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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.
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.
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?
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 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.
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.
As a lesbian navigating the complicated experience that is queer dating in Nigeria, if you go into it with expectations based on what you see in any form of media you consume, it will end in tears. But, because we care about you, here are the realities of dating as a lesbian.
1. Double wardrobe, more fun outfits to try
Expectations: You guys will love each other’s sense of style and wear each other’s clothes, especially if you live together.
Reality: One of you will have fewer clothes before the relationship ends. Also, you’ll likely find her sleeping in your T-shirt you only wear on special occasions or stealing your socks. Be prepared for annoying behaviour.
2. She’ll move in with you and it will be fun
Expectations: You’ll adopt or buy a cat, make breakfast for each other and will barely fight or argue.
Reality: Like every normal human being, you’ll argue sometimes. Being a lesbian doesn’t cancel our arguments. Sharing a pet is hard, especially if you guys break up. Also, living with someone — a lover or not — can be exhausting. Maybe don’t do that?
3. Her friends will become your friends
Expectation: if her friend group is exclusively queer, they’d all automatically be friends with you.
Reality: They probably won’t even like you, but who knows why? Especially if one of them has had a crush on her for a while. Good luck. Be friendly, but always remember that they are her friends first.
4. Your partner will care for you when you get your period
Expectation: when you get your period, your partner will pamper you and make you tea and give you belly rubs.
Reality: your partner may want to do all that but your periods will probably sync up, so now the both of you will cry together. Good luck.
5. Unlimited orgasms
Expectations: You’ll orgasm 24 times in 24 hours every day of the week.
Reality: you and your partner are not rabbits, please. And even God rested on the seventh day. Don’t you have work? Do you want to die? If you get 24 orgasms in one day from one person, report the person to the police for attempted murder.
6. They know how to treat women because they are women
Expectation: your partner will reply to all your texts, be able to read your mind, be overly romantic.
Reality: it’s not a packed deal that comes with being a lesbian. They can be assholes, too. Being a woman doesn’t make you an expert on women’s affairs.
Wherever one or two queer friends are gathered, you’d find at least four of these people in their midst. It’s almost like they can’t survive without each other, and it’s cute to see. Every queer friend group/chosen family has one of these people.
1. The athletic cat mom lesbian
They behave like those house masters in secondary school that make you do exercises by 4 am. But they’re also so sweet and are usually the moms of the group. When they aren’t busy helping you fix shit, they’re taking pictures of their cats.
2. The asexual bookworm friend with the worst sex jokes
These ones have the nastiest sex jokes you’ll ever hear. They flirt so much, you either catch feelings or want to deck them. They should do a master class sha — asking for a friend. They also give the best book recommendations because they’d read anything.
3. The super chill bisexual that loves plants
This person doesn’t send anybody. They just wear their bralette and jeans and smoke or take care of their plants when they’re stressed — nevermind that most of these plants die. They don’t chase, they attract, and we can only perspire to aspire…
4. The soft enby
All they do is send TikToks and memes to their friends every day, take one picture a month and use it as their profile picture everywhere and be broke. They are the most unproblematic friends.
5. The Shane wannabe that is a musician
This person watched “The L word” once and stole Shane’s entire personality. Get in a stable relationship? Why would they do that? What will they sing about? If they are not busy breaking someone’s heart, they won’t be happy. If you date this person, then you enjoy crying and you might as well date an onion (an onion that is good at hot fok sha). They’re just lucky that they’re unusually the kindest people you’ll ever meet.
6. The cute couple
You’re either jealous or sick of their shit, and even then, you secretly love to see them loved up. They behave like an old married couple, and if they didn’t live in Nigeria with strict parents, they’d have already moved in together.
7. The visibly queer friend
If you don’t know who this is in your friend group, it’s you. There is no one way to look queer, but these guys come close to having “the look.” They usually have the best style, they’re usually the artsiest people in the friend group and they can’t sit “straight”. If they could, they’d wear the pride flag as clothes.
8. The child
The youngest in the friend group who is everyone’s baby. Everyone always checks up on them and instantly becomes a Nigerian parent — gentle parent edition — whenever they’re around
. If you enjoyed this, you’d definitely love our Rainbow stack
In October, a video where a man was physically abusing his daughter for being a lesbian went viral. This was just one of the examples of the kinds of violence queer women in Nigeria face. In an inclusive study conducted by The Initiative for Equal Rights on violence against women in Nigeria, it was found that queer women are at a higher risk of experiencing violence in Nigeria without any real chance at legal redress. In this article, six Nigerian women talk about the violence they experienced because they are queer.
Ayomide, 25
When I was in secondary school, senior girls would call other girls that looked like me to their rooms and punish us. . They called us blokes, masculine-presenting girls and we had a rule book that said we had to wear BYC singlets, sag our pants and do other silly things. The seniors would inspect us every week. If we followed the rules, they punished us. If we didn’t, they still punished us.
There were a lot of rumours about me being a lesbian in secondary school which got me in trouble with senior students. I didn’t get suspended like some of the other girls because they never caught doing stuff with girls, but I always got in trouble. When I got older, I realised that this is how the world treats masculine-presenting people.
Sophie, 31
In February 2021, I posted a video on Tiktok about liking women and a faceless user left a comment saying that they’d rape me. It shook me. I deleted the reply and blocked them, but I haven’t forgotten.
Jane, 22
During the EndSARs protest, queer people waved the rainbow flag and that caused a lot of violence targeted against queer people online. One popular Twitter user said we were trying to hijack the protest and many other things. I quoted the tweet telling other queer people to ignore it. She replied to the tweet, and after a couple of back and forth tweets to each other, she called me a nobody whose whole life revolves around being queer. It was a homophobic dog whistle. A lot of people engaged the tweet with homophobic stuff directed at me. I tried to fight back but I was scared that someone would recognise me and out me to my parents. I locked my account the next day and I haven’t unlocked it since then.
Jumoke, 26
In 2014, I wanted to explore my sexuality. I met this girl, Janet, on Badoo. She was nice. We texted for a couple of weeks before we started dating. There were no video calls then so we were always texting. In the third month of our relationship, she said she was travelling to Dubai for work and wasn’t sure when she’d be back;she wanted to see me before she left. I told her I didn’t have money and she said she would sponsor the trip.
I left Warri for Lagos the next day. She told me she would pick me up from the park at Ikotun. When I got to the park and called her, she said she couldn’t come to meet me because she was packing but she would send her brothers. Although I felt something was wrong, I wanted to see it through. I followed her brothers to a house somewhere in Lagos. It was dark inside. I was talking to Janet on the phone. She asked me to sit outside and wait for her.
Around 9 o’ clock , I called her; I heard the phone ringing in the compound and when she picked, I realised it was one of the guys mimicking a girl’s voice. Everything changed instantly. All the boys started beating me. They showed me my nudes and said they were going to report me to the police. They said as big as my bum bum is, it’s women I like. They collected all the money I had with me.
They wanted to rape me, but I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I could tell that they didn’t want me to bring attention to them. Then they threatened to kill me, but I stood my ground.
I noticed the door was open, and at some point, I ran out of the house. They pursued me, but they couldn’t chase after me because they were afraid they would draw attention. I escaped to a provision store and asked the woman there for a phone. The guys felt like I was reporting them, so they ran away. I called my friend who came to pick me up. I didn’t tell him what happened. The next day, I went to my grandma’s place. My grandma gave me money to go back to school. I didn’t talk about it for four years. Till now, when I meet women that like me online, I am skeptical about them.
Oyin, 21
A year after I got into the university, I met Halima. She lived in the same estate as I did. We liked each other and spent a lot of time together. One day in 2018, before I went back to school, she kissed me and that’s how we started dating. She liked to touch and kiss me while we took our evening walks. I was always worried that someone would see us.
One day, after she kissed me, a man walked past us. I hadn’t realized that he was following us but I knew he saw us. 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 one of the apartments in 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. 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 buy pap from opened the door. She rushed to my side and took me to her apartment where she cleaned me up before taking me home. 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 until 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. I blocked her everywhere and deleted everything that would remind me of her. Till today, I hate that I did that to us but in my head, it was the only way to prevent her from getting hurt.
Bibi, 28
In 2016, a friend I considered a big brother invited me to a bachelor party. It was a weird party — there were a lot of naked women and men touching them. There was also cake, and I ate some. I didn’t know there was weed in the cake, so when I started feeling high, I was surprised because I didn’t drink. When the party dispersed around 3 am, I tried to sleep off my high on the couch. My “friend” woke me up and said I could stay in one of the bedrooms.
One of the strippers had just finished having sex with the groom-to- be in the room my friend led me to. They were laying on the bed. I was too high to think too much about anything so I lay down. My friend lay behind me. The groom moved closer to us and kissed me. I pulled away but he started to touch me. I took his hands off and he complained to my friend I don’t want to play with him. My friend then proceeded to hold me down while the groom took off my jumpsuit. None of my pleas was heard. My friend told the groom that I’m bisexual, so they asked the stripper to touch me. I can’t count how many times I said no but no one listened. The stripper held my hands and my friend held my legs so the groom could have sex with me. When he noticed I wasn’t interested, he stopped. My friend tried his luck too. I said no and curled up in a foetal position till the day was bright. I still went to the wedding the next day but I haven’t spoken to any of them since then.
Being a bisexual man in Nigeria opens you up to many questions and emotions. Some of these questions are internal ruminations interrogating who you are and what you want, while others come from a society that views your existence as the inability to make a “choice”. We spoke to five bisexual men about discovering their sexuality.
Tayo, 29
So the interesting thing is, while I had always found men attractive, I’d only dated girls. Having a thing for men in Nigeria is not only “shameful”, it’s very dangerous. Like, lose-your-life level of danger. Knowing this, I pushed my attraction down for the longest time because I was scared. However, in 2012, out of boredom and having met a couple of queer guys, I went on the gay hookup site Grindr. I found a guy, invited him over, and we had sex. Even though it was confusing and chaotic the first time, I really enjoyed it. I didn’t want to hook up with the queer guys I knew because what if I was wrong or things got messed up? Anyway, I have a girlfriend now, but I’m still trying to muster up the courage to tell her. I’m scared she’d either think I’m gay or that I just want to be sleeping with everyone. Women are already scared you might cheat on them with other women — imagine adding men to the mix.
Brian, 25
I like to say I knew I liked boys from the day I was born. The first person I ever found attractive in primary school was a boy, and it had always been that way up until my final year of university when I came out to a couple of people that I was gay. But in my final year, I realized I had a thing for this girl I used to have study sessions with. I told myself I liked her in a “Hey girlfriend!” way, but I found myself thinking of her and jerking off. . I finally told her how I felt. She liked me too, so we hooked up. It was great and we continued for like a year after school. These days, I hook up with both men and women, sometimes at the same time. It took me a while to tell my gay day ones sha, because in some way, it felt like a betrayal to the gay community, like I wasn’t part of the inner circle anymore. It stings that I can’t connect with them about this part of my life, but they are doing their best and I accept that. Hopefully, with time, they’ll get it. But until then, I’m living my life to the fullest. bi and proud!
Josh, 28
I found out I was bi after I got invited into someone’s marriage by way of a threesome. So I had been hooking up with the wife because they had an open thing, but I never really knew what her husband looked like because we were trying to keep things as casual as possible. On the day, she invited me over and her husband was there. I had never hooked up with a guy or described a guy as sexy until I met this man with his salt and pepper beard. After a couple of drinks, we got into it and I f*cked both of them. I was already a very sexual person before my first experience, so I figured if I was a hoe with women, why couldn’t I be a hoe with men? People think bisexual women are intriguing but when it’s men, they must be confused? Me, I don’t care. I still meet up with the couple once in a while; sounds cliché, but they opened my eyes to what I’d been missing.
[newsletter]
Uche, 25
People think bisexual men are greedy sluts, men going through a phase, or men with internalized homophobia. I believe all these assumptions are bloody lies. Why? I’m none of those things. I even wish I had the energy to actually be slutty. I don’t know how I knew, but I’d always felt an attraction to both sexes. Typically, as a Nigerian, my first relationship was with a lovely girl. It was good and we were happy. After that, I dated another girl before I relocated to the UK and found my current boyfriend. A lot of people assume I only started dating a guy because I moved to London. Well, yes and no. Yes, because here I can hold my man’s hand and go grab coffee. And no, because I had always found men attractive, I just didn’t find one willing to commit openly back in Nigeria. I also wasn’t ready to date someone in secret, if I love you, I want to love you loudly and freely.
Olusola, 22
I had always thought I was gay. Because I had a preference for men, I did my best to invalidate my attraction toward women. I thought I was losing my “gayness” and conforming to society. I felt like I had to pick one because it didn’t occur to me for a very long time that I’m just bi. I’m a virgin so I haven’t exactly had penetrative sex with either of the two, but I don’t think sex validates attraction. I’m also tired of the questions: “Are you more into men than women?”; “Who will you end up with?”; “Is it a phase?”; and my personal favorite, “Are you sure you’re not gay and in denial?”. My answer to all of these questions is that my life is nobody’s business.
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.
Sometimes, when you finally accept your sexuality as a queer Nigerian, you may not know what to do. So, these six queer Nigerians give advice to newer queer people.
Promise
You don’t have to label yourself. Be patient with yourself, love yourself and know that whatever you are, you deserve love and acceptance.
Doyin
You don’t have to come out until you are ready. The world is wicked enough to queer people. You should only do it when you are ready. When you eventually do, be ready to lose a lot of friends and family. Don’t be too worried about that, because you will find many many more that love and accept you as you are.
Temi
Your identity doesn’t have to fit in a single label. You’re still bisexual if you haven’t had sex or been in a relationship with anyone. Your labels and identities can change and that’s okay. You are queer enough.
Ose
Take it easy on yourself. Things are meant to be figured out, don’t rush your process. The world, especially Africa and the media will say so many things that probably will make you hate what you’re feeling, and in turn, hate yourself. Don’t play into that. You and your feelings are as normal as the person next to you. You’re valid.
Everyone who has embraced their sexuality had to figure it out one way or the other. Everyone’s process is different. Don’t rush it or beat yourself up because you’re not where others are in their journey. You owe yourself love regardless of your sexuality. Self-love, love from friends who love you, love from someone who makes you feel over the moon. You deserve love.
Curate your social media as well. The content you digest matters a lot too. Taking in homophobic content 24/7 or straight people drama will definitely not be helpful. Curating makes sure there’s enough queer content to counter the negativity. Trust me, it is very important.
Ama
I think that’s it’s important for everyone struggling or questioning their sexuality to know that you don’t have to be what society or your parents say you should be. You don’t have to label yourself. Be patient with yourself, love yourself and know that whatever you are, you deserve love and acceptance.
I learned this later in life and I regret repressing my sexuality for so long because when I finally decided to live as authentically I realized I have never felt as free and as true as I am living my truth. It took 8 years and lots of hating myself and others but here I am.
I feel seen, I feel loved, I feel true and that can never be bought or repressed. Be brave. Be loud. Be true.
Peace
I know this is really really hard, but only surround yourself self with people that are either queer or people that don’t have homophobic thoughts towards queerness. When you surround yourself with people that make it comfortable to be yourself, there’s less need or want for you to shrink or try to fit in. It wouldn’t matter and it sort of reshapes how you see yourself.
Love yourself so much without needing any validation and slowly it reflects on how you think. You begin to realize you coming out is not so anyone to accepts you, because you don’t need acceptance. You’ve accepted yourself. It’s just to let people know how to address you without assuming. It takes a shit load of work, but it’s the best bet at finding peace within yourself. Also, understand whatever you identify with at the end of the day is valid.
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.
Lesbian Visibility week started on April 26th. It is a week set aside to celebrate lesbians around the world. Being a lesbian in Nigeria sometimes involves listening to people volunteering their assumptions about lesbians. In this article, I asked 7 Nigerian lesbians the funniest misconception of lesbians they’ve heard. Here’s what they had to say:
Dinma, 27
The one I keep hearing is that I hate men. They also say I have never had a good fuck from a good dick. One has even suggested that I should be have threesomes with men to enjoy sex better because there’s no sex without dick. Another person said it’s marine spirit that possessed me.
Nkay, 24
The funniest thing I’ve heard is that I’m practicing lesbianism. A practice, LMAO!
Titi, 27
My ex boyfriend asked if it’s because he impregnated someone else that I became a lesbian. One man was trying to convince me to have sex with him by saying that if I had sex with him, it won’t stop me from being a lesbian.
Cynthia, 30
One man once told me that I have not had sex with a man I truly connected with that’s why I am a lesbian. He said I should keep trying until I learn to love it. LOL.
Oby, 25
My mom used to say lesbians have sex with tools. This means there is a special place in hell for us.
Nike, 19
My friends used to say a woman can’t give me what I need in life. I don’t even know what means. What do they think I need and why do they think they are the ones who know it better? One time, one of them asked me why I was depriving myself of a good life? LOL
Simi, 22
The funniest thing I have heard is that too many men must have broken my heart and that is why I am gay. I laughed when they said it.
Vee, 20
I was 18 when my mum outed me to my dad. He told me that lesbians never make it in life. I said, “What about Ellen Degeneres?” He said it’s because she’s white. My aunt said lesbians get mouth cancer because they are always eating pussy. Omo, I couldn’t talk.
There are not many feelings in the world that match the realization of ones queerness. These six Nigerian women share when they knew they were queer.
Anita, 24
I went to one of those private catholic girls secondary schools in Abuja. In JS 1, during our visiting day, some boys came from the neighbouring “brother” school. For some reason, I couldn’t understand why all the girls were excited. These guys look like they hadn’t showered in days with their unmoistured feet. Fast forward to two very close “friends” later, I understood why. So, I guess I realised I was queer in JS1.
Funke, 20
I have always known I liked boys. So when I also started developing feelings for girls, I got confused. One day while I was still in secondary school, I was watching a movie on my brother’s laptop. The main character was a woman who had a girlfriend and also had a boyfriend. Before then, I had thought you either had to like men or like women. It was the first time I was hearing the word bisexual being used. I never knew it was possible to like both, and it was very affirming.
Zahra, 29
I knew I liked women even before I was 10. But society says it’s man and woman so I always felt I was weird and alone. For so many years, I lived my life thinking I was an alien. I didn’t know there was a name for who I was until about 13 or 14. I heard it from a boy, and I was so excited I started asking numerous questions about my new “Human Identity”. The boy was also eager to fill me in. All I wanted was to know that I’m normal and sane. Then I became more confident and decisive. It’s been a great ride, now we’re only waiting for that repeal to happen.
Adaeze, 23
It was in a threesome with this girl and her boyfriend. When I touched her, it was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and that was when the questioning began. The thing is, I used to feel attracted to women, but I thought all women felt it too. I had a roommate who I used to flirt with back then, but nothing serious ever happened. That threesome, however, was different. The self-acceptance didn’t come until much later. I haven’t been with anyone since then. I feel like if a woman decides to actually like me in a romantic way, I might explode from all this fire inside me.
I knew I liked women in SS1, but I don’t think I ever considered myself queer until my second year in university. In my second year, I was having an internal issue on whether I even liked men and didn’t tell anyone about it. Around that time, I made a new friend who would not stop calling me gay as a joke. At a point, I realised she was right. I am gay.
Tito, 19
I think I kind of knew when I was as little as 8 years old. I always wanted the female characters in the movie to kiss, and I used to guess which male characters liked other men. The thing was, I did not even think it was something I was supposed to see as bad until I went to secondary school and they started talking about it. I was in my first year of University when my mummy told me that one of my cousins in the USA had gotten married to his boyfriend. I was so excited for him, and so I reached out to him through Facebook. We started talking and I guess that helped me figure it out. I listened to the way he spoke about his husband, and I wanted something like that. I knew I would not get that by marrying a man.
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Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
Audio: Becoming Best Friends Helped Us Stay Together
Jennifer, 28 and Emem, 26, have been dating for eight months. In today’s episode of Love Life, they talk about navigating a lesbian relationship in Nigeria and learning to work together as business partners.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Jennifer: I was walking back from the gate after seeing my friend off. I saw her from a distance. It was dark, but she looked lovely. She was smiling so much that I knew she was going to speak to me, and she did.
Emem: That day, as I saw her walking towards me, I was like OMG! Who be this fine babe? My friends and I were at a party within the neighbourhood. The party was fizzling out, so my friends and I sat outside beside a car. I spoke to her when she came close and invited her in, but she said she had friends waiting for her and had to let them know where she was going.
I saw her again when the party ended as I was walking home. She was standing by herself, so I sharply asked for her number. I told her she better respond to me when I message her. She wondered why I thought she wouldn’t respond to me, and I said I know fine girls don’t talk to people. She promised she’d respond, and we parted ways. The next day by 6 a.m., I texted her and guess what? She didn’t reply. I had to keep bothering her.
Jennifer: LMAO. I remember the next day when I woke up, and saw her text on WhatsApp at 6 a.m. I was like, who messages anybody at 6 a.m.? I don’t like people disturbing me in the morning, so I thought this girl will be a nuisance.
She called me later that day; I picked by mistake, so I had to talk to her. We spoke, and I liked her, but it was awkward I kept thinking, a tomboy is asking me out. I kept the conversation short and ended the call fast. I didn’t talk to her for a few days, even though she was texting me.
One day, I was at the salon fixing my nails when her messages kept buzzing my phone. Again, I mistakenly opened it, and had to reply because I didn’t want to be rude. I saw that they were long messages, so I sent her a video of the technician fixing my nails and told her I would text her when I was done. She said we should hang out. That’s how she seized me. That day we hung out is the day we started dating.
Emem: When we saw, I just said, you know you are my girlfriend now, right? It was so easy, LOL.
Emem: The relationship has been amazing. We’ve had ups and downs, especially because we are both girls. I let her have way every time because I am the man in the relationship. I hate it, but it’s more peaceful when I do. I prefer it that way because I don’t want to lose her. One day, I will catch her, and everything will go my way. Jennifer is a fucking handful, but she does everything for me, so that part is great.
Jennifer: It’s been challenging because of how people perceive us when they see us. Emem is masculine-presenting, so it’s easy to tell that we are a couple in public. We either get admiration or judgemental stares from people.
Emem: Yup, they look at us like we are supposed to be afraid of them. I challenge them in my head like come and beat us now. But at the beginning of our relationship, it wasn’t easy for Jennifer. I have always accepted myself as I am, and everyone around me, including my family, knows it. For Jennifer, it was new.
There are times where Jennifer would be cranky and upset, but she can’t tell me what’s wrong because she didn’t want me to feel like she doesn’t want the relationship anymore. She eventually told me how she had to battle with her family and her friends. She knew she would lose people because she is dating me. But she wanted to be with me, and that’s also why I stayed. I could have left because there are other girls, I didn’t want to be with someone who would be unhappy, and I would blame myself for it. She got over it, though.
Jennifer: It was terrible because I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I met her. What started as a joke started getting serious, and I was scared. I was thinking of how my parents, siblings, friends, and cousins would take it. I’m from a very strict home, and I didn’t want to ‘shame’ the family. So there were days I spent just crying, unable to do anything else. I was thinking, why do I have to explain my love to anybody? Emem would sit beside me helplessly. I felt terrible for making her feel bad, but I think I had to go through all that to get here. Also, I think the fact that we became each other’s best friends helped us stay together. We would fight over the littlest and silliest things but also laugh over those things. That helped our bond and helped us overcome the societal pressure of being in the relationship.
So how are things now?
Jennifer: Sofar, my siblings are in love with Emem. Funny enough, they already knew who I was before I told them. In secondary school, I always had pictures of studs on my phone. I would make them my wallpaper, but I didn’t think much of it. So when I told my sisters, they were not surprised. My mum knows Emem as my friend. She comes to my house often, and they exchange pleasantries. My family is always pointing out how we look alike.
What’s the best part of the relationship?
Emem: Food! She cooks for me every time.
Even if I’m hungry at 12, Jennifer would get up to cook for me. It blows my mind how much she cares about me. With her, I’m free — I could be anything with Jennifer. I love that she trusts me, and no matter what anyone says, she would talk to me first. It’s that bond for me.
Jennifer: The best part for me is having the best friend I can be intimate with.
Emem: We run businesses together. There was this time we fought for two weeks straight because we couldn’t understand each other. We are two different people, so it took a while to navigate. I am pretty stubborn so getting me to be on the same page with her was difficult. She was so angry at how I was handling things. I thought we would break up, but eventually, we got through it.
Jennifer: I didn’t think we were going to make it too. I broke up with her twice during that period. I don’t think we sat down to resolve it. It just passed. Emem found a way to let me do things the way I wanted. When I do, and it doesn’t work, then we can talk about it. These fights were about decision making in our business. Emem is slow and steady; I’m not that patient. Also, we figured that we never came up with solutions when we fought.
Emem: Yeah! So we decided that we must talk about every fight. She tells me, hey, I’m upset, and I promise not to do it again. Jennifer’s head is very hot, so you have to let her have her way.
What is your favourite thing about each other?
Jennifer: She’s kind. That’s one of the things that pulled me to her. You would never hear Emem say anything bad about another person. She is tough on the outside, but she does that to shield her softness. My favourite thing is that I am the only one who gets to see that part of her— she can be mean to everybody and nice to me.
Emem: She knows how to love. She makes everything easy for me. She reminds me every day that she is on my side. On Saturday, I went to play soccer, and I won a medal. Jennifer hangs it beside her bed so she can look at it every day. I don’t deserve her love, but I’m grateful. She is interested in my well-being. She’s the sweetest woman ever.
Rate your relationship on a scale of 1 to 10
Emem: 10!
Jennifer: Yes, 10! I am so here for this love. We have regular relationship issues, but most times, we’re goofy.
Emem: Plus, we wake up beside each other every day, and it’s just so beautiful.
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Being queer opens you up to many forms of abuse or intrusion into your personal life. For many queer people, one of the more irritating things that happen when you are queer and straight people know that, is the way they ask or say very vulgar and uncomfortable questions and statements.
Today, we asked six queer people what some of the most annoying things they’ve had non-queer people say to them.
Chika, 29. Straight men are creepy! Whenever I meet one and tell them that I’m pansexual their reaction almost always falls into two categories: do you know someone who would be interested in a threesome? – which is offensive because they already assume I automatically want to sleep with them and even be in a threesome – or that if I sleep with them I’ll never go back to women. It’s so vulgar and insulting.
Kaylee, 25. As a gay person, I hate hearing that “I’m not homophobic sha but I’ll make sure that my children don’t become gay” rubbish or the whole “gay people shouldn’t be around children” like we’re paedophiles or the thing where straight girls act like queer women are automatically attracted to every female that exists and that we’re violating them by just having asexuality.
Harry, 22. As a queer person I am tired of hearing ” who is the man or woman”, “are you going to get married to a lady in the future” “how would you give birth”, “when will you stop.” It’s so funny that these questions even come from certain straight friends all when you try to come out or talk about your sexuality, well which I now know to never do again.
Lincoln, 28. I think it’s the people that keep using the fact that the anti-gay law exists as their argument for why being gay is bad. They’re always like, “It’s a crime in Nigeria. So whatever you see, take it like that” which is insane because what Hitler was doing to the Jews during WWII was “legal” then so what the fuck are you saying? I hope they all catch fire when next they go out in the sun.
Linda, 21. I feel like the quality of my life would increase if I never hear religious people say ‘we all sin differently’ or ‘God loves you regardless’. Those are very patronising and insulting things to say especially when no one asked you for it. My sexuality isn’t a sin, at least to me, if it is to you then keep it to you. It’s that simple.
Ayo, 24. “Is (insert person’s name) also gay?”
Please how would I know? Do I look like a glossary for gay people? Even if I know, why would I tell you? I need straight people to stop asking queer people if someone is gay. It’s not my information to disclose and it’s frankly a very annoying question.
“When did you find out?”
I don’t know. When did you find out you’re straight? It’s like straight is synonymous with stupid questions. Let them find out you’re not straight, you become a test subject to them. All of a sudden they have one million questions (which frankly doesn’t concern them) they want to ask.
Names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
Love Lifeis a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
Love Life: I Moved To Nigeria To Be With Her
Bibi, 33, and Kelly, 27, have been dating for about four years. In today’s episode of Love Life, they talk about how they met online and transitioned from a long-distance relationship to a live-in couple.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Kelly: I think mine is the first time we had drinks at a hotel in Dubai. I can’t forget it. Babe opened the champagne as we looked at each other. I was thinking, “OMG, we are actually here right now.”
Bibi: I feel bad because her answer is cute and mine is not so much. I got to Dubai before her, so I had to pick her up from the airport. When she saw me, she was so nervous and excited that her bag dropped from her hand. It was embarrassing.
So how did you two meet? What was before the Dubai trip?
Kelly: We met on Instagram in 2017. Someone made a pussy challenge post and Babe commented on it. I thought that even if she wasn’t into girls, she wouldn’t be homophobic.
Bibi: After the comment, I noticed that someone was liking my pictures. I checked the notifications and saw her picture. She looked nice, so I went through the rest of her page. I didn’t really understand how social media worked then because I went to watch her story, and I didn’t know she could see that I had viewed it. I posted a story a few days after that, she commented on it and that’s how we started talking.
Kelly: It’s not everybody you meet for the first time you start asking personal questions, but we clicked. She told me things about herself, and I told her things about me too. We couldn’t stop talking. It was when she had to go to work, that we realised how long we had been talking. She lived in Canada then and I was in Nigeria, so it was past noon when she had to go. We continued chatting and became really close friends even before the subject of dating came up.
Who made the move to go from friends to lovers?
Bibi: I was going through a bad breakup at the time and she was too. One day in the middle of our conversation, I told her I was going to marry her, that I felt like she’s the one. She said, “I bet you tell all the other girls that.”
Before that, I was trying to find out if she was into girls or not, so I asked if she had a boyfriend. She said no and asked me the same thing. Then I asked if she had a girlfriend and she paused — I could see her online, but she didn’t reply for a few minutes.
Kelly: You know how Nigeria is — you can’t just go telling everyone that you’re a lesbian.
Bibi: At the time, I was going through a tough situation with my ex. We had been dragging it out for months, and at that point, we had decided to let things go. But being who I am, I wanted to do it in person. I arranged for the two of us to meet in Dubai.
I told Kelly about it and she was sad, but I assured her that I was going to keep her in the loop. We couldn’t even stop talking. Throughout the Dubai trip, I was on the phone with her. After I ended things with my ex, we continued talking and everything just seemed great. It was obvious we liked each other and connected deeply, but I am the type of person that you have to ask out, so it wasn’t official yet.
In May 2018, I arranged for another trip in Dubai for me and Kelly to meet. It was a nice trip for both of us. I remember us watching the royal wedding and feeling so emotional that we started crying. As we were crying, Kelly looked at me and asked me to be her girlfriend.
What happened afterwards?
Kelly: After two weeks, I returned to Lagos and she returned to Canada. It was very sad for both of us because we realised that we were in a long-distance relationship. Every three months, Babe would visit Nigeria, spend a few weeks, then go back. One time in 2019, she spent two months and when it was time to go, it was really tough. It took about six or seven months before we saw each other again.
I knew I wanted to be with her, so we struggled together through it. Sometimes we would have fights and decide to break up because of the distance. It was hard, but we are here now. We’ve been living together for about seven months now.
How did that happen?
Bibi: Last year, I decided to come to Nigeria for Kelly’s birthday because we had never celebrated any birthdays together. I was supposed to visit again in December 2019, but I stayed back to work so I could raise enough money for a nice time together. Then COVID hit. I got an email from the flight company that my flight was cancelled and they didn’t know when they would be flying again. Shortly after, the lockdown happened and everything started crumbling.
Our fights got worse, and we weren’t sure if we were going to see each other again. When flights resumed, I got COVID and it was terrible. Babe couldn’t get to me and I couldn’t get to her. We started talking about what would happen if I passed on. I had COVID for about eight weeks, and even after I got a negative result, I was still down with post-COVID symptoms, so I couldn’t fly.
After I got cleared, I wanted to come to Nigeria, but Nigeria had banned international flights. There was a flight going to Cotonou but when you got there, you had to use a bike to get to the border. I booked it. I also found another flight going to a South African country; I booked that as well. I booked a lot of flights because I was desperate. I was getting ready for the Cotonou trip when I got an email that they had updated their travel rules — I would have to get tested in Cotonou and spend up to a week there before leaving for anywhere else.
How did you feel about that?
I was born and bred in Canada — I have never lived anywhere else, so I was really scared. Babe couldn’t come to Cotonou because of the travel restrictions in Nigeria. She was crying, worried about me going to Cotonou, but I was like, “Babe, we are going to do this.” Two days before the flight, I got an email that there was an emergency flight leaving from Canada and going straight to Lagos. In those moments, looking for flights, I realised that the most important thing to me was my relationship with babe. I decided I wasn’t even coming to visit anymore — I was coming to stay.
Right away, I bought containers and started throwing my belongings in it, but because I had been booking flights, I was low on cash so I couldn’t send my stuff to Nigeria. I was worried about it for a while but one day, on my way back from buying another container for my stuff, my neighbour saw me and asked if I was sending it to Nigeria. He said he was sending a bus to Nigeria and it was empty. He asked to ship my containers with his bus at no cost at all. I jumped on it even though Babe was skeptical.
I carried our dog, Coco with me and jumped on that emergency flight within a week. There was a lot of news about flights getting cancelled so I was really anxious about the plane actually moving. When the pilot announced that we were ready to take off, I was on video call with Kelly and just started crying.
I am claustrophobic. I get bad panic attacks I take medication for on flights, but that day, I didn’t care.
I remember coming out of the airport and seeing this beautiful, amazing person holding a bouquet of roses. In that moment, I didn’t even care that I was in Nigeria and people are homophobic; I ran to her and started kissing her. Everyone was looking at us. Some people even shouted. That’s how I moved here. I didn’t even tell people at my office I was moving. After two months they asked when I was coming back, and I was like, you’re never gonna see me again. LOL.
Was there any pushback from your family when you moved?
Bibi: My family knew about Kelly already. My brothers are her biggest fans. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it when I was planning my trip because flights kept getting canceled, and I didn’t want to put my family through that roller coaster.
After I boarded, I called my brothers and told them I’m going to Nigeria. They asked if I was going to be safe, and when I said yes, they said they understood and they loved us. When I got to Nigeria, I called my mom and the first question she asked was, “Where is Kelly?” I handed Kelly the phone. When she confirmed I was safe, she said alright, bye. They knew I was in good hands.
What’s the best part of the relationship?
Kelly: I have a friend. I know it sounds silly. I was telling her this morning that I never had someone I could be this open and honest with. We’ve been in a relationship for four years, and I’ve grown so much that it’s not just about us being partners, it’s about our friendship. Every morning I wake up and I’m excited to hang out with my friend.
Bibi: Aww. I have always been in relationships where I put everything in and didn’t get anything back. The best part of this is the matched energy. When we started talking, I told her every single thing about myself, even the embarrassing stuff. She was like my diary — I could go to her and pour everything that I feel without filters. Even when I do something wrong, I am able to tell her honestly how I fucked up and that’s very special to me.
What was your worst fight like?
Bibi: We’ve been in a relationship for so long but in reality, we haven’t because we haven’t been in the same space for a long time. Long distance relationships are perfect because conversations happen over the phone. I could call her when I’m upset and she would cheer me up, but she doesn’t get to see me on days I’m overwhelmed. When we started living together, we would have fights because we didn’t know certain things about each other. We got to a point where we believed that we were not compatible and decided to break up. I was going to move back to Canada and we were asking who was going to get the dog among both of us. It was a big deal, but she went on a walk and when she came back, we started crying.
After a while, we talked about why we were crying. It turned out we both really wanted to be the relationship. We accepted that we didn’t have to be the exact same person we were over the phone — we could evolve, and we had to put in the work for the relationship to work.
Do you remember what caused the fight?
Kelly: On my way to the gym, I was using my phone. I recently started driving and Bibi always tells me to leave my phone alone. That day, I hit someone with the car. It made a small dent.
Bibi: Don’t add small or big o. Just tell the story.
Kelly: I tell Babe everything, but I knew that one would make her upset. One day, she saw the dent and asked me what happened. I told her I didn’t know how to say it because she would be upset. She said I didn’t know her. I didn’t understand. I thought it was about the dent, which was a small thing to me.
Bibi: Driving distracted is huge to me because my brother died from an accident. When that happened, I felt betrayed. It wasn’t about the dent. I was worried that Kelly had something that she couldn’t tell me. I didn’t understand that she didn’t want to let me down. I didn’t see it from that angle — I was more concerned she kept it a secret. She was like, “It’s a car, I’ll fix it,” and I said it wasn’t about the dent. That’s how we started talking about how we don’t know each other.
What is your favourite thing about your relationship?
Kelly: I love how she makes my food. Babe is obsessed with how she serves her food. With her, it’s not just rice; she would have other things on the side like eggs, plantain in cute shapes that make it more interesting. Those little details are my favorite thing about being with her.
Bibi: I have been through so much in my life. There are stories I don’t tell people, but since the first day I met this person, she has never judged me. I would tell her something shocking and wait for her reaction. Instead of judging me, she would say it’s okay. She would never bring it up again. She would assure me that I am a human being and I am allowed to live. If someone else brings it up around her, she would defend me.
Another thing is that I live with a mental health issue. Anytime I have episodes, she would cry and ask God to put it on her. When I had COVID, she wanted to get it too because she didn’t want me to be alone in it. I told her you’re going to die o. Her getting it wouldn’t have done anything for me, but the fact that she didn’t want me to walk through it alone was everything.
Rate your relationship on a scale of 1 – 10.
Kelly: 10. It’s not like we’re perfect, but we are us.
Bibi: When it comes to relationships, a lot of people try to portray perfection, but queer relationships are so different. I was taught how to behave in a man’s house, but now I’m in a woman’s house and those rules don’t apply.
I rate it a 10 because it’s not perfect, but I don’t want it to be because I feel like perfect is fake. Those hiccups we face helps me understand her more.
During my first week at Zikoko, I wanted to write an article on how body dysmorphia affects women. I made a call for women to share their stories with me and Fisayo* messaged me. I eventually found that a similar article had been written but the conversation I had with them led to this article.
I was assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, but I identify as a trans non-binary person with they/them pronouns.
One day, when I was about ten years old, I cut off all my hair with a pair of scissors and told people I wanted to be a boy. At the time, I thought those were the only two genders available. My dad was actually pretty cool with it — I guess because he always wanted a son. My mum, on the other hand, tried to force me into acting more feminine for a while. She made me wear dresses.
In secondary school, I mingled with other girls more and tried to emulate their hairstyle and their makeup. I always knew it wasn’t my thing, but I wanted to make my mum happy. As I got older, I found that I was more comfortable wearing masculine clothes. I think I’ve finally found a balance that everyone is cool with. I’m fine braiding my hair, and I don’t mind wearing makeup, but at the same time, I don’t feel like myself in traditionally feminine clothes.
Sometime in 2018, I came across a TikTok video on being genderfluid, and it sparked something in me. I started to read more articles and watch more videos to learn about myself.
The only person in my family that truly knows who I am is my younger sister. I’ve been having discussions with her about people who aren’t boys or girls because they’re not happy with it, as well as boys who like boys and girls who like girls. It’s something we’ve always talked about since she was like seven years old — she’s nine now. These days, she asks if I’m okay with being called things like beautiful because she knows it’s typically for girls. But I know a couple of people who think I’m just confused, on social media and in-person too. The people I interact with at school are quite understanding. My family doesn’t exactly know I’m non-binary yet because I haven’t figured out how to explain it to them.
My relationship with my body depends on the day. Sometimes, I absolutely love my body and other days, I do not feel masculine enough or feminine enough. For me, body dysmorphia is tied to gender dysphoria because even though I was assigned female at birth, I don’t identify as female. So at times when I feel distressed about my body, it affects how I feel about my gender identity. For example, being on my period just reminds me that I was assigned a certain gender.
I am used to people misgendering me especially because I live in Nigeria — most people don’t understand it, including queer people. I intend to go on hormone blockers and probably testosterone someday, so hopefully, the way I feel on the inside will match how I look on the outside.
If I were to rate my life living as a trans nonbinary person in Nigeria, I would give it a six. At first glance, when you see me, I don’t look non-binary because I present extremely feminine even in masculine clothes. I think it’s more obvious in my personality than in my physical appearance. It took a while for me to know that non-binary doesn’t equal androgyny. It’s kinda fun when strangers have to wonder about your gender. I’d like to cut my hair at some point when I’m ready. Try some protein shakes and start working out as well, but I can’t right now due to some health issues. I also want to get a whole new wardrobe of clothes that would aptly represent who I am.
For this week’s what she said, we talk to Uju Anya, a 44-year-old woman. She tells us about leaving Nigeria with her mum because of her abusive dad, discovering she is lesbian, not bisexual, and becoming an atheist.
Let’s start from the beginning. Where did you grow up?
I was born in the city of Enugu back when it was Anambra state. My dad is Nigerian and Igbo. He was in law school in England when he met my mum, who was from Trinidad, Tobago. She was in nursing school doing midwifery. They got married in England and had my older sister, then moved to Nigeria in the early 60s to pretty much help build the republic. During much of the Biafran war, my dad left my mum with his family, while she had two children under 10 and was pregnant with the third, so he could go hang out with his mistress.
Wow. That’s rough.
My mum was taking care of her children and in-laws and running, escaping from bombs from village to village.
After the war, they built a solid life in Enugu, had two more kids — I was the last child. They had me 1976, and I lived in Nigeria for the first 10 years of my life.
What changed?
My parents’ marriage was chaotic. My dad was a philanderer, an absolute whoremonger. He had a bunch of women. One was more regular than the others. Eventually, he married and brought her into the house.
At first, my mum was not okay with him having these other women, but she turned a blind eye to it. However, when he married her and demanded that she live in the same house which they built together, she couldn’t take it. My mum plotted her escape for two years.
In 1986, she secretly took me and my brother, who was 13, to the United States. My older siblings were older than 18, so she didn’t take them. We all reunited later in the US when they came to live with us. I wrote a whole Twitter thread about it.
How did this move affect your relationship with your family?
In Nigeria, I was raised by my mother, an army of nannies, the house help, aunties, cousins, grandmothers, but not my father. My father was the first son amongst many sons. He was also the wealthiest one at the time. Picture this: a rich Igbo man with a chieftaincy title. He was traditional and conservative, always working or travelling, and when he was around, he was surrounded by staff or visitors or socialising with adult family members and too big and powerful a figure to bother with small children. Plus, he was not an affectionate man. So, I did not have a personal relationship with him in any meaningful way. If he had gone away, I wouldn’t have missed him — and I didn’t when we went away.
My mother and I were so close, I slept in her bed until I was seven or eight years old. I was her confidante, and she talked to me about everything. She didn’t try to protect me from the knowledge of the workings of grown-ups and grown-up relationships. It was inappropriate, the amount of adult information she told me. But I was also a very nosy and precocious child who had a lot of time alone in the house when my mum was working. I went through all her stuff, her papers, read personal letters.
Tell me about what happened after moving.
We moved to Montgomery County, Maryland, the DC metro area — and there, not Nigeria, is where I consider my home. I grew up there, went to high school there, then I went to university in the New England region of the United States. So Hanover, New Hampshire for undergrad at Dartmouth College and then I lived in Providence, Rhode Island, where I did a master’s at Brown University, Andover, Massachusetts, right outside Boston where I taught at Phillips Academy.
Wait — how many cities have you lived in?
Let’s see. There was the DC metro area, I moved to Brazil for a few years. When my mum got sick, I had to come back. Then I got married, moved with my now ex-husband to Los Angeles so he could find steady work as a digital artist and animator in film and television. After 12 years, with two kids, I moved to Pennsylvania for work. I’ve also lived in Venezuela and Spain.
How did you meet your ex-husband?
When I was an adolescent, I was attracted to both boys and girls. I thought I was bi for pretty much my adult life. I dated women in college, but only when I was away in school. On holiday, at my mother’s house, whenever I went out with a woman who couldn’t pass for a “friend” because she was butch — and those women are my favourite — I would meet them down the street or at the place we were going. I brought girlfriends to my house but never said who they really were. There was no way I could openly admit that I was interested in and dating women at home. Home was not only extremely Nigerian and West Indian, it was also religious. I could only openly live as queer when I lived by myself in college, and afterwards when I was living abroad or renting my own place.
Then I fell passionately in love with the man who became my husband. I consider him the love of my life. At 28, there was the pressure to get married, and for two years before meeting him, I was living with a woman in Brazil. Rumours were flying among my family members that something “funny” was going on with me. So there was pressure, but I didn’t get married under duress. I was relieved to find a man I loved and sexually desired because previously I had a lot of trouble reciprocating men’s affection for me. So, I married actively and willingly and passionately for a good long time.
He knew I loved women, and during the marriage, I was openly bisexual. Eventually, towards the end of our marriage, I realised I was not bisexual; I was a lesbian. And that was ultimately what broke us up. I couldn’t continue living with a man knowing I exclusively wanted women.
Did your mum eventually find out about your sexuality?
My mum never knew I was a lesbian or even bisexual. At least, I never discussed it with her. If she suspected or heard family rumours, she never told me. She died before I divorced, so I never had any conversation with her about why my marriage ended.
Her death was one of the things that caused me to understand how short life was, that stress and heartache could cause chronic and ultimately fatal illness, and how important it was to find happiness and fulfilment while I was still here to enjoy it.
Were you still Catholic at this point?
No. I stopped being catholic long before. For context, my mum was such a devout Catholic, she almost became a nun. In Nigeria, she gave it up for her husband’s religion — Anglicanism. When we came to America, she baptised us immediately. I and my brother attended Catholic schools up until university.
From the beginning, I was one of the troublesome kids that had questions and didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to ask them. Like, none of this shit makes sense. Can somebody explain all this to me?
I would get in trouble for that, but after all the yelling and punishment for asking questions, ain’t nobody still answered my fucking questions.
Eventually, I abandoned Catholicism because it was anti-woman and patriarchal. I started reading feminists back when I was a teenager and getting ideas that just didn’t match with Catholicism. But I wasn’t ready to abandon religion and God. So after I left Catholicism, I experimented with traditional African religions in Brazil. It was funny because I was an Igbo person worshipping Ifa.
Why a traditional religion?
It seemed more realistic. The gods were more like intermediaries than gods. They had human attributes. They engaged with humanity, and women were leaders in these religious groups. Women had power and there were female gods and deities as well — God wasn’t just this one angry white man.
You read history, colonialism and imperialism. You read about feminism, and they still want you to worship these people. I wasn’t comfortable with that. So I did a little bit better during my African religion phase, but it still required me to hold competing ideas in my brain at the same time.
I couldn’t push aside my knowledge of biology, physics and logic for supernatural truth, dogma and hierarchies. Religion and a belief in the supernatural became more and more uncomfortable when it bumped up against what I understood to be reality and the way reality functions.
What was the tipping point for you?
My views on goodness changed. I was raised to believe that you needed to believe in God to be good or moral. But godly people were some of the biggest assholes I knew and so much of the torture and violence that I experienced or watched and read about other people experiencing came from believers BECAUSE of religious beliefs.
My ex-husband was an atheist who was also raised in an atheist household and society. He was the most moral person I had had any kind of close contact with. This was somebody who did not lie or raise his hand to me or to our children. The one time that I, in anger, attacked him physically, he held me. This six-foot-five 250 pounds man held me very, very closely and said, “No violence,” and put me down.
I had met atheists in school, had professors who were atheists, but they never swayed my religious beliefs; I didn’t have daily intimacy with them. When I finally had a personal relationship living, talking, learning, and experiencing things, experiencing values and ideals in live-action with somebody who was not a believer, I saw with my own eyes that one could be good without God. So, I let God go.
How did your family take your bold ideas and beliefs?
Before Twitter, I was a big mouth on Facebook, which was the family village square. Facebook was difficult for my family members, and whatever I said on Facebook caused problems for me. For example, every Nigerian knows that our houses are extremely violent and adults beat children in awful ways, and I would say, “Don’t do this. It is perfectly reasonable and possible to raise respectful, well behaved, and functioning children without beating them.” And sparks would fly. My family members would say, “We heard you were calling your family abusive on Facebook.”
There was always this idea that I was washing dirty laundry, disgracing our family and giving us all a bad name. Whenever I talked about gay anything, not even about myself, family members complained I was shaming them. I had a psychotic uncle that would use this to argue for my dad’s inheritance. He would say my father’s line was cursed with homosexuality and witchcraft, and that’s why we don’t deserve our inheritance.
When I came out as a lesbian, with pictures of myself hugging and kissing my girlfriend at the time, I had to deal with phone calls from three different continents.
In the end, I deleted Facebook. I mean, I left Facebook for another reason. I didn’t wanna continue on that site with how it was functioning to undermine democracy in the US and around the world, like genocides and disinformation campaigns being organised there. But when you leave Facebook, you leave a lot of family and friends you only connect with on there. So, leaving Facebook meant I also left family members, my village people, and other monitoring spirits who caused me a lot of problems because they disapproved of my views and my life.
Is there anything else you’d like to share?
I want to tell women that you deserve joy, you deserve joy and, most importantly, you deserve orgasms. I have slept with enough women to know that a natural, normal achievable condition for women is easily 10-15 orgasms per sexual session, and women need to know this. And this isn’t just a lesbian thing. You can do it with men, by yourself when masturbating, whenever and however you get down. You don’t have to accept bad sex. It’s all about fucking people who care about your orgasms, and also, learning how to take your orgasms for yourself during sex, not waiting for people to give it to you.
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Although non-members of the LGBTQ+ community are harassed when profiled as “gay”, a lot of people believe that the QueerNigerianLivesMatter hashtag is unnecessary. Members of the LGBTQ+ community, like many Nigerians, are fighting for their right to exist. They are victims of police brutality. So, we spoke to some queer Nigerian protesters to tell us about how they’ve been treated at the protests.
It is the people that tell you that you are hijacking a movement that annoy me. Police brutality affects all of us. You hear stories of people being harassed for “looking gay”. No, they have no proof of these people’s sexuality, they just profile and stereotype them. Imagine how much danger actual gay people are in. The lives of queer Nigerians do matter. We need the world to know that during the fight to end police brutality, queer people showed up, and fought. People have threatened my life, threatened to rape me etc, but I would not stop.
Kunle; 21, Enugu
In Enugu, it was mostly uneventful. I was not kicked out of the protest or anything, but people made horrible comments about my poster. Whenever they made their comments, I replied with “Queer lives matter”.
Samantha; 20, Jos
I went protesting for the women and the queers. When I was writing on the placard, a friend of mine told me that it was not the place, but I did not listen. They were the reasons I came out to protest anyway. People kept giving my placard double-takes. It was weird; the subtle aggression.
Ayo; 21, Lagos
In Lekki, I guess the protection came from numbers. We were a lot, so people could not really physically attack us. The moment we started taking up space, expressing ourselves, they had a problem. It was like they were telling us we could exist, but not too much.
James; 22, online protester
The thing with being harassed as an online protester is that people have the privilege of hiding behind their screen. They have told me to die and threatened to come kill me. Just for demanding that my life is as important as everyone else’s.
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