Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

ARC ONE: 1 | HOPELESS ROMANTIC

Thirty minutes past, and I hadn't received a message back after I double texted. I found myself repeatedly glancing at the back entrance of the lecture theater, hoping to spot Kennedy. There was this nagging suspicion that I might've overlooked him slipping into the class. My eyes scanned the leftmost row of seats, from top to bottom as they descended along the stairs. The entire place was buzzing with students chatting and moving around because our lecturer hadn't shown up yet. It was quite a challenge trying to spot him in the midst of all the commotion.

Sewa caught my gaze from where she sat, beside me, curious about why I kept glancing around. I hesitated to burden her with my concerns, but when she inquired, I opened up, saying, "It's about this guy I've been texting. He said we should meet up in class, but I can't seem to find him now."

She went on to suggest that I should send him another text, but it was awkward to admit that I had already sent two messages without a reply. "You double-texted, and he didn't reply?" She asked, noticing the embarrassed look on my face, which pretty much answered her question. To justify myself, I explained that the first message was more of an update about me being in class, not necessarily requiring a response, and the second one was me asking about his whereabouts.

"Maybe he hasn't seen it, or has he?" She seemed convinced that there had to be an explanation for his lack of response. I wanted to believe that too. When I anxiously checked my phone for a message, my heart raced with anticipation, wishing that the new notification was from Kennedy. But it was just Wilfred asking about my spare apartment key, and I responded with less enthusiasm than I had hoped.

Kennedy had indeed seen the message, but I wasn't about to give up my quest to find him. After examining the entire left row, I shifted my attention to the middle row, but his face remained elusive. I had to readjust my position, swiveling myself to face the right row I was seated in. I rested my right hand on the chair's backrest and looked up, searching for any sign of Kennedy, yet he remained hidden. Disheartened, I redirected my gaze downward and briefly paused to check if Sewa was still watching me, but to my relief, she was engrossed in her own studies.

I turned my attention back to the middle row, this time noticing our coordinator, Prudence, stood in the front. I leaned in to listen, assuming she was speaking to the hall, but she was actually just showcasing herself to the boys in the front rows. She confidently strutted back and forth like a model, her hands resting on her waist, dressed in an elegant white corporate shirt and black trousers. Her neatly styled bob wig stayed perfectly in place as she moved. She truly was a captivating sight of beauty.

The guys gave her a round of applause, they respected her, likely influenced by her relationship with her well-off boyfriend. They treated her as if she were one of the boys. She was consistently amicable when she was with the guys, but we never had the chance to become close friends. In an alternate reality where we didn't attend the same secondary school, we could have become great friends in university. But, she was my senior during our time in secondary school, and now that we were both in our first year at university together, it felt a bit awkward.

A boy in front, made some off hand comment about Prudence's plus size that I didn't quite catch from the fourth row I was seated in. It was startling to witness someone utter such words. This remark grabbed Sewa's attention, prompting her to inquire about what the boy had said, but I couldn't make it out either. Prudence, however, clearly heard it and fired back, saying, "and you wonder why some girls run to lesbianism, when boys like you would be body shaming them" .

Instead of backing Prudence and confronting the boy, her male friends engaged in a different discussion, debating why lesbians are lesbians.

"Na lie! Na the ones wey fine pass be lesbians."