my arms. I looked at her and felt safe. I couldn’t wait to show her to everyone. She followed me to school, and I introduced her as my girlfriend to all my friends. In my head, I had found home.
Seyi: We booked a hotel room. Immediately we got into the room, she kissed me. Before then, I had never kissed a woman. It was my first queer relationship. When the kiss happened, my first thought was, “Wow. So this is what it’s supposed to feel like?” Afterwards, we went to her aunt’s place to pick up some things. She kissed me again in the dark stairway, and that kiss might be one of my favourite memories of her. We got dinner, and of course, the sex happened.
Osas: Lots of it. That was my first time having sex with a woman, and when I tell you I was wrecked. Listen, women will wreck you. We were just there, existing in each other’s space. I took a lot of pictures with her camera and laughter came easily. I was enamoured by her.
Would I be right to call this your honeymoon phase?
Osas: I think every phase was our honeymoon phase. She was so good to me. She was never not good to me. At every minute of our relationship, I was deeply in love with her and unable to take my hands off of her.
Seyi: I think our honeymoon phase started before we started dating. We used to spend hours on the phone talking every night about the most random things. Before her, I didn’t like calls and I didn’t think I could spend hours on a call with one person and not run out of things to say. But she came into my life and everything changed.
How many days did the Benin trip last?
Osas: It was just for the weekend. She left on Sunday and I cried so much. It felt like I’d known what life is like with her, and I didn’t want to go back to a life that didn’t have her physical presence in it. Did I mention that nobody asked anybody out in this relationship?
Ah, so the relationship happened naturally?
Seyi: More or less. At first, we were waiting to meet physically so we could define our relationship. But one night, she said she referred to me as her girlfriend while talking to her friends, and I was like, “So are we dating now?” She said yes and that was it.
Osas: Before Seyi came to Benin, I went to the movies with my friends and when we were talking, I told them about the girl I liked, and I kept calling her my girlfriend. When I got home that night, I told her.
Aww, see love.
Osas: LMAO. The first time I told her I loved her, she froze. She didn’t say anything on the phone. This was before we met physically, and were simply speaking over the phone. To save myself from embarrassment, I quickly added that I meant it as a friend, because I considered her to be my G. Of course, she knew what I was doing, and she told me I didn’t have to add the “like a friend” clause because it wasn’t about me; she was just not ready to say “I love you” to me yet. She eventually said it when she came to see me in Benin. She wrote a whole poem.
Seyi: I’d never really been the kind of person to talk about feelings and say things like “I love you.” Love has always been a big thing for me. I don’t want to say it without really meaning it, especially for people I’m in or planning to be in romantic relationships with. 2019 was a defining year for me though. I was opening up more. I wasn’t the kind of person to say I love you to a friend at the end of a call, but I could text it to friends under the right circumstances. I prefer to show my friends I love them rather than tell them.
Osas: I have always been a lover. I am still one. I tell my friends I love them all the time.
So, how did your relationship progress after you met for the first time?
Seyi: It was still largely a long-distance relationship, but it went well. I’m not sure we saw up to 10 times during our entire 11-month relationship.
Osas: Long distance was hard, but we tried to make up for it by speaking constantly and giving each other gifts. Seyi gave the best gifts. Random stuff, tailored stuff. I could randomly mention something and then she’d be like, “Hi, I got this for you.” Gift-giving is my love language and she aced it.
Seyi: I think gift-giving is my greatest asset.
Osas: Not just that. You’re great with your mouth too.
Seyi:[Clears throat]
Osas: I mean words. But sex with you was great. It’s one of the things I miss.
Seyi: To be honest, I feel like I wasn’t really good at sex at the start of our relationship. But as I slept with more people, I learned new tricks and started getting better.
Osas: And boy, did you get better.
Wait, you slept with more peop—?
Osas: At some point, the relationship became an open one. This was a month and a few weeks after we started dating. I didn’t want it to be open at first o, but she pointed out that I was polyamorous and it would be better for me to see more people, rather than being exclusive to her alone.
Seyi: Before we even started dating, we already discussed the potential of an open relationship. She was polyamorous, but I loved the idea of monogamy. It seemed like a deal-breaker at the time, but she eventually agreed to a closed relationship.
What prompted you to eventually open the relationship?
Osas: I kissed my friend.
Ma’am?
Osas: It meant nothing. It was just vibes.
Ma’am?
Seyi: One day, she called me crying that she’d kissed a friend of hers. I was really pissed at first, and I asked her to give me some space. I thought about it and realised I didn’t want to break up with her. And I also realised that I wasn’t as hurt about her kissing someone else. It was more like the shock of it and the hurt that she broke the defined rules of our relationship at the time. So I called her and told her okay, let’s open the relationship.
Osas: The kiss meant nothing to me. It was just kissing. But then I knew it’d make her unhappy so it made me unhappy. I cried because I knew she wouldn’t see it as that, and it would hurt her. I could have kept quiet but I couldn’t. I loved her too much, but I loved being able to be with other people. And being monogamous was driving me insane.
How was it like navigating an open relationship, especially seeing how you moved from being exclusive to being open?
Osas: It was calm from my end. It was Ms Monogamy here that was fucking half of Ibadan.
Ehn?
Seyi: It was okay. The key was honesty and communication. I told her about all the people I had things with and she did the same. Considering that it was my first queer relationship, it was nice to have the opportunity to explore a bit more. It was almost like how it was with Kat and Adena in The Bold Type.
I don’t think the transition from being exclusive to being open was actually that hard. At first, I didn’t really do anything with anyone. Then during a Truth or Dare game in a queer group I’m in, I kissed a few people and one of them asked me if I wanted to fuck. Her exact words were, “Wanna fuck?” I thought about it and was like, “What the hell, why not?” But the sex wasn’t great at all, and she was the one who opened my eyes to see that I wasn’t as good at sex as I thought. That was the start of my learning curve.
Osas: Basically, she was fucking everyone.
And how did this make you feel?
Osas: As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. That’s how it was.
Okay then, let’s talk about you. While Seyi was hooking up with new people, what were you doing?
Osas: Battling depression LMAO. Not because of her or the circumstances though. I was making friends and trying to pass classes. She was doing her own thing, and I was doing my own thing. I loved when she told me about it.
Where did the relationship go from there?
Osas: Please ask her. What me I know is that she became off. This was in the tenth month of our relationship. She said it was the distance, but it was weird. We were talking less and it seemed like she was avoiding me.
After the Christmas holidays in December, we went back to our schools. We started having some problems around January of 2020 when it felt like we stopped being each other’s first point of contact. A clear instance of this was when I was having a panic attack and she wasn’t the first person I wanted to talk to. In fact, it felt like I didn’t want to tell her anything. And then in February, about eleven months after we started dating, we broke up because I didn’t feel in love with her anymore.
She was busy all the time and hardly had time for me. I was crushed. I felt like I did something, like I was the problem.
Seyi, what would you say these problems were?
Seyi: We both met people. I met someone whom I had sex with a couple of times. She started becoming the first person I’d text about things sometimes. And we texted consistently. I’m not very great with texts — I tend to reply ridiculously late or abandon texts randomly — so when I started talking to someone without the communication breaking, it was a sign.
Osas also met someone she was speaking with a lot. My memory is shit, but I have vague memories of her always speaking with that person and telling him random things about the day before telling me.
Interestingly, we’re both dating those people now.
Oh.
Seyi: I think it was just a case of growing apart. We realised something was off at some point, and I remember us agreeing to work on it. She was going to come to Ibadan for Valentine’s and I thought seeing her would change things.
But it didn’t. A few hours after she left Ibadan, I realised I didn’t want to work on the relationship anymore. It was partly because I realised I didn’t feel in love with her anymore and partly me realising I had deep feelings for the person I’m currently dating. So, I called her and told her I didn’t think I was in love with her anymore and that we needed to break up. I cried as I broke the news to her.
Osas, how did you take this news?
Osas: I kept telling her it would be fine. But when the gravity hit me, my heart broke into a million pieces. I thought my life had shattered, and I was going to die. I didn’t want to lose her completely. I wanted to be her friend at least, but what I really wanted was to stay in her life. I never got the concept of falling out of love with someone. I thought it could be fixed.
Seyi: That’s probably because you’re polyamorous. I don’t think I have the capacity to love more than one person at a time, so if I have deep feelings for one person while in a relationship with another person, it’s because I’ve lost romantic feelings for the other person.
Osas: I would wake up at 7 a.m. and start crying. All my friends were so worried. Now, I tell people I’m still in love with her, and though it’s not enough to risk what I have with my current partner, it’s enough to still care about her.
Seyi, what did you say to her offer of remaining friends?
Seyi: I didn’t think it was possible. I felt like she would still feel angry or hurt about the breakup and that if we were going to be friends, we’d need some time apart to first heal and get used to the idea of being friends, especially since I planned on pursuing a relationship with another person, but she didn’t feel the same way.
Osas: I didn’t at all. It wasn’t the breakup that hurt; it was how you acted after. You’re a shitty friend.
“Are” or “Were”?
Seyi: I don’t think I am. I think we behave differently in friendships. Like we already established, you’re the kind of person who tells your friends you love them and speaks to them all the time. I’m the kind of person who prioritises the person I’m with romantically. I don’t tell my friends I love them and don’t even text them constantly. If I text you regularly, I’m probably in love with you. My relationship with my friends is the type where we’re there when we need each other and can go without texting at all for weeks and still pick right back up where we left.
Osas: Okay then, you were a shitty friend to me. And can I be honest? Deep down, I hoped my prayers caught up with you and you’d feel a fraction of how I felt.
Seyi: See, my main problem was the fact that you didn’t understand the new boundaries that came for me when we redefined our relationship. I remember on my birthday when you blocked me because I prioritised my girlfriend over you. You called me the night before my birthday and when it was getting close to 12 a.m., I told you I had to hang up because my girlfriend would definitely want to be the first person I cross over into the new (birthday) year with, and you got pissed and blocked me. That made no sense to me.
There was also the time you called me when you were having an anxiety attack and after you calmed down and we were just talking, my girlfriend called and I said I had to go, and you got pissed about that too.
I was wary about things like these in the first place. It’s hard to go from girlfriends to best friends when the new person I am dating is part of the reason we broke up in the first place. It didn’t make sense for me to be best friends with someone I couldn’t talk to about the person I was in love with. I still wanted to be friends with you, but I felt like we first needed some time apart.
It got worse when you told me thinking about me made you want to kill yourself sometimes, and then you were still saying you wanted to be friends with me. How could I be best friends with someone who wanted to hurt herself because of me? I couldn’t see any way being best friends would work out for me or you.
Hmmm.
Osas: I got the fact that we needed time apart. But I think you went about it the wrong way. If you had acknowledged the friendship, things would have been a lot different. Because you dismissed the friendship, it felt to me like our relationship itself meant nothing to you.
I used to think you were my friend before you were my girlfriend, then when we broke up you said we were never friends. That hurt a lot. I guess everything hurt in general but I never considered you the bad guy because you were good to me.
Seyi: I’m sorry I hurt you. I don’t think we were friends before becoming girlfriends. We were in the talking stage, and I always considered you as someone I was going to get into a relationship with and treated you as such. That’s why I’d speak on the phone with you every night for hours and talk with you constantly. I don’t do that with my friends. I do that with love interests.
So, what do you think about your relationship with each other now?
Osas: Like I said, it was good. It just became weird. My energy with her will never change. I want her to be happy. I don’t consider us friends in the sense of the word. She’s just someone I fell in love with and no longer talk to. Do I still miss Seyi? Sometimes. Like when I see something I’d want to share with her or remember something about us.
I don’t regret the relationship. I’m glad it happened, and I’m glad it ended. I guess it was for character development.
Seyi: It’s the same for me. I don’t regret the relationship at all.
Sex Lifeis an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.
The subject of today’s Sex Life is a 26-year-old bisexual man who talks about being sexually abused as a kid and how that led his developing a sexual addiction and finding it hard to say ‘no’ to sex. He talks about dealing with his sexual addiction, going celibate and eventually finding love and maintaining a healthy sex life.
What was your first sexual experience?
My first sexual experience wasn’t consensual. My mum had this sales girl who sometimes slept in our house and ate with us and stuff. One day, when I was around ten, she made me put my hand in her vagina and finger her. And it kept happening. She would come over and instruct me on what to do, with my hands and with my penis. I couldn’t even get hard then, so I have no idea why she wanted me to do it.
I’m so sorry.
Yeah. It went on for almost two years, then my mum found out and was so mad. She wanted to beat the girl, but she ran away. My mum tried calling the girl’s people; they said they hadn’t seen her.
I was and still am so grateful to my mum for that. She protected me from what could have gone on for even longer and reacted in a way that made me know I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I could talk to her about sensitive things.
That’s amazing. Shout out to your mum. Do you think being sexually abused affected your sex life?
I do. I became so fascinated and obsessed with sex and sexual things. From like 15, I watched way too many pornos, read porn comic strips, hentai etc. I was a little bit too excited about anything sexual. When I started having sex on my own, it kinda went into another realm.
Explain…
I had consensual sex for the first time at 17. This was after secondary school and before uni. I was home for a year, and attending computer class. I was close to a girl in class, and one day, our teacher, didn’t show. Her house was close, so we decided to go there. One thing led to another, and we had sex at her house.
After that, we started a habit of missing classes to go to her house when her parents weren’t around to have sex.
I became curious about sex with almost everyone I met. And right after this period, I had some big changes in my life. I moved to Abuja for university, my mum finally let me have a phone and I realised I was bisexual.
Oh?
It’s funny. I always found guys as attractive as I found girls, but it was when I moved to Abuja that I met people who made me understand what that was and what I meant.
So what was your sex life in university?
Let me set the scene for you: I got into uni at 18, a brand new adult, away from my mother for the first time, a brand new bisexual ID card and unattended trauma. To worsen the matter, my grades were great and I was good looking. All I can say is, for the duration of my university education, I had a busy sex life.
Can I get more details?
People wanted to sleep with me and I was always down. I was very experimental and didn’t say no to sexual experiences. At one point, I was having a new person sleepover at my off-campus apartment at least twice or thrice a week. I discovered 2go and Badoo and started hooking up with guys, then girls from school. It was a lot of sex.
Why didn’t you say no? Did you just not want to say no or didn’t feel like you could?
I didn’t even realise that I could say no. The thought of saying “no” didn’t cross my mind.
I wanted to sleep with some people, don’t get me wrong. But a lot of the sex that I had wasn’t because I wanted to. It was because the people I was sleeping with wanted to. Abuse and rape damage you in ways that you don’t even realise.
That’s heartbreaking. What was it like after uni?
For a while, it was mostly the same. I think I developed a bit of sexual addiction — a lot of sex, a lot of sex parties. Then I met my girlfriend. I consider her my very first girlfriend because she was the first partner I had an emotional connection with. She was also the first person I tried to be monogamous with.
How did that play out?
Horribly. We dated for about four months, then I ended things because I felt really bad. I couldn’t stop sleeping with other people. I hated being in a place where I couldn’t control myself. So a few months after we broke up, I went celibate.
How long were you celibate for?
A year and six months. It was horrible and great at the same time.
Can you explain?
It forced me to deal with my trauma and establish boundaries and learn how to say no. That wasn’t easy and required so much work, maturity and strength from me, my friends and loved ones. But It was great because I felt more in control of my life and myself for the first time.
Did you go back to dating after you ended your celibacy?
Yeah, I did a bit of casual dating. Then I met my boyfriend — who I am still with.
What’s your sex life like now?
Very moderate and healthy. My boyfriend and I have been together for two years, and it has been great. I am at a place where I understand myself and my body and know how to say yes and no. My partner and I are experimental, so we occasionally bring other people to bed just for the fun of it. Other than that, it’s great sex and with me in control of myself and what happens to my body.
That sounds amazing.
It is.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your sex life right now?
10. I’m very happy with it. I’ve found a great balance and I’m having great sex so there’s nothing to complain about.
Editor’s note: In 2014, Ezinne* met Esther* and they dated for about three years before Esther got married. In this As Told To, Ezinne talks about the relationship they had and how they are both married to other people now.
When people can explain their childhood with one word, it’s always strange to me. My childhood was a potpourri. It was fun sometimes and boring at other times. But it was also painful.
I started growing breasts at 7. It was during this time one of my uncles started fingering me. I eventually told my mum about it and she confronted him, but I think that incident put a beacon on me that attracted abusers. As a child, I was pretty, and so everyone wanted me on their bridal train. I remember the grooms or the groomsmen at those weddings touching me inappropriately. I remember one groom asking me if I have ever seen a penis before. I was 8. I thought all of this was normal. It was as if older men couldn’t see me and leave me alone.
I knew I liked girls before all the abuse started. We had a neighbour who had a daughter I liked. Amaka* and I would go to our backyard to kiss and touch each other. It was the most pleasurable thing ever, but she and her family moved when I was 8.
I was admitted to an all-girls secondary school shortly after. I met other girls who liked girls there. I had a school mother who also doubled as my girlfriend. She would come to my house after school and during weekends to spend time with me. One Saturday, my mum caught us kissing. She didn’t say anything to me even after my girlfriend left. By the next Monday, I was enrolled at a mixed school.
It was at this school that I realised something was wrong with me. For one, a lot of my classmates didn’t know anything about sex. I was about 12 during this time. Whenever we were gisting and I shared my experiences about kissing, they looked shocked at how far I had gone. Most of my female friends had not seen a penis before. They always had questions for me. I was open to answering their questions, but I knew something wasn’t right.
Throughout secondary school, I stayed away from being with girls because of the incident at my former school, but in my first year at university, I met Tobi*. I met her through a friend. One day, Tobi invited me to her party, and we hung out. Towards the end of the party, we ended up in the bathroom and made out. I asked her in between kisses how she knew I liked girls, and she said I looked like I did. We dated for a few months, but we grew apart almost as fast as we started dating.
I met another girl shortly after. She was in my faculty, but in a different department. She loved to draw. I found her fascinating, but our romance was short-lived. In my second semester, I realised I had a crush on my roommate, Esther*. We had always been cordial and I didn’t want to ruin that, so I didn’t do anything about it till the second semester.
It started like play. We would call each other “my wife”. We started taking evening walks together and spending more time together after classes. One day, I told her I wanted to kiss her and she asked, “What is stopping you?” When I told her I liked her, she said she knew and was waiting for me to open my eyes. We dated for the rest of the time I was in university.
It was the best relationship I have ever been in. She was so sweet to me. We were very much in each other’s lives. We knew each other’s parents, siblings and extended family. We did everything together — bathing, eating, going to the movies, etc. The only thing we didn’t do together was school because we were in different departments. Our friends became mutuals, and they all knew we were dating. However, she had a boyfriend.
It wasn’t a big deal because I had a boyfriend when I started dating her too, but I wasn’t serious with him so we broke up early in my relationship with Esther. I didn’t mind her boyfriend either because he made our relationship less real. I loved her with every fibre of my being, but sometimes I would remember that the bible calls us sinners and I would panic. In those moments, I wouldn’t want to be with her anymore.
Before her, being with women was passive — I didn’t have to keep with the women I was intimate with and our relationships were short-lived, but with her, I was fully committed. In fact, I wanted to marry her. At the time, to me, it meant coming out and living openly as a gay woman even though I am bisexual. I thought about my family, my faith, and felt overwhelmed..
We were in our third year and still roommates when I broke up with her. I tried not to talk to her as often as I used to. I stopped spending time with her. Within a week, she started flirting with this stud. Omo, my chest started doing gbim gbim. I didn’t even know I was capable of jealousy. I would see them together, and it would be as if I had forgotten how to breathe. I didn’t know when I texted her. “Ejo, baby mi, please come back.” She teases me about it often. The other babe was heartbroken sha. She told Esther that she had been waiting for our break up so it was extra funny the day she walked in on me and Esther kissing. She said, “I knew it” and walked out of the room.
In our final year, her boyfriend proposed to her. I was excited for her. He made her happy and I loved seeing her happy. I think we spent more time together during this time than we ever had. We also had the most sex — in the kitchen, in hotels, in bathrooms.
On her wedding day, in her wedding dress, she looked so beautiful. For a few seconds, I wished she was getting married to me. I think I cried, but is it wild that I was also really happy for her?
The first time we had sex after the wedding wasn’t planned. We hadn’t talked about whether or not we were indeed broken up as she was now married. We still hung out, and we were at the movies that day. I was holding her hand when she kissed my cheek. Next thing, we were kissing, and I was touching her breasts. The cinema was empty, so we had sex. I could see that she felt bad when we were going home, and I felt bad because her husband is also my friend.
Three months later, we had sex again. This time, we planned it. We were texting, and she said she missed me. I knew what she meant, so we picked a date and a venue. The sex that day was explosive, but we both felt guilty. We talked about it and decided it was best to end our relationship as sexual partners. She didn’t want to be that wife that cheated; I didn’t want anything that would make her feel bad about being with me. I cried so much that day.
I met my husband shortly after. He is a sweet guy and he cares so much about me. The best thing is that he accepted me as I am. I told him everything about me — my sexuality, the abuse, my sexcapades. He was the first guy I told about my sexuality who wasn’t thinking about a threesome. He was exactly what I needed at the time.
He proposed to me six months after we started dating. I didn’t give him an answer because I wanted to be sure I wasn’t just saying yes. I have lived a wild life. Him? Not so much. He loves listening to my stories. He would laugh with me at the funny incidents and cry with me for the sad ones.
We got married shortly after. Esther was happy for me. She thinks he is a great guy and he likes her too, but I haven’t told him about her. Maybe because telling him puts a definite end to me and her. But at the same time, I know we are over as lovers. We still do video calls every other day.
What we felt for each other hasn’t evaporated. It’s there and we both know it, but we are living with our choices.
Oyin* reached out to me when I put a call out for women to tell me about the worst thing a friend has done to them. In her message, she said her best friend and girlfriend at the time outed her. I was curious about how that played out and I asked more questions. Here’s what she told me:
I knew I liked girls since I was a child but I didn’t have an opportunity to explore it until I joined a new school in SSS 1. On my first day, I recognised Ese*, a classmate from primary school. She remembered me too. We spent the rest of the day together. After that day, we did everything together. We were seatmates in class and we ate together during break time. On the weekends, she came over to my house, and we watched TV.
I had come across the word ‘lesbian’ before I met Ese. I knew I liked her more than a friend but I was too scared to say anything to her. One Saturday, we were together at my house watching TV. We were waiting for the commercials to end when she asked if I liked her. I told her I liked her as a friend and she said, “I mean, do you like me as a girlfriend?” I was too shocked to say anything. Then, she kissed me. It was unspoken, but we started dating that day.
We dated for about a year, stealing kisses in between classes. Midway through SSS 2, she stopped coming over to my house as often as she used to. One day during break time, I got our food and headed to the spot we always ate. Ten minutes after I arrived at our spot, one of our classmates walked in. He asked why I was sitting there alone, “Are you waiting for Ese?” I was annoyed that he was asking because I knew he liked her but I didn’t want to be rude. I ignored him, and on his way out, he said, “I just hope you have not infected Ese with your lesbianism.” I said it was too late. He rushed to my seat and slapped me, followed by blows to my face. He beat me until I passed out. I woke up in the sickbay where the principal told me I was being expelled for fighting in school.
After the incident, Ese stopped talking to me. My classmates pretty much avoided me till we graduated. I thought there was something wrong with me, so I tried to stop liking girls. I got on Facebook and flirted with the boys. In my first year at University, I tried dating a guy. He was dark-skinned, tall with an afro — the kind of boy the girls in my hostel liked. I knew I wasn’t attracted to him but I indulged him whenever he made moves on me. It dragged on until my second year at the university. Then I came home for the holiday, and I met Tosin*.
I was running an errand for my mum in our estate when Tosin passed me on a bike. She stopped after she saw me and came to talk to me. She asked if I lived in the estate and I pointed at my house. We exchanged numbers and she left. The next day, she came over to see me. We talked and walked to her house. We held hands as we walked through the route without street lights. She told me her age, and I told her we were agemates. We talked about school. It was a nice conversation and I didn’t want it to end.
We continued to take night strolls from my house to hers. We would take a route that was often deserted. One day, she pulled me to her and kissed me. I felt so good but I was also worried about the few houses around there. What if someone saw us? She didn’t mind though.
Her parents were pretty cool. Tosin told me that they both schooled abroad, so they didn’t mind a lot of things Nigerian parents did. They were excited that she had a friend in the estate and encouraged me to come over often. My mum was also excited that I had made a new friend. Tosin and spent a lot of time together. Sometimes, we just watched TV. Other times, we had hot make-out sessions.
One day, we were kissing when her mum walked in. I pulled away immediately but I wasn’t sure if her mum saw us. He asked Tosin to get her something like nothing happened. After Tosin left the room, her mum turned to me and said, “There’s no need to hide. I am a bisexual woman and I used to date women before I got married to Tosin’s father.” When Tosin returned, she told me her mum knew we were dating. It’s still one of my favourite memories to date. I realized that even her dad knew and none of them ever made me uncomfortable. We started to hang out more at her house because I was scared of my mum and my sisters finding out about us.
Tosin and I got closer. I went to school and while I was there, we stayed in touch. I couldn’t wait to come home to her. In August 2018, I came home for the holiday. That night, we took a walk around our estate. We held hands and talked about how much we missed each other. When we got to the route we often took, she stopped to kiss my cheeks. Suddenly a man walked past us. I hadn’t realized that he was following us. I became scared but she didn’t seem to care. We fought about it and our walk ended abruptly. She went home, and so did I.
Two weeks later, my mum sent me to the house behind ours to buy pap. The compound was empty when I walked in. As I was figuring out what to do, the man from that night walked in through the gate and locked it. He walked past me into the building and locked the door behind him. I was afraid and I wanted to leave immediately. I knocked on the door of his apartment but he didn’t answer. I could hear him shuffling inside the house. I kept knocking for a few minutes before he opened the door and pulled me inside.
I screamed as loud as I could when he started hitting me but we both knew no one would hear me over the sound of generators blaring. At some point, I stopped trying to fight back. When he realised I was too weak to move, he raped me. I don’t know how long I was out for but I know when I woke up, he was out of sight. Outside, I could hear someone moving around. My crying must have been loud because the woman I came to see opened the door. She rushed to my side and took me to her apartment where she cleaned me up before taking me home.
She didn’t ask any questions and I was grateful to see that my mum was not at home when we got there. I was glad she didn’t tell my mum what happened either. I couldn’t have been able to deal with the reactions that would have come out of it at the time. Tosin came over later that day to check on me as usual but I couldn’t talk to her. She kept pushing, asking me what was wrong and I snapped at her. I told her I didn’t want to be with her anymore and I hated what we were doing. I could see the confusion on her face as she walked out of my room. I was so scared that man would rape her too. In my head, the only way to prevent that was to stop doing what we were doing.
I blocked her everywhere and deleted everything that would remind me of her. I didn’t even pick her mother’s calls. I knew they were planning to move back to the UK later that year, so I convinced myself that I was doing the best thing for everyone.
Back in school, I returned to dating guys. I went back to my ex-boyfriend. This time, I was determined to feel something for him so I had sex with him. It was such an underwhelming experience for me but I kept trying. A few months later, Tosin’s mum called me. After deliberating for a few seconds, I picked up. She asked how I was doing and I said I was fine. She asked after my mum and siblings as well. Towards the end of the call, she told me that Tosin had died. I screamed. She said Tosin had been sick for a while — something about her heart. I cried so much that day. I thought of all the times she complained about her chest and I wished I urged her to take it seriously. I became even more depressed in the months that followed.
The idea that something wrong with me seeped into everything I did. I felt like if I could correct myself, everything would be fine. Every trail left me feeling worse. I had decided to take a break when I met Emily*. It was a new semester and she was my roommate in the room I was assigned to. She laughed at my jokes and liked to sit on my bed.
One day, she asked me if I liked girls. I was too tired to lie, so I said yes. She hugged me and invited me to hang out the following day. I went with her to a lounge where other girls who liked girls gathered. She introduced me to the group and they cooed a welcome. We spent the rest of the day, eating fries and chicken and gisting. On my way home, I remember telling myself, the jig is up, you are a lesbian. In that moment, I wished Tosin was alive so I could call her and apologize — tell her I know I love women and I love her. I cried all the way home.
Now I won’t say that accepting my sexuality has cured my depression but I know it’s made me a little lighter. I am even happier knowing there’s a lot of people like me who are done living in shame.
Outing a queer person without their consent especially in a country like Nigeria is one of the worst things you could do to a queer person. To the four people we spoke to in this story, they know too well that it is like to feel the fear of being outed before you feel ready and how it leaves you exposed to violence.
Pride to be Gay
Ben, 24.
Mine is kind of funny. You know how Twitter shows you your contacts that are available on the app? My brother saw my Twitter profile when he signed up for it. He started seeing my tweets talking about men and penis. He came up to me when I returned home from uni and asked me if this wasn’t my Twitter. I couldn’t even think, I said yes. Then he told our parents. My parents still look at me with disgust.
Ada, 27. My sister outed me. She caught me watching lesbian porn one day. Before I could say ‘Flash’ she had run to my mother. My mother on her part wasted no time descending on me. It was brutal. My family have spoken about it now and moved past the homophobia but that day, God I wanted to die.
Dare, 22.
A course mate of mine found my Twitter where even though I was using my name, I was using my photo and other identifiable things and I was very open about my sexuality. They told everyone in school, it was so awful. People started making very obscene jokes about me, people were very mean. It affected me and because I stopped going to classes often, it affected my grades for a long time. At some point, I just said fuck it and moved on with my life.
Chisom, 24. There was a boy I was talking to at some point but after a while, I lost interest. I had made the mistake of telling him I was bisexual before and when I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him, he went out of his way to tell everyone I was a lesbian. People were looking at me weird, some even came up to ask me. Luckily, I didn’t care about it all and kept telling them ‘yes’. Eventually, it became stale gossip.
Aaron, 27.
I got outed by someone I went to have sex with. When we met, things were going as expected. Then they went outside and came back with someone and started threatening me. He and his goon took my shoes, money, and took incriminating photos. They used the photos to blackmail for a long time. One day, I refused to budge and they sent it to my mother. My mother isn’t very open or progressive but seeing her child that vulnerable and hearing how I was blackmailed changed something her. She has accepted my sexuality now but I hate that it happened that way.
Matthew, 22. When I was in my teens, I was very religious and when I started going through puberty and realizing I wasn’t straight. I made the mistake of turning to our music director in the choir. He and I were close and he tried to be very fatherly towards us. The moment I said it, he started looking at me differently and I immediately regretted saying anything. A few days later, my mum called me to her room and asked me why I wanted to disgrace her by being choosing homosexuality. I was destroyed. I never looked at him the same and left the choir and church as soon as I could.
Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
Sex Lifeis an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.
The subject of today’s Sex Life is a 27-year gay man who has a reputation for being a player. He talks about how his reputation for sleeping around is affecting his sex life and making him rethink everything he has done.
What was your first sexual experience?
I was 16, and it was with a boy from church. We were at a teen camp and kept exchanging glances. One day, when a session was going on at the church, I returned to the hostel because I was tired. I saw him outside his hostel, and we got talking. After a while, I went to sit at his bedside, then he touched me and then it just happened.
The things that went down at those camps.
See. I later learned that things like that happen a lot. We kept in touch for a while before we drifted apart — we didn’t have much in common, so it was bound to happen. This experience woke up something in me.
How so?
I knew I was gay before that happened but I had never really considered a relationship or sex with a man because I come from a very religious family so I hadn’t thought of that possibility. Before the guy and I lost contact, he told me how queer people in Nigeria like us use the internet to identify ourselves. This was back when Facebook was everything- so it was basically Facebook groups and eventually WhatsApp group chats – that’s how I found queer people and started making friends. And eventually, lovers.
Lovers?
Yeah, I flirted with several people after a while and eventually hooked up with some people. Those were some of my hookups with people and learning about sex and gay sex in particular.
Around this period, I slept with a woman for the first and last time.
OH? How did that happen?
So there was a girl at school who was being very flirtatious with me. One day, she texted me to come over because no one was at home. I knew I was gay, but a part of me was curious about whether or not I was bisexual. However, I went because I could. So I did.
How was it?
Oh my God, it was horrible. I was having the sex and thinking to myself, ‘I am hundred per cent gay, wow.’
Lmao. What did that experience change in you?
Not much. It just made me realise I was gay all the way.
Most of these happened in your teens, right? What was your sex life in your twenties?
Wild. In my twenties, I lived alone and started living. There was a period I had sex almost every day. And on the weekends, I was going from one party to an orgy to a sex party. It was wild to think of. I don’t know if I was trying to compensate for something, but I did a madness that period.
What switched between your teens and twenties?
In my teens, I was just trying to connect with my community and find people like me. In my twenties, I was trying to find love, to be honest. Unfortunately, I wanted that love with everyone. I saw sex as a way to connect with people. That’s what sex is to me.
Did you find the love?
A few times. They ended for different reasons. But the most recent potential one ended in a way that made me regret my history.
How so?
I met someone on Twitter, and we started talking. We went out on a few dates, we even had sex and were getting serious. Then one day, he told me we needed to end the relationship because it wasn’t going to work out. Guess why?
I have no guesses. Tell me.
Once people found out he was with me, they told him to ‘run o’.
Why?
Because apparently, I am an ashawo, a ‘manizer’. It hurt me, but it wasn’t an isolated accident.
It’s happened before?
Yup. And after. Sometimes, people even told my platonic friends to be careful because of my reputation. It bugs me so much, but I understand it.
Why do you think people talk about you like that?
Because it’s the truth, to be honest. That’s kind of the worst part. I had a very sexually active early twenties, and it can be misconstrued as me just being a player. Most people don’t want to be what they probably consider ‘notches on your bed frame’ or an addition to your body count, and they don’t want that to happen to their friends, so they try to warn them. I know I would probably do the same. However, that doesn’t make it less frustrating.
Does it make you regret having the kind of sex life you had in your early twenties?
Yes and no. Life would be boring if you lived it without exploring. I explored people and did exciting things that taught me a lot. That said, I wish I hadn’t slept with everyone I could. If I had maybe held back here and there, my reputation would probably be better.
How has that affected your sex life?
People who know of me tend not to want to sleep with me. The ones who do, don’t want anything to do with me outside of sex which can be very frustrating. I’m trying to reduce how much casual sex I have so that I can hopefully fix my reputation before it’s too late.
Do you know what your body count is?
Nope. It has too many zeroes at this point. If I knew it, I would probably feel the need to get myself mentally checked.
Why do you think you had that much sex?
Because I could. I slept with everyone who would say yes. I like having sex, people wanted to have sex. So in my head, I’m like why not?
What’s your sex life like now?
I’ll always have an active sex life but now I’m applying more discretion to who I sleep with. I have a friend-with-benefits and that’s it. It’s easier to control the narrative when only one person sees your nakedness.
How would you rate your sex life on a scale of 1 to 10?
9. I’m having great sex regularly. What’s there to not to love? I just wish my sex history wasn’t negatively affecting my reputation and love life.
How easy or difficult is it to reconcile being queer with being religious, especially if the said religion is homophobic? This is something I have always been curious about, so I put out a call for stories. I got a large number of responses, but I had to narrow the final ones down to nine.
These 9 stories highlight the fears, difficulties, doubts and triumphs of being queer and religious in Nigeria. I am grateful to everyone who shared their stories. I hope these stories move you as much as they moved me.
Afusat.
*Image used for illustrative purposes.
I am a Muslim and my faith is a part of my identity just like my queerness is. I don’t think it would be fair to erase a part of myself for another part to ‘flourish’. There are times I feel anxious and sad but choosing to accept myself and trust Allah always makes me feel better. I am still a Muslim and I always want to be. I know that sometimes it may get difficult as there are people who use religion as an excuse to be homophobic, but I always remember that Allah is The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful, and The Most Loving. He created me so He must understand all my paths. Day by day, I am learning to love myself anew. I am hoping to make more queer friends because I think having a community really helps. I also want to be more involved with the Muslim community because it feels good to know that you are loved for who you are. I am hoping that more parents love their queer children. I have not told my parents yet. I don’t know if I will ever tell them. I just want to live my life truthfully every day no matter what that looks like.
Demola.
I’m Catholic, but I’m not religious. I go to church when I’m with my parents or when I absolutely have to. But if I had the power to choose, I wouldn’t even watch if it was online. So for me, this means that I pick certain things and leave the rest. The Catholic church doesn’t support abortion. I do. The Catholic church says no to divorce. I do. I believe in the presence of God, I just don’t follow the ways He’s being served.
I think I’ve always been aware of my queerness, but I have just come to the acceptance that I am a queer person who believes in God. I’m able to function with both. I pray when I can, I read my Bible. It wasn’t always like this though. When I was younger, I was active in church and reconciling faith with queerness was difficuIt. I felt like I was putting up a performance, and I would always beat myself up.
Now, I think I’m good. I don’t stress myself anymore. Anywhere belle face, we move. I am a bad bitch and I also believe in God. This life is one, please. I really like church though. The choir is beautiful. I love praise and worship. But I know how all of my work as a Christian and the things I’ve done in the church can change if they simply find out the tiniest detail about my sexuality. Sometimes, it’s a bit confusing, but it is what it is.
Ebenezer.
Reconciling my faith with my sexuality has gone through a series of evolution. In my teenage years, I thought I would get over it. This was when I was being taught that everyone has a cross to bear. I thought my sexuality was my own cross and that if I carried it well, I would be found worthy of God’s love. Then there was the time I thought celibacy was the answer. I saw celibacy as a middle ground between my sexuality and my faith. I thought I could be gay and still be a Christian, and that all I needed to do was to remain celibate.
*Image used for illustrative purposes.
I was the President of my campus fellowship for two years (300 and 400 level). Prior to the appointment, I had already taken the celibacy vow, and as someone who has never had sex with a guy before, I thought I could keep at it. It was during my time as a President of a fellowship that I began seeking answers for myself on how to navigate being gay and being a Christian. I came across a couple of books on this, and it made me know that the translation and interpretation of the bible are political and for the purpose of control. Now I don’t believe in the absoluteness of the bible. I don’t believe the Bible is perfect and that every scripture there was wholly inspired by God. Man will always filter the scripture through his own biases and people have been doing that for centuries. I don’t think the Holy Spirit wrote the Bible. I believe men did and men are flawed and short-sighted and will tend to infect the purity of God’s word with their own shortcomings and biases.
Now, my Christian faith is anchored on the two greatest commandments Christ gave which are “Love your God with all your heart” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” According to Christ, all other commandments are contained within these two. As a gay Christian, all I need to do is to walk in love.
I have fallen in love with a guy and there’s nothing purer than that and it will be a travesty to say that the love I feel for him is not of God because all the characteristics of love as contained in 1 Corinthians 13 are present in the love I feel for this guy. Even if I hadn’t fallen in love, I am made to know by the scriptures that I am wonderfully and fearfully made and that God saw my unformed body since when I was in the womb and all the days ordained for me does He know. I am of God and like I always say to myself, God cannot be boxed into a cage. He is the source of diversity because he is vast and beyond categories.
Grace.
I stopped going to my parents’ church in 2019 because there was so much misogyny and hatred for anyone they consider different from them. The doctrine was based on fear and paranoia and I wanted no part of it. It was around the same time I started questioning Christianity as a faith and the clear sexism and homophobia. I didn’t know how to reconcile it so I just stopped identifying as a Christian. Late last year, I went to my sister’s church and it was nice. Worship was great, I always cry during worship, I love it so much. So I’ve been going sometimes. Not every week, just when I feel like it.
But then some weeks ago, the pastor started talking about how the rainbow was God’s promise to the earth and that it doesn’t belong to the LGBTQ community. And then he said everybody should pray to push back “darkness” and I just sat there, confused and so hurt. To me, it’s like, you say that this god created me and he loves me right? But then you turn around and say I am of darkness because I like girls the same way I like boys? It made no sense. Everybody around me was speaking in tongues and screaming and I just sat there. So confused. I couldn’t even pray. Right now, I think I’m in limbo again, I don’t know if I can go back there.
Kazim.
I started easing into my sexuality around 2019. I grew up in a typical Muslim home so it was a really, really confusing period for me. My sexuality makes sense to me, my religion makes sense to me and I don’t think I can deny myself of who I am because of my religion neither do I think I can renounce my religion because of my sexuality. At first, this acceptance of myself was confusing because queerness is practically against all the teachings of my religion. A man is not supposed to lay with another man, blah blah blah but fuck it, I didn’t choose to be gay. Honestly, I feel like there’s something we’re not understanding about the whole concept of God Vs Sexuality. The doubts still creep in sometimes but all in all, I’ve found a way to juxtapose these two things and I have no problem whatsoever with either of them. For the time being, I’ll just be the gayest version of myself and live my life according to my principles. The afterlife will sort itself out.
*Image used for illustrative purposes.
Isaac.
Being gay and Christian can be hard, especially when your parents are ministers in the church and you are effeminate. It has affected my faith a lot; I feel God’s love and I know it for myself, but during devotions, sermons, I hear that I am going to hell and I doubt the love I feel for myself and begin to ask for forgiveness. It’s draining.
I told a couple of pastors and people that I was queer, the next thing I knew was that I become a project for them. They began to treat me like a special candidate and policed my life. Self-acceptance as a Christian is very hard. I love the Lord, and I believe that in the circle of life, there is no such thing as a mistake. If the Bible says I am fearfully and wonderfully made, then there is nothing any man says that will change that fact. My escape from all the troubles around me is worship. Difficult as it might be, I am not going to live in condemnation of what a person says and all the subtle homophobic slurs. I am a believer and that’s on period.
Seun.
Before I even knew or understood what being queer was, I had been told it was wrong and that all homosexuals would go to hell. Back then, it didn’t really bother me because I had no idea of my sexuality or sexuality in general. I was just a young child doing what he was told and following his parents to church. But then I turned 12 and I had a brief stint in school. I told my parents about it because I was scared and confused, and in response, they gave me a good lashing and told me to go to my room and pray to God for forgiveness. They also changed me from a boarder to a day student in a school closer to home so they could monitor me closely and so I wouldn’t be influenced by the “evil boys” from my last school.
In the years that followed till I got to int university at 17, it was a dark time for me and a constant battle with myself and the person I was told God wanted me to be which was a heterosexual man. During that period, I gave my life to Christ too many times, went on several fasts and prayers all on my own because I had no one to talk to about it. I couldn’t tell my parents because I knew they would make it worse and I had no siblings so it was just me, God, and my internalized homophobia. It was really tough, but I couldn’t even consider suicide because I was also told that those who did went to hell so that scared me off.
Eventually, I became certain about myself and my sexuality, but in return, I became agnostic because I came to believe that religion doesn’t care much for those who do not believe in it or who do not believe completely. Last year, during a church service in school, a girl came out to share her testimony of how she was delivered from being gay and that service was a lot. First, the chaplain stopped the service and made her the message for the day. He then called out to other people to come for prayers, and all it was just a whole lot to deal with. After that service, I started to get really depressed about my sexuality again. Corona happened and because of the lockdown, I had to stay in Lagos with my aunt and her family for a few months before I could go home to my parents.
Staying with my aunt’s family was good for me because even though they are Christians, they are liberal, different from the conservative Christians I have always known. They explained God to me in a different light and answered some of the questions I’ve had about religion. This made a huge difference for me because I was starting to resent the whole idea of God and religion. Now I’ve decided to believe in God for myself.
This has helped me a lot. Now, I am a lot more secure in myself and my sexuality. I know a lot of people would argue about it, but if God made me queer then He made no mistake beacuse He is incapable of making mistakes. He made me with love and I am a walking embodiment of that love.
I’m not saying everything’s fixed. No, it’s far from that. There are still some days when all the religious hate gets to me, and as much as I am secure in myself and my faith, I still have some questions I would like answers to. I know now that spirituality is a journey and through it all, I can rest assured that God loves me.
Chi-Chi.
I am a very spiritual person and I know God created man and woman, but I have refused to confront my queerness because I feel like I am scared of what I am going to discover. I have not gone to the Bible to conduct research on it or whatnot, but sometimes, I think about the “natural” order of things. If I eventually confront it and do my research, it’s either I realize that religion is a sham and what the Bible says is not a foolproof guide to living. I cannot do away with the Bible. It is impossible. I don’t want to let go of the faith I know and the God I recognise.
*Image used for illustrative purposes.
But then again, I cannot stop feeling how I feel towards girls, and this is something I did not choose. Something I cannot stop. When people say you choose to be this way, feel that way, I feel like they don’t completely get it. I don’t look at girls and tell myself, “Oya, start feeling something for her.”
And so, I keep pushing away this confrontation, and living in denial, running away from the reality that I feel how I feel and that I also love God. I am scared of what answers I might arrive at.
Lawrence.
I’ve been aware of my queerness as far back as JSS1, and it became clearer in secondary school. But as the awareness grew clearer, the Christian guilt got heavier on me. In university, my Christianity got stronger and each time I considered my sexuality, I felt the guilt weigh me down. Each time I tried to become closer to God, queerness felt like the hindering block to attaining that level of spirituality. I always felt incomplete, lacking one last quality that would never go away.
In my final year, I had sex with someone and the guilt was so strong I never spoke to the person again, neither did I try to interact with any queer person. For like 7 years, I tried to live a ‘straight’ life. I refused to have sex or have any interaction with queerness. But throughout this time, the queerness was undeniably present. I just did not give it a voice or act on it. I wished it away, suppressed it, and let the guilt eat me up. My spirituality and my queerness felt like opposites. At one point, I wanted to stop being a Christian, but I did not know how to not be a Christian. It was too ingrained in my life.
My liberation came when it dawned on me one day that God actually loves me and He hasn’t given me any reason to think that He doesn’t love me or has stopped loving me. That was the switch that flipped: becoming aware of God’s love for me and basking in it. As I became more comfortable, the burden of guilt reduced.
This doesn’t mean that it’s completely gone though. It resurfaces once in a while. But I am refusing to let it have another hold on me. Seven years after suppressing my queerness to feel complete and acceptable to God, I vocally admitted it to someone, “Yes, I am gay”, and saying it for the first time, I felt no shame or guilt. Instead, I felt loved, whole.
Pride month is gay Christmas that lasts longer than regular Christmas. This pride, here are few tips on how to be a better friend and ally to your queer friend.
1. Send them money
Times are tuff, sapa left and right. What better way to support your queer friend? Empty your bank account dear, especially if you have pounds. That one is highly essential.
2.Check on their mental health
Don’t be this person
They deal with so much bullshit living in this country and no one should have to go through all that, to be honest. Be a good friend, check up on them and just listen sometimes.
Pins, totes, shoes, clothes, straps, yes dear all the works. Buy it.
4. Affirm their pronouns and correct people who dead name them
Not just during pride month, of course. Do better by your trans/ non-binary friends, please. Correct people who deadname them even if they are not present. It’s really not as hard as you think.
5. Buy them a ticket to another country
This is very important. You might have to sell your father’s car, your mother’s favourite gold chain or even empty your piggyvest, but it’ll be worth it when you see them flourish in a country that isn’t trying to kill them.
6. Lend your voice in asking the government to repeal the SSMPA
The SSMPA has hurt so many queer people and set us back, but not for long. Lend your voice, protest with them, sign petitions, trend their hashtags. #RepealSSMPA.
7. Share your Netflix password so they can watch their favourite queer shows
Give them your password so they can watch their fave queer shows this month and experience queer joy.
8. Don’t speak over them when it comes to queer issues
Not just during pride month, of course. Remember to do this always. When it comes to queer issues, your voice shouldn’t be louder than theirs since you don’t experience it first hand. Learn to take a step back and listen sometimes. E get why. Please it’s pride month, let’s not fight.
9. Send more money
Open your pocket, your purse and your bank account! I can’t stress this enough.
What’s dating a man like when you are also dating women? In this article, nine Nigerian women talk about dating men vs dating women.
Ini, 31
The first thing I noticed when I started dating women was how quickly we moved from talking stage to saying I love you. With women, it’s easier to put your cards on the table. With guys, we would go from the talking stage to guessing games, back to talking stage. Another difference is that with women, I don’t feel like anybody is waiting for the other person to make the first move.
During sex, women either know what they’re doing or are willing to learn and eager to please. You know they’re paying attention to your body. Every time I have sex with a woman, she’s constantly checking to make sure I’m okay and present. Finally, there’s a tenderness that comes with dating women that I don’t think I ever experienced with men.
Aduke, 23
Dating men is easier, but it’s not a better experience. I say it easier because men are cheap to be with. I don’t have to put in a lot of effort when I’m interested in a guy. With women, it’s completely different — I’m way more empathetic and considerate. Also, men are clingier than women but women are better listeners. Women have hurt me more, but it’s still women over men any day.
Aisha, 31
Dating women is way more awesome. Women have been more courteous and considerate to me. For example, no woman has ever just called me randomly on the talking stage. They always ask first, and I’d have to consent to it before they call. It makes me feel valued as a human being with emotions and choices. Men would just call. Some were even as bold as video calling without agreeing on a time with me. I find it creepy and inconsiderate. The worst incident was a man suggesting he come over to my place after just a few hours of meeting — a huge turn-off. Women extend the consideration I automatically extend to others. With men, dating feels like a chore.
Obehi, 35
I dated men briefly because society made it seem like I was supposed to. I wouldn’t do it again. At the time, I already knew I was a lesbian but it was not safe for me to be myself. I found dating men reduced my capacity to be myself. Too many things I love about myself had to be negotiated away or silenced for his ego or for the onlookers. My relationships with women have been and remain the most empowering, growth-filled spaces. Even in adversity, my partners and I have an unmatched level of emotional intelligence. We vibe, we encourage each other’s growth, we work well on projects together and individually.
Though I tend to avoid conflict, the women I have been with have made me feel safe to speak up. Finally, the sex is reciprocal and intimate. We cum as many times as we can handle.
Teju, 23
I prefer dating women to men. Women are more in tune with their emotions and I like that. I’m currently dating a man — I told him I am polyamorous from the beginning, and he said he was cool with it. But as time has passed, it is becoming more of a problem. My ex-girlfriend was more understanding about it.
Chioma, 21
I dated a stud and it was tough for me because sometimes, I felt like I was dating a man — she had this constant need to show strength; it was exhausting. The soft sweet side of her that I wanted wasn’t what I got.
I’ve also realised both men and women lie and cheat. I thought sapphic relationships were different, but in my experience, it was pretty much the same.
I can say for sure that dating women is better than dating men. With men, you need to know how to play games. You can’t just let your guard down because vulnerability is seen as stupidity. You need to follow all sorts of rules, but when it’s me and my woman, I can fully express how I feel without being seen as hysterical.
Also, women understand more that vaginas are not one size fits all.
Amaka, 29
I prefer to date women because they are more empathetic. Sex with them is better as well. Women are more expressive, so I don’t have to do guesswork throughout the relationship. We have better conversations, and I get to know them faster. In my experience, men lie too much. I am not saying women don’t lie, but I haven’t caught them, so no face no case.
Temi, 25
I would say being with women is more stressful for me. One woman was trying to get with me aggressively but stopped because she thought I was a baby gay. Another one wanted to cheat on her girlfriend with me. I almost gave in, but nothing physical happened and I ended up getting closer to her girlfriend. Last year, I was seeing this woman who was after my pocket. She always asked when I would take her out on a date or buy her stuff. I found it distasteful.
But guys are also stressful. I was seeing this guy who had just moved to Lagos but then work made him move to the UK. He said he couldn’t do long distance and that was annoying to me because he knew he was going to move so why stress me? Long story short, people are stressful.
