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  • Nengi*, 25, thought breaking up with her boyfriend and starting something new with a woman would bring her peace. Instead, it marked the beginning of a year-long cycle of threats, fear, and emotional whiplash, all from the man who once claimed to love her.

    He couldn’t believe she left. He definitely couldn’t believe who she left him for. And he made sure she felt it every chance he got.

    TW: Physical and Sexual Abuse, Threats, Stalking

    This is Nengi’s Story, as told to Princess 

    Ben and I had known each other all our lives. Our families were close, and we’d hang out at each other’s houses all the time. But we lost touch after a while, only seeing each other at weddings or funerals. Later, during the corona year, when my mum and I were staying at my aunt’s while our house was under construction, I started seeing him again. He lived nearby and would come around. That’s when we started talking more.

    At first, it was just sex. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. But eventually, he gave me an ultimatum: date me or never talk to me again. So I entered the relationship, not really because I wanted to but because it almost felt like I didn’t have a choice. In the beginning, the relationship was playful and fun. It was also sneaky, which added a forbidden layer to it, heightening things between us. See, though we were family friends, my mum didn’t approve of him. She never liked him, so I had to keep the relationship hidden.

    I wanted to end things from the very start. But he kept begging, apologizing, talking about love and second chances. He gave me no breathing room. I couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried. Also, he held onto something that happened early on in the relationship. 

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    One weekend, my best friend dragged me to hang out with a guy she liked. His best friend, who also happened to be one of my exes, *Sam, was there too. Ben was fully aware. I let him know where I was going and who I was with. I even sent snaps when I got there. Nothing happened between Sam and I, but when I went to see Ben, he wanted a run-down of the day. With nothing on my mind, I shared everything, including when Sam leaned in and tried to kiss me. Looking back, that wasn’t information Ben needed. It was like he was deaf to the part where I clearly said I didn’t let it happen. He screamed and accused me of instigating things and lying. He asked why I would go there in the first place if I was serious about him. He caused such a scene that night and gaslighted me so much I didn’t even know when I started apologizing and crying. He held it against me for the two years we were together. 

    He was controlling and possessive. He would text constantly, expect immediate replies, and always wanted updates about my day and whereabouts. For most of our relationship, I was at school in Benin and he was back in Port Harcourt. He didn’t know Benin well, but still demanded location updates. If I didn’t respond fast enough, it was a fight. If I missed a call, it was an issue.

    I never felt like I could be myself. I was always pretending to be broke because he never spent on me. I had to take care of myself, but if he saw me doing that, he’d question where the money came from. He knew I modeled, but that wasn’t where most of my money came from. If he knew how much I spent, he would fight me. So, I hid everything. He questioned my friendships, especially with women. For some  context, I’ve always been into women, since I was 6 or 7. I’d been kissing and feeling up my female friends years before we were anything. He knew. Ben and I were friends before dating, so I guess I overshared, and he used that against me later.

    The arguments were constant. He always found something to be angry about, something I did wrong. It was exhausting. Eventually, I decided to leave. It was partly because I had someone I now cared for and wanted to be with. Mostly, I just didn’t want to stay in a relationship with someone who manipulated me and made me feel constantly on edge. I told him it was over via text, then calls. He, of course, tried to fight it. I remember when we first met after our break up. I was going to see Karina*, the woman I met while with him, and he showed up. 

    I got in his car for a quick chat. I told him I was done and didn’t love him anymore. He kept apologizing, but I was done. I told him he had been saying he would change the entire time we had been together. He wasn’t changing. This was who he was. Still, he kept trying, saying we had our whole lives ahead of us and reminding me of the good times at the start. 

    ALSO READ: I Called Off My Engagement Because of a Joke

    The next time we met, I agreed to a civil conversation at a restaurant. I only did it because I had empathy for the creature I had spent years with. But the conversation was a repeat of the one in the car ride. I said I wasn’t happy, didn’t love him anymore, and had only stayed because he kept threatening to post my nudes, tell my mum things, or take away my phone. In fact, I showed up that day intending to give the phone back, but he suddenly became the bigger person, saying he wouldn’t take it because he bought it for me.

    This magnanimity, of course, lasted only until he realised I wasn’t budging. Then he started screaming in the restaurant, saying that I was leaving him for a woman. “How could I do that? We had our whole lives to live!” He said I wouldn’t be happy with my new partner. That we wouldn’t last. He even suggested that if I wanted to “do women”, I could, but still be with him. Something we both know he would never have been fine with, because it wasn’t just a physical thing. He held nothing to them, and he hated that. He proceeded to grab the phone he said he wouldn’t take, as well as my purse, and stormed out. 

    Luckily, I have sense. I hadn’t  placed an order or touched anything until he paid. The bill was already sorted before we began talking, and my aunt’s house was nearby, so after calming myself down and wiping my tears, I picked myself up and started walking to my aunts. 

    A few steps down the street, I heard my name. Ben was running after me with my bag and phone. I ignored him and kept walking. When he got close enough, I dragged my things from him and continued my journey. In his attempt to pull me back, he gave me a cut on my hand. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. We were still on the street, and I spun around and started screaming! “YOU NO GO LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME O! LEAVE ME O! You know my own is not good. YOU KNOW!” 

    It was so bad that people on the street and even his Bolt driver were shouting at him. After I blew up, he finally left. That wasn’t the first breakup attempt. It was maybe the 50th. Every time I tried to leave, he acted like his life was ending. He’d cry, beg, and promise to change. It became a cycle.

    But after the breakup, the true hunting began. He would beg and threaten in turns. He showed up at my house. When he didn’t find me, he went to my mum’s office and told her everything, including the fact that I was now with a woman. My mum was a deacon in church. He knew what telling her meant. Everything I had been trying to avoid by continuing in that  horrid relationship happened. Everything I was scared of became reality. He texted, called, made new accounts on Telegram, Instagram, WhatsApp. He used his dad’s, sister’s, brother’s numbers to try to reach me.

    He found out I had moved in with my partner in Lagos. I told him directly, too. I think it bruised his ego more than anything. He didn’t just lose me to someone else, he lost me to a woman. He couldn’t dismiss it as just sex. He knew it was serious.

    He showed up at places. He physically harassed me once on the road with my cousin. He threatened to come to Lagos and hurt me and my partner. He sent her literal death threats. He also threatened to go to her family house in Port Harcourt. That first year of our relationship was full of his pungent presence. It felt like he refused to let go, and we were stuck dealing with the fallout.

    He was also physically abusive while we were together. He would check my phone obsessively. Once, he got violent when a message popped up from someone he didn’t know. He dragged me across the floor to get my phone. Another time, he pinned me down and forced my legs apart when I said I wasn’t in the mood for sex. All of that stayed with me long after we broke up. I was scared, even in public. He said he knew where I was in Lagos. He promised to come and hurt me. For a long time, I kept looking over my shoulder.

    Eventually, it stopped. Or more like, he got tired and was too broke to follow up with his threats. I never responded. I blocked him everywhere. When he reached out with a business idea, I blocked that too. He ran out of ways to reach me. He even tried reaching me through Vera. 

    My partner went through it with me. It was heavy, having to build something new while my ex was actively trying to destroy it. And while I was trying to heal from what I went through with him.  He even threatened Karina’s family. I felt terrible for dragging that into her life, but she stood by me. That mattered.

    Now, I haven’t heard from him directly. But I know he still talks to one of my friends. Apparently, he’s miserable. And honestly? Good. He caused me so much pain. As for me? July will make it three years since I have been with the love of my life. We have the craziest ginger hamster known to man. We’re happy. 

    If you’re going through something similar, I’d say this: it will hurt to leave, but it’s a pain that leads somewhere better. There’s life after the ache. There are people who will treat you better. What I’ve learned is that the only person you owe anything is yourself. Don’t let fear keep you in danger. Don’t wait for it to get worse. Leave, and keep leaving. Block, block, block. Your peace is worth protecting.

    Editor’s Note: The picture and names in this article are not related to the subject in the story

    ALSO READ: Since I Became the Breadwinner, I Started Resenting my Husband

  • A new season of “The L Word” is out, Bette and Tina are getting back together, and suddenly, you have the grand idea to text your ex from 2019. If you don’t put down that phone and sleep! Instead of making the mistake of a lifetime, here are fun things you can do. A new season of “The L Word” is out, Bette and Tina are getting back together, and suddenly, you have the grand idea to text your ex from 2019. If you don’t put down that phone and sleep! Instead of making the mistake of a lifetime, here are fun things you can do. 

    Clear out your contact list

    No, you’ll never talk to that one ex who’s technically not even your ex, and those group chats are one too many. Also, end that situationship before 2023, abeg, your inner child is tired of crying. 

    Call your friend 

    It’s been three months since y’all hung out, and no, I’m not talking about those random times you saw each other at a party. Call them and just chill on the phone. That’s a better way to spend your time. 

    Learn how to code 

    Instead of getting into another codependent relationship, learn to code. Not only are you upskilling, but you’re also healing. Wow, someone put that on a t-shirt. 

    Exercise 

    You’ve been meaning to anyway. Anytime you consider texting her, do 100 push-ups. When your fingers almost break, you’ll have sense. You’re not Bette and Tina; your relationship was even more problematic. 

    Organise your clothes 

    Maybe you’ll be able to face the shame of the insane amount of your clothes still in your exes’ wardrobe. That’ll definitely give you sense. Are you ready to purchase a new wardrobe? No? Exactly.

    Rewatch “The L Word” from the beginning 

    Think of it as a Christmas gift to yourself. Remind yourself that your ex sucks, and you guys deserve to remain exes forever. Also, simp over Shane. 

    Calculate how much you spend on love 

    Maybe you’ll finally come to your senses. Only you, six failed relationships, six different promise rings and almost proposals this year alone. Is your bank account not tired? Rest, abeg. 

  • Sex Life is an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.

    The subject of this week’s Sex Life is a 21-year-old lesbian who finds it difficult to orgasm with partners. She talks about only ever having orgasms she gives herself and having sex for intimacy. 

    Tell me about your first sexual experience 

    One day, my 14-year-old self was taking a shower. And I touched something that felt good. When I went back to my room, I decided to find out what the feeling was. After lights out, I touched myself till I had an orgasm. It felt really good, and it became something I did frequently. Whenever I got the chance, I masturbated. 

    My first sexual experience with someone else wasn’t until a year later. There was this girl in the room beside mine. We’d become very close within our first few weeks of talking, and had progressed from sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, to cuddling each other through the night. 

    One night, she woke me up because she wanted to talk. After a while of staring at me as I spoke, she kissed me. It was a kind kiss, like she was testing the waters. It felt nice. 

    Did it progress past that? 

    No, it didn’t. But after a while, the kisses were very heavy. I wanted to have sex with her, but there were people around and she was hesitant. I walked her back to her room, and she kissed me again. 

    The entirety of my relationship with her constituted of stolen kisses. Then when the school term was over, I transferred to another school and that put an end to it. 

    In the new school, there was this girl I really liked. When I told the new friends I’d made in my all girls’ school, they tried to set us up. It worked, and the girl and I started dating. So even though I’d tried to suppress how I viewed women, because a friend of mine said it was wrong, it didn’t last. 

    Hooking up with her wasn’t anything special. She had long fingers, but it felt like she didn’t know what she was doing. It wasn’t really a comfortable experience. The kisses were nice though because I liked her, but her lips were always cold. We parted ways after she started being abusive toward me. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: My Goal Is to Pleasure Myself Not to Orgasm

    I’m so sorry about that

    It’s okay. She kept trying to put me down and dictate who I spoke to. Then she’d come to beg me with money or ridiculous gifts. 

    The relationship ended just as my secondary school experience was ending. When I got into university, I met a guy, and we started dating. The first time we hooked up was in his mum’s shop. She was gone for some business, and he had to man the shop. I came over to keep him company, but we ended up going into the inner room to have sex.

    How was it? 

    Well, for one, it really helped reinforce the fact that I was a lesbian. I wasn’t interested in his orgasm, and I knew it would not be possible for me to have one anyways. 

    But we dated for about a year and some months. 

    Why did you stay if you were a lesbian?

    I was battling some religious guilt. I’d gotten more involved in religion at the time, and lesbianism seemed like a much worse sin than regular fornication.

    And now? 

    I’m a lesbian with my full chest. The only problem is I’m a lesbian who isn’t having any orgasms that aren’t self-given. 

    How come? 

    I don’t know. After I broke up with the guy, I got involved with two more women. I loved having sex with them, but it was never enough to get me to orgasm. Luckily for me, I wasn’t into sex for the orgasms. 

    What were you in it for? 

    The intimacy. I’ve been a lonely person for as long as I can remember. The only times I’ve felt a sliver of the kind of intimacy I read about in books, was when I was having sex. The eye contact, the way they speak to me and hold me makes me feel wanted. That’s all I needed from sex. If I want to have an orgasm, I can do it myself. 

    However, it made me feel really bad. Like there was something wrong with me that made it impossible for a partner to give me an orgasm, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I didn’t like knowing a woman I liked might also never fully enjoy sex if her enjoyment relied on making her partner have an orgasm. 

    Do you think there was something they weren’t doing right? 

    No, actually. I just feel like it’s my cross to bear. I enjoy sex, but sex with another person might never give me an orgasm. 

    I do know, however, that when I went on medication for my depression in 2020, having an orgasm by myself became even more difficult. It’s like the medication killed whatever I had left of a sex drive. I couldn’t even masturbate because I felt so dry. It was so bad, I thought I was asexual. But then the doctors switched up my medication and orgasms became attainable and enjoyable again. Still, I haven’t tried sex with another person for a whole year. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: I Chase Orgasms But Medication Makes It Hard

    Why? 

    Well, since intimacy is what I really look forward to when it comes to sex, I can’t hook up with someone I don’t have romantic feelings for. And after my last relationship ended, I haven’t been able to fall in love with anyone. 

    Sure, I’ve bought a vibrator to keep me company, but that takes away whatever form of intimacy I could have gotten from masturbating. I’m not even touching myself. There’s a machine doing the work. 

    How’d you rate your Sex Life on a scale of 1-10?

    A -2. I feel like a burden to everyone I’ve had sex with. I just wish I was normal and could get both intimacy and orgasms from sex. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: I Don’t Enjoy Sex

  • Sex Life is an anonymous Zikoko weekly series that explores the pleasures, frustrations and excitement of sex in the lives of Nigerians.

    The subject of this week’s Sex Life is a 27-year-old lesbian who describes herself as a pleaser. She talks to us about discovering her sexuality, sleeping with many women to make up for what she’s missed, how kissing has never felt right and learning she has better sex when she’s not being touched. 

    Tell me about your first sexual experience

    I was 14 years old when I kissed a boy for the first time. He attended my church, and during the children’s vigil, we snuck into the bathroom and kissed. I didn’t know what to expect, but the kiss felt wet. It wasn’t magical or special. It just felt like someone’s mouth touched my own. On the other hand, he was smiling from ear to ear. I went along with it, but everything about it felt so wrong. 

    I thought it was because I didn’t know how kissing worked, so I kept kissing different boys. Every single time, I was met with disappointment. I knew it couldn’t have been them. There’s no single way every boy I kissed from when I was 14 till when I was 19 was terrible. I knew it was a me thing. I just didn’t know how. 

    What happened at 19? 

    That’s when I switched it up and kissed a woman for the first time. That day, I had gone out with a guy and had another disappointing kiss, so I was complaining to my roommate. I told her how this is something that’s been happening since I was 14 and that maybe I just couldn’t kiss right. She told me that maybe I needed to learn how to kiss properly. Then, she offered to teach me. I agreed and she kissed me. 

    The thing with kissing her is it, sure, it was a mouth touching mine and it was still wet, but the kiss felt different. I always knew my roommate was attractive; kissing her made me very aware of just how attractive she was. 

    When she pulled away, she told me I was probably overthinking it because I’m an amazing kisser. I’d like to think that kiss was what began my descent into discovering I was a lesbian. It’s just that it was a slow process. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: I Didn’t Think It Was Cheating if It Was With a Woman

    Why was it a slow process? 

    Well, lesbianism isn’t something a lot of people talk about. I hear more about being a gay man than being a lesbian. Whenever women act in anaffectionate way towards each other, it’s always written off as women being women. But if a man so much as smiles at another man, the word “gay” is thrown around a lot. It’s not like I didn’t know lesbianism existed. It’s just that when I was considering my options, it didn’t come to mind. Add the fact that I dress very feminine, nobody was moving to me or throwing the L word around me. Very distressing times. 

    That’s why I didn’t try to kiss a woman again until two years after I kissed the first one. And just like the first time, it was a friend who wanted to help me out. After I narrated my problem to a friend of mine, she told me maybe I was going about it all wrong and promised to introduce me to someone who might help. Turns out the someone was a woman she knew. I was confused at first, but my friend explained that maybe I was just kissing the wrong gender. I remembered the kiss my former roommate and I shared and decided to see this through. The woman and I talked a lot that night. When she asked me to come back to her place, I agreed without a second thought. I had sex that night for the first time, and I am so glad I didn’t do it with a man. 

    How was it? 

    Well, I didn’t know anything I was doing because I had never gone past kissing men and giving them handjobs. But she was so patient with me, kind too. She asked me questions throughout. When there was blood and I panicked a bit, she just removed the sheets and gave me a bath. It was the softest experience I had ever had. I enjoyed every minute of it. Maybe that’s why I didn’t want to leave her house. 

    Before, I thought I was a prude who wouldn’t enjoy sex, but something woke up in me that day. I was unstoppable. I wanted her to teach me everything she knew and she was more than happy to indulge me. I think she found my curiosity sexy. When I was leaving her house after living there for a couple of days, I made a promise to myself that I’d never go back to doing anything sexual with men. That was also the day I called myself a lesbian for the first time. 

    RELATED: Sex Life: Sex Felt Like an Exam I Had to Pass

    Wow. Were you able to keep your promise? 

    Yes! The only problem was there was a bit of involuntary celibacy on my part. It was difficult to find women to talk to without putting yourself in danger. The woman I had sex with for the first time left Nigeria soon after. Turns out she only visited occasionally, and I was back in square one. 

    So, I started befriending the extremely “masculine” women who people actually threw the L word at. I was determined to fix my involuntary celibacy. 

    Did you? 

    Tough times never last, only tough people do! And I am a tough babe. I knew I had a lot to learn and by befriending these women, I learnt it and found community at the same time. With every new woman I slept with, it felt like I discovered something new about myself. At 23, I learnt I loved performing oral sex. That same year, I let someone use a strap-on with me for the first time, and I used one with someone else too. 

    I think after discovering I was a lesbian, I tried to fit everything I had missed into a couple of years of sleeping with different women. Once a partner wanted to try something, I was down with it. But after two years of sleeping with everyone and their mums, I found something I liked and stuck to it. 

    Tell me about it

    I linked up with a woman all my friends told me not to because she was a “pillow princess”. Apparently, she did none of the work and just wanted to be fucked until she couldn’t walk. I was curious. I had never actually met one of those before. I wanted to see what it was like. 

    When we linked up, she refused to touch me. I felt like I had to earn her approval and it was very sexy. Every single time she had an orgasm, I got more turned on, and I didn’t stop until she couldn’t move. When she finally kissed me and touched my breasts, I had my only orgasm of the day. But it didn’t feel like it was just one because it was so strong I had to take a breather. 

    When she got into a relationship, I started looking for women who could reciprocate that exact feeling with me, Before we’d have sex, I’d tell them not to touch me until they felt I had earned it. I found myself gravitating towards “pillow princesses”. A lot of them think I’m bluffing because they’re not used to feminine women who enjoy pleasing, but it makes it even more fun for me.

    It’s not like I don’t like being touched. I’d just rather not be. Knowing my partner’s having a great time is really all I need. If they tell me I didn’t earn their touch, I would go home and masturbated. 

    Rate your sex life on a scale of 1-10

    9. I wish I had figured it all out earlier. But now, I’ve done all my exploring and my girlfriend and I are having really great sex. She understands my need to not be touched, and it works perfectly for her.

    RELATED: Sex Life: My Goal Is to Pleasure Myself Not to Orgasm

    READ ALSO: Sunken Ships: We Should’ve Been Friends Before We Dated

  • 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. 

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  • Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.

    Uju, 45, and Sirry, 40, have been dating for five months. Today on Love Life, they talk about meeting on Twitter, navigating dating as older women with kids and being in an intercultural relationship. 

    Love life: uju anya

    What’s your earliest memory of each other? 

    Sirry: I found her Twitter account in May 2020. I went through her profile, read her book on racialised identities and I thought she was pretty smart. 

    Uju: We liked each other’s tweets quite often. The first time we talked was on Clubhouse in a room I set up to discuss income and social class differences in lesbian relationships. After that day, our mutual friend organised a Zoom meeting about racial inequities. The aim was to bring experts from different disciplines together. It was a rich conversation, but Sirry and I were the only ones with PhDs in the room. Every other person was a medical doctor and we kept joking about how we weren’t that kind of doctor. 

    Sirry: Towards the end of the Zoom meeting, Uju sent me a private message on Zoom asking if I wanted to continue the conversation in a private room. In that room, we laughed a lot. Uju is very funny. We talked about race, lesbianism, and academia. Uju has two kids and I have a daughter so we talked a little about parenting. The conversations were easy and I felt safe expressing myself with her. We agreed to meet again on Zoom. This time with wine. 

    Uju: I enjoyed that meeting as much as I did the first one so we set up another one to watch a movie together. After the movie date, I asked her out on a physical date towards the end of January. 

    What was that like?

    Sirry: I was excited because I liked talking to her. She is intelligent and funny. During our calls, we talked and laughed a lot so I knew meeting in person would be cool. I got to the restaurant first and waited for her to show up. When she walked in, she looked around, adjusted her hair and looked at her phone, which I think she uses as a mirror sometimes. I thought to myself, “Is she trying to look good for me?” 

    Uju: I was, LOL. I was thrilled to see her so I took a lot of time to dress perfectly for the date. I wore this sweater that made me look respectable and hot. I aimed for plausible deniability — I could say I wasn’t trying to look hot; you just thought I was hot. 

    Sirry: It worked because I kept staring at her boobs the whole time. She looked so beautiful. 

    Uju: You too. She had long dreads, and they were gorgeous. Her smile was gorgeous as well. I just wanted to chat and chat with her. 

    At this point, did either of you have any concerns considering you were meeting for the first time?

    Uju: Sirry is a little bit intimidating. 

    How so? 

    Uju: Sirry is a black 40+ tenured professor who is also African, liberal, irreligious and progressive with a great political stance. Plus, she is masculine-identified. She is such a rare find and I was excited about that but I needed to make sure we were compatible. 

    Sirry: She asked me a lot of questions that day. Questions about my principles about relationships. Questions about my past, my politics, etc. I could see she didn’t have time to fool around. Answering those questions gave me a better idea of how she thinks. 

    I knew that she was someone I would get along with just fine. It was such a fun date.

    Uju: Yup and she brought me a present. 

    Awwn. What was the present?

    Uju: It was a little cactus that I later killed because I am not good with plants. I thought it was really sweet though. 

    Nice! What happened after that first date? 

    Uju: We continued our Zoom dates but I was careful to not get too attached to her because I didn’t want to get into a long-distance relationship. We both live in Pennsylvania but Pennsylvania is a long state so we are about four hours apart. I wanted a regular local relationship. 

    Sirry: She told me about the distance thing when I asked her out on an overnight date. She said she liked me, wanted me, but she didn’t want a long-distance relationship. My heart skipped. I was like, “Oh she’s thinking about me like that.”

    Uju: I had just started a new job in Pittsburgh. I moved with my two kids to a house that I had so much fun furnishing. I planned to live in my house for ten years, nothing less. There’s no way I was going anywhere else in the short term. If we were going to keep hanging out, she had to know that. 

    Sirry: When she said that, I started thinking of how to remove the barrier. 

    She doesn’t know this because I didn’t want to freak her out, but in my head, I had already started thinking of how to move to Pittsburgh, where she lives. I knew that I could find a job in Pittsburgh or wherever I wanted. In that moment, I realised that I was falling in love with her. 

    Ah, after how many dates?

    Uju: Do you get? This is news to me oh. If you had told me then I would have blocked your number sharp, sharp. 

    LMAO. Sirry, how did you end up fixing the situation? 

    Sirry: I decided to move to Pittsburgh anyway.  Uju found out I was in the job market looking to settle in Pittsburgh when I had to do an interview in front of her on one of our overnight dates. 

    Uju: I told her that day that I was not responsible for any of the decisions that she was making. Sirry is a walking unicorn and any school would be lucky to have her. I just didn’t want to take responsibility if things didn’t work out. 

    Did you want her to move though?

    Uju: Of course. I desperately wanted her to get that job so she could come to Pittsburgh but I also wanted her to make the best decision for herself, her career and her daughter. I didn’t want to think too much about it so we continued to date casually. 

    When did this casuality end?

    Sirry: I think we started dating, but we didn’t say we were dating. 

    Uju: In August 2021, I travelled to Mexico for my birthday. I had a wonderful time there, but I called her every morning to let her know that I slept alone. 

    I didn’t want her to think I was fucking around in Mexico and I had forgotten about her. I knew I was falling in love with her but I was yet to admit it even though my friends were pointing it out. Also, all the other women I was talking to started to fall off. I gave excuses to cancel dates with other women and focused most of my time on Sirry. 

    Our calls grew frequent and so did texts. Then there was that visit…

    What visit?

    Sirry: Uju had a conference close to my house, and she showed up. It was a regular visit but that visit changed everything. She had met my eight-year-old daughter on Zoom calls but on that visit, they met physically. We cuddled and kissed around the house during that visit.It was quite intimate. 

    When I dropped her off at the airport, my daughter, who was in the car, asked if Uju was my girlfriend. I asked why she was asking and she said, “Because you called her ‘babe’ all weekend and I saw you two snuggling on the couch when you were watching a movie.” At that moment, I realised that Uju was my girlfriend, but we hadn’t had that conversation yet. 

    Did you?

    Uju: Yes. A few weeks later, I went to the hospital for my annual check-up, which included checking for STIs. When I got the results, I texted her, “As it turns out, you’re the only person I’ve been having sex with and I just wanted to let you know that I had my STDs panel and that I’m all clear.” 

    Sirry: She said it as if she wasn’t deliberately cancelling dates with other women for me, as if it was a magical occurrence. LOL. 

    After that day, we went on a date and that’s when we became official. This was in November 2021.

    Nice, I am curious about how you two told your kids that you were dating and how they took it. 

    Sirry: My kid figured it out after that day at the airport, and she had been telling me before then that she wanted me to find a nice black woman. When she confirmed that I was dating Uju, she started telling everybody about her mother’s girlfriend. 

    Uju: A lot of women move in and out of my life, and I am careful to not expose them to my kids until it is serious. I eased Sirry into their lives. They met over video calls but my kids knew Sirry as my friend. The first time she visited my house, she stayed at a hotel. After that visit, I told my kids that Sirry and I are girlfriends. They were happy for us. It’s important for me to expose my children to healthy loving relationships, so I don’t let just anyone in until I am sure about them. 

    I am also extra lucky with Sirry because we have similar parenting styles. Sirry does not beat her child and she feels very strongly about that like me, despite being from a background where parents beat us. If this relationship gets to a point where we become a partnership and join households, I know we will be fine. 

    Have you guys had any fights yet? 

    Sirry: Arguments, yes but fights no. We argue about things like whether eru, a Cameroonian dish, is really just Nigeria’s afang. One time I made her egusi soup without palm oil. We had a little back and forth about whether or not egusi should have palm oil or not. It was funny but I learnt something from that conversation. Apparently, my mum stopped using palm oil in hers because of one petty beef she had with her neighbour. 

    Personally, I think people romanticise fighting in relationships. I don’t believe that people have to fight to understand each other better. 

    Uju: Yeah, we’ve disagreed with each other but we both know how to talk to each other. We are very lucky that we found in each other people who can effectively communicate and express themselves. When we want something, we ask each other for that thing. 

    Sirry: She even gave me a book about emotions to help me teach my daughter how to communicate her emotions better. Maybe, as we spend more time together, fights will come, but right now we’re good. 

    Aww, what’s your favourite part of each other?

    Sirry: Her mind. But I also love that she is gorgeous and that she challenges me. I’m a hundred per cent at home when I’m with her. I like how she mothers her children with softness and care. I also like how she talks about her friends. You can tell she really cares about them. This woman is everything, and I am head over heels in love with her. 

    Uju: I’m going to stop blushing and tell you about Sirry’s ass. You have not seen a booty like this. The shape is so perfect. You may not see it in the clothes she wears, but mehn, I’ve seen this thing, and it is the roundest, smoothest, most gorgeous ass I have ever seen.  It is a phenomenal ass, no jokes. 

    Aside from that, what is uniquely loveable and absolutely irreplaceable about Sirry, is her beautiful mind. I love the way her mind thinks. I love the way she expresses her mind in all the different contours, either in emotional or intellectual ways. She takes time to understand how things work and explain them. She is also a woman who understands trauma and healing. This means that she takes good care of herself emotionally and those who are lucky enough to be loved by her get taken care of too. I love her so much because of that. 

    Sweet, what’s the best part of your relationship?

    Sirry: It’s our conversations for me. Our conversations are never boring. It keeps me laughing. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night cackling because of something that she has said. Our conversations are both entertaining and nurturing. We could be talking about random stuff but there’s a richness of it that just adds to our knowledge. 

    Uju: Yes, and it’s the same for me too. Sirry stimulates my mind in many ways. She speaks my language — my cultural language, my food language, my body language, my sexual language, my love languages, everything. I have such a profound connection and compatibility with Sirry. It’s always exciting to talk to her because we agree on so many things.Then there is the sex. It’s so good I had to ask her if she came to bury juju in my house. 

    Sirry: LMAO. The sex we have makes me feel whole and I absolutely love it. One day, I was looking at her and she asked me, “Are you trying to fuck me right now?” And I said, “There’s never a time when I’m not trying to fuck you.”

    You two need to get a room, but before you do, rate your relationship on a scale of one to ten. 

    Sirry: 12 and I’m not even exaggerating. People who know me know that I’m pretty straightforward on things I care about. Uju is a fantastic person and I feel really lucky and fulfilled to be with her. I am deeply satisfied with our relationship. 

    Uju: This is not a competition, but Sirry is definitely beyond the scale. I would never have imagined that being with her would feel this good. It’s all so new. Maybe after a year of us living in the same town, I would have something different to say. Until then, I am profoundly satisfied and content to be loved by Sirry. 

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  • The subject of today’s What She Said is an 18-year-old lesbian who is living her best life. She talks about wanting to be a Reverend Father when she was a child, her hatred for skirts partly because of assault, living in a glass closet, and being scared of men.

    Tell me a memory from your childhood.

    When I was four years old, I was very short. I’m still quite short, but then I was way shorter. In the Catholic church, there’s a time where they ring bells to raise the bread during the liturgy of the Eucharist to signal the breaking of the bread. Although we sat in front, our church was built in a way that if you knelt you’d be forced to look up. Because of this, I couldn’t see the altar boys who used to ring the bells. I thought the sounds came from heaven. When I grew older and taller, I realised that the altar boys were the ones that rang the bell. I was crushed, most especially because I wanted to be a reverend father. 

    Reverend father? Why not reverend sister? 

    Well, their clothes were cool. All of that layering appealed to me and I liked how they looked. My brother was an altar server, and when he got dressed for church I was always in awe. Also, I was jealous of the ability of reverend fathers to talk to God directly and relay his message to the masses. Communication has always been hard for me, and so talking to people is difficult. Imagine talking to the person that created you? I wanted to be able to do that with the ease of which Father explained in Sunday mass. The thought of being a Reverend sister was never appealing to me because they had to wear skirts, and I hate wearing skirts. 

    What’s your issue with skirts?

    Men. I grew up with a lot of guys around. Some were good, but there were irritating ones. The ones who used to rub their hands up my leg because I was wearing a skirt. At first, it started off as a joke, but then as I grew older the touches became more suggestive. Our house was connected to the company my dad owned and so most of the goods needed were in our house. 

    It started when I was six and spanned six years. The tiler, the painter, the bricklayer, my uncle, one guy that was always around, the PHE teacher when I was in secondary school and the catechist. I had a skirt on every single time they assaulted me. My school uniform was a skirt and as the last girl, my mother said I had to wear skirts every single time. It started with them grabbing, asking me to sit on their lap, running their hands up my fucking skirt. 

    It also is one of the reasons I crave attention. Growing up, I never got the good type of attention, so now it’s all I want. When people give me that type of attention, I get so attached. When they care about me, it feels nice.

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    Oh my God. All those men? I am so sorry. Did you ever tell anyone? 

    I told my mum, but she always told me I was lying. So, I just stopped telling her and I haven’t told anyone else till this interview. If my mother wasn’t listening to me, who was going to? My only defence mechanism from the assault was to act more masculine. I thought that the more masculine I acted, the less these men would be interested in me. 

    Did acting masculine work? 

    Yes, it actually did. The men laid off my back, but then the problem changed. It became people constantly hounding me to “act like a girl”. I don’t know what acting like a girl meant. To me, I was a girl. What they wanted me to do was follow a strict set of rules and regulations and frame it under the guise of “being girly.”  I was not having it. 

    Being masculine makes my mum disappointed, but she has always been disappointed in me. At this point, it’s normal. My elder sister is the good one that followed the rules and regulations. I think since I am the third child out of four, my mother already had the impression that third children are the unruly ones. It also didn’t help that I never listened and always wanted to do things my way. 

    Sounds like you and your mum have a rocky relationship 

    Yeah, we do, but it has gotten better than it was before. During COVID lockdown, we had time to be in each other’s faces and bond. Friction still comes up whenever she wants me to do something and I refuse, but we’re good. She’s there for me financially. Emotionally? She tries her best. Spiritually? She should be. I don’t know. I don’t really fuck with the whole spiritual thing anymore. 

    Wait, from wanting to be a Reverend Father to this? Why?

    The whole idea just seems weird. There’s supposed to be one man who we all refer to as God, and then he created us to vibe, but then he also sprinkled so many misunderstandings into our life. Is all the conflict and death necessary? Like he’s playing games with us. Is this squid game? 

    As a child, believing was easy. It was just that you had to obey God, but as you grow older, there are things that you never bothered with as a child that are now considered sins. It’s hard. The whole idea is unnecessarily hard and I want no part of it. 

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    What are the things in particular that became hard? 

    Everything was hard. It was like who I am is a sin. I don’t fuck with people that don’t fuck with me. I want to be a free spirit. I want to go with the flow and be spontaneous and I felt like I couldn’t do that as a Christain. You have to live life a certain way so you can make heaven and that’s so stressful. 

    Also, because around the time, I thought I was bisexual. At the beginning that wasn’t a problem for me. I thought liking women was something everyone did. I had loved women since I was a child. I wanted to be their friend and protect them from everything.  Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of women around me. However, that changed when I went to an all-girls boarding school. I went from barely seeing women to seeing them all the time. 

    As someone always trying to remove women from uncomfortable situations, I felt like a knight, and knights were meant to fall in love with women. It made sense to me. When I was 15-years-old, I realised I was a lesbian. Men don’t move me sexually or romantically. I could never bring myself to just touch them or let them get close to me.

    When I got into my first year in university, I met a guy. He was nice to me and I don’t like hurting people’s feelings so we got closer. At this time, I had tried being feminine again. Then one day I went to visit him at his place and he tried sleeping with me. That just solidified the fact that I am not interested in men in any way and I am definitely a lesbian. I also went back to my masculine ways and that drove all the men away and brought the women closer.

    Now you identify as a lesbian? 

    Yes. I am gay as fuck 100%. Men don’t just do it for me and that doesn’t really sit well with God and his people. It seemed like everything on the “do not do” list is what I embody. It’s hard. 

    I haven’t officially come out to anyone yet, but they know. My closet door is made of glass so people can see right through it. I avoid the whole marriage conversation, have a rainbow flag in my room and never ever talk about men in a romantic or sexual way. I openly talk about how much I think women are perfect, so anyone that asks the right questions will know. 

    What’s life like for you now? 

    Living life afraid of men. I am studying engineering and there are so many men in my department. They make comments about how all they need to change me is a good dick. The fact that there are so many men constantly around me just scares me. I just want to live my best life, no matter what that looks like. I want to be a happy person and just vibe.

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  • The subject of this week’s What She Said is a 27-year-old queer woman who talks about being abused as a child, navigating her sexuality, and getting an abortion at the age of 20. 

    What is the earliest memory of your childhood? 

    The earliest thing I remember is being molested by my brother’s lesson teacher at age 3 or 4. I was always there during my brother’s lessons, so on this day, he asked my brother to go buy biscuits. After my brother left, he put me on the table and tried to finger me.

    I am so sorry. 

    Oh, it’s fine. My parents found out because my brother saw and the teacher got arrested. I mean, I had a bunch of other not so good experiences. I was molested multiple times by neighbours and lesson teachers, trade people that came to work in the house and even a family friend. 

    Shit. Were there any good experiences? 

    Well, when I was 9, my 12-year-old female family friend started messing around with me. I felt comfortable and I liked it. In secondary school, I knew I was attracted to some of my schoolmates. I’d even say my first relationship was with my best friend then. Back then, I didn’t know I loved her but when I think about it now, I totally did. 

    At some point, I stopped sharing my bed with friends or hugging cause I felt many types of ways and I didn’t want to act on it. I went to an all-girls Catholic school, so they preached hellfire and brimstone for lesbians.  

    I’m sorry, that must have been tough. Did you ever figure it out? 

    In 2011 when I left for university, I started watching loads of YouTube videos about gays and lesbians and started taking those “how to know if you’re a lesbian” quizzes. I figured out I was queer in 2014 but I still identified as bisexual even though I knew deep down I wasn’t attracted to men. 

    I was religious around that time so I started dating and sleeping with men a lot cause I thought that would cure me. That’s when I got pregnant.

    Woah. Pregnant? 

    I was 20 and the guy was a family friend. He knew about my sexuality and was someone I was relatively comfortable with. He also had a massive crush on me, but I only saw him as a friend. 

    I moved back to Nigeria from the UK in 2014 for NYSC. He was in the house and lived with my parents. In 2015, I was still figuring out my sexuality and he knew this. He would come and beg me to have sex with him. I would sometimes oblige. I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but I didn’t hate it either. 

    This particular time, it was on a Saturday night. He came to my room and begged again. I remember being completely still while he did his thing and then he came. He didn’t use a condom and I didn’t realise until I felt liquid in and on me. I let him know I was upset, cleaned myself and went to bed.

    The next morning, I got the morning after pill and took both pills as prescribed. A couple of weeks later, I felt ill.

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    Shit. Omo even with the pill? 

    Yes, even with the pill. I am one of those people whose periods come at the exact day the app says it would. 

    My period was late so I knew something was wrong. I got my aunt to get me two pregnancy tests. I took one in the night and that was negative. I still wasn’t relieved because I knew something was wrong. Immediately I woke up, I took the second one immediately and it came out positive.

    I reached out to a friend who I assumed might have had a similar experience and she gave me the names of the drugs to buy for an abortion. 

    Why? 

    I’d always said I would never keep a child I didn’t want. I was also about to leave for my master’s the next year and I genuinely did not like the father as anything more than a friend. The fact that he was borderline obsessed with me meant if I kept it, he would do everything he could to be directly in my life. I knew I couldn’t let that happen. 

    Well within your right. So, how did you go about it? 

    This is where my privilege comes into play. I’d just gotten back from the UK, so I had a UK account with money in it. I googled and found an organization that delivered abortion pills around the world. They would ship the pills free but typically wanted some sort of donation so others who couldn’t afford to could get it. I paid €60 and then the wait started.

    The pills were due here in about two weeks and I was so nervous. In the meantime, my best friend and her sister who was dating a doctor helped get a prescription for the exact pills from him. We went to almost every pharmacy in the Lekki/Ajah axis and we could only find one of the pills. I think the first pill was to stop the hormones that helped pregnancy grow in the body and the second was to eject/remove the fetus from the body. We could only find the ejecting pill and not the stopping pill. I became so depressed, I contemplated suicide for the first time in my life. 

    I really could not imagine having a child at that age and worse still, with that man. Thankfully, the drug came in less than two weeks so I took them as prescribed. The website also has a doctor who checks in on you. 

    How did you feel? 

    I had the worst cramps I’d ever had in my life. I couldn’t even show the pain because no one else in my house knew what was happening except the guy, and I wasn’t talking to him. Two days after, I went to pee and felt the clot of blood slip through and I knew it was done. A week after that, I went to the hospital where I had my test done and they said somehow I wasn’t pregnant anymore. My womb was empty and for the first time in such a long time, I could finally breathe.

    Not everybody who has an abortion was raped or did not take the right precautions. Sometimes you just don’t want to be a parent so you do the right thing and let it go.

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    Did you tell anyone in your family about it eventually? 

    The only person who knew in my family was my aunt, the one who bought me the pregnancy tests. She was also the first family member I came out to. I recently told my older brother about it two years ago. He didn’t really care, was just happy I was fine. 

    I don’t plan on ever telling my parents, but if they found out, they’d be disappointed. Eventually, though, they’d be fine. 

    Would you ever want children though? 

    I mean, I probably want a child or two. I had the abortion because I simply did not want to be responsible for anyone. I also didn’t want to rely on anyone and having a child would mean I’d have to lean on either family or friends.

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    And about your sexuality?

    Well, it took a while because I didn’t want to be very conclusive while I wasn’t too sure. Most of my friends now say they wondered why I came out as bisexual cause they apparently all knew I was a lesbian. Now, I use queer because there is one guy I know I genuinely liked. I’m not attracted to him in any way but I just feel like saying I’m a lesbian is diminishing whatever we had then. 

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  • As told to Mariam

    Oyin* reached out to me when I put a call out for women to tell me about the worst thing a friend has done to them. In her message, she said her best friend and girlfriend at the time outed her. I was curious about how that played out and I asked more questions. Here’s what she told me:

    I knew I liked girls since I was a child but I didn’t have an opportunity to explore it until I joined a new school in  SSS 1. On my first day, I recognised Ese*, a classmate from primary school. She remembered me too. We spent the rest of the day together. After that day, we did everything together. We were seatmates in class and we ate together during break time. On the weekends, she came over to my house, and we watched TV. 

    I had come across the word ‘lesbian’ before I met Ese. I knew I liked her more than a friend but I was too scared to say anything to her. One Saturday, we were together at my house watching TV. We were waiting for the commercials to end when she asked if I liked her. I told her I liked her as a friend and she said, “I mean, do you like me as a girlfriend?” I was too shocked to say anything. Then, she kissed me. It was unspoken, but we started dating that day. 

    We dated for about a year, stealing kisses in between classes. Midway through SSS 2, she stopped coming over to my house as often as she used to. One day during break time, I got our food and headed to the spot we always ate. Ten minutes after I arrived at our spot, one of our classmates walked in. He asked why I was sitting there alone, “Are you waiting for Ese?” I was annoyed that he was asking because I knew he liked her but I didn’t want to be rude. I ignored him, and on his way out, he said, “I just hope you have not infected Ese with your lesbianism.” I said it was too late. He rushed to my seat and slapped me, followed by blows to my face. He beat me until I passed out. I woke up in the sickbay where the principal told me I was being expelled for fighting in school. 

    After the incident, Ese stopped talking to me. My classmates pretty much avoided me till we graduated. I thought there was something wrong with me, so I tried to stop liking girls. I got on Facebook and flirted with the boys. In my first year at University, I tried dating a guy. He was dark-skinned, tall with an afro —  the kind of boy the girls in my hostel liked. I knew I wasn’t attracted to him but I indulged him whenever he made moves on me. It dragged on until my second year at the university. Then I came home for the holiday, and I met Tosin*. 

    I was running an errand for my mum in our estate when Tosin passed me on a bike. She stopped after she saw me and came to talk to me. She asked if I lived in the estate and I pointed at my house. We exchanged numbers and she left. The next day, she came over to see me. We talked and walked to her house. We held hands as we walked through the route without street lights. She told me her age, and I told her we were agemates. We talked about school. It was a nice conversation and I didn’t want it to end. 

    We continued to take night strolls from my house to hers. We would take a route that was often deserted. One day, she pulled me to her and kissed me. I felt so good but I was also worried about the few houses around there.  What if someone saw us? She didn’t mind though. 

    Her parents were pretty cool. Tosin told me that they both schooled abroad, so they didn’t mind a lot of things Nigerian parents did. They were excited that she had a friend in the estate and encouraged me to come over often. My mum was also excited that I had made a new friend. Tosin and spent a lot of time together. Sometimes, we just watched TV. Other times, we had hot make-out sessions. 

    One day, we were kissing when her mum walked in. I pulled away immediately but I wasn’t sure if her mum saw us. He asked Tosin to get her something like nothing happened. After Tosin left the room, her mum turned to me and said, “There’s no need to hide. I am a bisexual woman and I used to date women before I got married to Tosin’s father.” When Tosin returned, she told me her mum knew we were dating. It’s still one of my favourite memories to date. I realized that even her dad knew and none of them ever made me uncomfortable. We started to hang out more at her house because I was scared of my mum and my sisters finding out about us. 

    Tosin and I got closer. I went to school and while I was there, we stayed in touch. I couldn’t wait to come home to her. In August 2018, I came home for the holiday. That night, we took a walk around our estate. We held hands and talked about how much we missed each other. When we got to the route we often took, she stopped to kiss my cheeks. Suddenly a man walked past us. I hadn’t realized that he was following us. I became scared but she didn’t seem to care. We fought about it and our walk ended abruptly. She went home, and so did I. 

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    Two weeks later, my mum sent me to the house behind ours to buy pap. The compound was empty when I walked in. As I was figuring out what to do, the man from that night walked in through the gate and locked it. He walked past me into the building and locked the door behind him. I was afraid and I wanted to leave immediately. I knocked on the door of his apartment but he didn’t answer. I could hear him shuffling inside the house. I kept knocking for a few minutes before he opened the door and pulled me inside.

    I screamed as loud as I could when he started hitting me but we both knew no one would hear me over the sound of generators blaring. At some point, I stopped trying to fight back. When he realised I was too weak to move, he raped me. I don’t know how long I was out for but I know when I woke up, he was out of sight. Outside, I could hear someone moving around. My crying must have been loud because the woman I came to see opened the door. She rushed to my side and took me to her apartment where she cleaned me up before taking me home. 

    She didn’t ask any questions and I was grateful to see that my mum was not at home when we got there. I was glad she didn’t tell my mum what happened either. I couldn’t have been able to deal with the reactions that would have come out of it at the time. Tosin came over later that day to check on me as usual but I couldn’t talk to her. She kept pushing, asking me what was wrong and I snapped at her. I told her I didn’t want to be with her anymore and I hated what we were doing. I could see the confusion on her face as she walked out of my room. I was so scared that man would rape her too. In my head, the only way to prevent that was to stop doing what we were doing.  

    I blocked her everywhere and deleted everything that would remind me of her. I didn’t even pick her mother’s calls. I knew they were planning to move back to the UK later that year, so I convinced myself that I was doing the best thing for everyone. 

    Back in school, I returned to dating guys. I went back to my ex-boyfriend. This time, I was determined to feel something for him so I had sex with him. It was such an underwhelming experience for me but I kept trying. A few months later, Tosin’s mum called me. After deliberating for a few seconds, I picked up. She asked how I was doing and I said I was fine. She asked after my mum and siblings as well. Towards the end of the call, she told me that Tosin had died. I screamed. She said Tosin had been sick for a while —  something about her heart. I cried so much that day. I thought of all the times she complained about her chest and I wished I urged her to take it seriously. I became even more depressed in the months that followed. 

    The idea that something wrong with me seeped into everything I did. I felt like if I could correct myself, everything would be fine. Every trail left me feeling worse. I had decided to take a break when I met Emily*. It was a new semester and she was my roommate in the room I was assigned to. She laughed at my jokes and liked to sit on my bed. 

    One day, she asked me if I liked girls. I was too tired to lie, so I said yes. She hugged me and invited me to hang out the following day. I went with her to a lounge where other girls who liked girls gathered. She introduced me to the group and they cooed a welcome. We spent the rest of the day, eating fries and chicken and gisting. On my way home, I remember telling myself, the jig is up, you are a lesbian. In that moment, I wished Tosin was alive so I could call her and apologize — tell her I know I love women and I love her. I cried all the way home. 

    Now I won’t say that accepting my sexuality has cured my depression but I know it’s made me a little lighter. I am even happier knowing there’s a lot of people like me who are done living in shame. 

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  • As told to Mariam

    I put a call out for women to tell me the things that affect their mental health most. In Ada’s* message, she said her parents found out she is queer. I was curious about how that played out and I asked more questions. Here’s what she told me:

    queer

    I am the first daughter of my Igbo family. This means I am expected to act a certain way and live a certain life as my parents’ daughter. They hate that I prefer wearing a T-shirt and jeans to the things other girls wear so my mum buys dresses for me often. She also makes sure I wear makeup before leaving the house because according to her, it makes me more womanly and more likely to find a husband. Even now that I am 26, they still insist on knowing the exact places I’m headed when I leave the house. It’s been difficult to break free from them especially because I am queer. 

    I have always known I liked girls. When I was about 14 years old, my mum had this friend she visited often, who had a daughter called Nkem*. Most times, I went with my mum to her friend’s house so I could see Nkem. She was so beautiful. She was a year younger than me so we bonded fast. We would watch movies, play video games or just talk when there was no light. I found myself drawn to her in a way I didn’t understand. I guess she felt the same way but we both didn’t know how to say it. One day, when I was at her house playing video games, as usual, she kissed me and I liked it. After the kiss, we just stayed there, leaning on the bed frame, holding hands. That was the day I confirmed I was queer. 

    Before then, I thought it was a phase that I would get over. I knew I liked some of the girls in my class in secondary school but I stayed away from them, hoping the feelings would go away. I started dating guys to distract myself but the relationships never lasted. I would kiss them but I didn’t want to do anything else with them. When my friends talked about having sex with their boyfriends and I couldn’t relate because it wasn’t something I even desired. 

    I kept forcing myself to like guys until I got into the university. I thought I had a problem because conversations with guys were always awkward. Trying to get intimate with them was even worse — it didn’t feel right. But talking to girls was easy. In my first year, I had a crush on a girl that lived in my hostel but she was three years ahead of me. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world but I never told her because I was scared of how she would take it. 

    In my second year, I met Isoken*. I liked her and she liked me too. We would always hang out together and if we weren’t able to, we would be texting each other. I knew what we had was love so I brought it up one day and we talked about it. That’s how we started dating. Sex with her was epic — I finally understood what my friends were always gushing about. But we also had our issues. She’s from a religious home and was committed to going to church. Whenever we kissed or had sex, it was bittersweet for her because even though she liked it, she felt like she was sinning against God. One day, she loves me and another day she’s sad because she thinks God is angry with her. I understood it because I was a worker in my church at the time but I had gotten to a point where I knew nothing was wrong with me. I would tell her this but it wasn’t enough. 

    We had to end our relationship after eight months because she couldn’t deal with guilt anymore. I cried for weeks because we had both decided to stay away from each other so we could heal. It felt like hell but eventually, I got over it and was able to be friends with her. I continued dating other women after her until I graduated from university. 

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    Since I returned home from school, my parents have been asking me for a boyfriend. My mum said she has never seen me with a boy before and my dad agreed. I told them I was too busy to sustain a relationship. This excuse worked until sometime during the lockdown. My dad noticed that I had not been wearing the dresses my mum bought me. He asked my siblings if they knew what was going on with me. It was funny to me because they are just clothes. However, one day, I had just returned home when my dad cornered me in the kitchen. He said, “I know you are a lesbian.” Before I could respond, he grabbed my phone. Then he said, “Open it before I slap you.” I did. He went through my pictures. He read my messages with women I was flirting with and some groups I was in with other queer people. He called me a disgrace to our family. He followed me around for the rest of the day calling me names. 

    The next day, he asked me to pray with some bible verses against the spirit of homosexuality. I pretended to so we could move on but that wasn’t the end of the harassment. A few weeks later, my father grabbed my phone again and went through my messages. He slapped me and kept insulting me until it was time to eat. Another time, he used a koboko to flog me, while threatening to kill me, “aka m ka m ga e ji gbuo gi ma obu na I choro I kwusi I bi ndu ndi okpo ntu.” That’s when I knew that I was living with a psychopath.

    What scares me most is how my father doesn’t care about how I feel or what anyone else thinks of how he treats me. I have always been the perfect child — the one with good grades and a calm demeanour. He doesn’t think of that when he is hurting me. He calls me an abomination whenever he gets the chance. On some days, he wants me to go for deliverance to cast the demon out. On other days, he is convinced he can cast it out himself. My siblings can’t do much for me except console me after his rage has subsided but when he’s there, they have to act like they hate who I am too. 

    I have fallen into depression. I have bad dreams where he is beating me nonstop until I wake up. I am now under a form of house arrest. No one can come to visit me and I can’t go out unless I am supervised. They know I’m a strong-willed person and I could run away but where would I go? I am glad I have my phone and I can still talk to some of my queer friends. I made a burner account on Twitter that I log out of often because I realised my dad could be monitoring my main account. I delete texts as soon as they come in so he doesn’t find them. I try not to spend time on my phone when I am in front of my parents or answer any calls so they don’t get suspicious and ask questions. Every day feels just as painful as the one before. I don’t know how I am ever going to leave this hell. 

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