I met a young man some time ago and he told me
his story. Though he was concerned about
disclosing his identity he wanted his story to be
Wow… I really don’t know where to start from. But I
guess I could start from somewhere. My name is
not of importance but if you insist you can address
me by any name. Personally I’d prefer the name
‘Tola’. That is my favorite uncle’s name.
I was born and raised on the hot grounds of kaduna
state. My parents are islamic enthusiasts, but I
hardly prayed if I could avoid it.
Its not as if I was a bad muslim. Its just that
somewhere along the line i realised that my being
a muslim wasn’t my choice. It was my parent’s
choice. And happiness did not come with trying to
please my parents. So I renounced my faith and
searched the world for a better life.
Fela anipulapo kuti used to be my role model. The
day I stopped trying to be like him was the
greatest day of my life. I used to have all his songs
in my music collection. He was very motivational.
He talked about life, government, Survival
amongst the very least.
I used to adore him until I read about his
promiscousity with women. And at that instant I
suddenly realised that his songs had no meaning.
That all these years the man I had idolized had
been speaking to me in a language I would never
Destiny brought me to the south in form
admission. I was admitted into the Federal
University Of Abeokuta. People called it a
prestigious university. Though I failed to see the
School was tough. Life off campus was tougher. My
culture is different from that of yoruba folks. And it
did not take me a long time till I realised I hated a
lot of things about my friends. Though we shared
memorable moments together, I loathed the day I
set foot in that school.
My troubles soon faded away the moment femi
(not real name) stepped into my life. He was a tall,
handsome young lad with the wisdom and
intelligence of a sage and a very kind heart.
He was not only in my college but also my in
department and so he helped me through the
hardship of school along with my grades.
A few months after we met, I moved into femi’s
place, partly because I was tiresome of my areas’s
constant lack of water and electricity and partly
because I felt femi needed a companion because
his place was partly distant, so he was always
My stay at femi’s place was always joyful. I realised
that the both of us shared many things in common.
We both liked the same songs, we both hated
sports, we both believed we were outcasts…
One night after six months of staying at his crib, I
woke up to a very strange feeling : someone’s hand
had been threading deep within my underwear. I
was shocked to see femi’s face staring at me with a
look I had never seen him exhibit before. At first I
tried to resist his advances but I will not deny the
feeling felt good. That night we had sex…
(Right now I know what you must be thinking: you
are wondering if you had misinterpreted my story
and that I am a girl. Well if so the answer is a
capital NO. You have not misinterpreted my story
and I am infact a boy).
My relationship with Femi went on for about three
more years till we graduated. We had believed that
nothing would split us apart, however we had
underestimated the greatest enemy :Time…
Femi was transfered to anambra state for his
National Youth Corp Service program (NYSC) while
I remained in abeokuta.
We tried to hold the relationship for about a year
more but I must admit that it wasn’t easy. Distance
and time are two powerful factors capable of mass
I tried my best but I must confess it wasn’t good
enough for femi, for one day he called me and told
me he had a new partner that meant everything to
him and that I should move on.
My heart was broken but if there is anything I
learned from my parents it was never to let anyone
or anything bring you down… To always be strong.
And so I took the pieces that my heart became and
moved on with life, trying (with little success) to
drop my troubles and sorrows along the way….
There are two types of people in life: those that try
to quench the flame of love, and those that try to
keep the flame burning even if they themselves
got burnt in the process… I was the one keeping
the flame going. Femi was the extinguisher.
I am writing this story at the back of a bus on my
way home. Back to the sunny side state where I
come from. Its been three months since Femi broke
up with me over the phone…
I don’t want pity from anybody that reads this
(infact I doubt it if I get any) for I know I am a
sinner. And I am immoral. But one thing I want is
for you to not criticise or judge me in any way.
Homosexuals do not aspire to be what they are.
They are created that way. So I beg you to please
never discriminate us. Like you we have a heart,
like you we have feelings, and like you we cannot
choose who we fall in love with.