Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

3 | MASQUERADE

Lying on my bed, my mind was swamped with various thoughts racing through it. I hadn't sent a text to Maxwell ever since he shared his number. I pondered on how to initiate a chat with him. I figured a straightforward "good morning" might work, but it felt a bit peculiar. I kept in mind that I had to keep the Pidgin vibe going; I had no clue how long I'd have to keep up the act, but it was necessary if I aimed to get closer to Maxwell and Mr. Utomi's case.

A little past seven, Maxwell came online, and I found myself staring at the empty WhatsApp chat screen. If he already had my number, he would've seen "typing" but no message to show for it. After some contemplation, I settled on a simple "how far?" without bothering to introduce myself. I aimed to keep it concise. To my surprise, Maxwell replied faster than I had anticipated with a "I'm good, you?" He didn't inquire about who I was, so I assumed he was expecting my message. I still wanted to confirm who I was before proceeding.

While I was typing away, a knock at my door broke my concentration. Initially, I thought about ignoring it and continuing, but the person knocked once more, and I recognized who it was. I abruptly sat up, causing my phone to fall onto the bed. It bounced and settled, with the WhatsApp page still visible. I reached for a purple polo from the plastic chair in front of the table beside my bed and hastily put it on to cover my chest, all while still in my pajama bottoms.

I swung the door open to find none other than my cousin, Ossai, standing there. He was like the roommate I never had and never wanted. Similar to me, he hadn't bothered to take a shower yet, still sporting a white see-through vest that showcased his chocolate skin. I obstructed the entrance, my body partially blocking the doorway, while I kept the door ajar, waiting for Ossai to explain himself.

"Thank God, you're still at home!" Ossai exclaimed, I kept looking wanting him to finish. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?" He asked, sounding as if he genuinely cared.

"You are." I responded flatly.

"Any boy inside?" Ossai tilted his head, attempting to peer past me into my room, a reminder of his obnoxious nature. I stepped away from the door, providing him an unobstructed view, confirming that no one was inside. He entered with his dusty slides. I pointed it out, and he pulled it off just by the entrance.

"Don't you have lectures today?" Ossai asked.

"Yes, by 10AM"

"Oh ok I came to collect gas" Ossai paused and waited for my consent, as though he didn't usually help himself to it.

Just as I was trying to handle Ossai's intrusion, a notification from my phone chimed in at the worst moment. And knowing how annoying Ossai could be, especially since I naively came out to him during our childhood, he had made it his lifelong mission to pester me about it. I definitely didn't want him badgering me about the person I was conversing with.

Ossai was shockingly not interested in knowing who texted, he was more keen on taking my gas he came to collect. But as he started walking toward the pathway to my kitchen, I stopped him. This was perhaps one of the rare moments I considered letting Ossai in on something. Ossai was the one who always questioned why I wasn't making any money, even though he was the one who kept coming to me for various needs. So, I figured that since I had a connection with a yahoo boy, it might pique his interest, as he had a fascination with such things. Besides, I was clueless about how to converse with yahoo boys, so I could use his assistance.

I began, "There's this guy..." and immediately noticed Ossai's smug expression, as if he thought I had found a boyfriend. I swiftly dismissed that idea, saying, "Don't be foolish." Then I clarified, "He's a yahoo boy. I got his number yesterday, and I'm not sure how to talk to him, but I think you know the scopes when it comes to these things." No matter how hard I tried to convey the message, it still sounded rather questionable.