Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

ARC TWO: 8 | CLOSET CASE

Another school week began, and as usual, mine really started on Tuesdays. After finishing my bath, I hurried out of the bathroom, towel snug around my waist. Swiftly slipping into my boxers, I then proceeded to start moisturizing.

I grabbed my phone from the bed, using its camera as a makeshift mirror since I couldn't afford one, while I brushed my hair. Glancing at the time, I realized I had plenty of time before my 10 AM class. Despite wanting to make the most of it, I hurried because Sewa was joining me for class, and I didn't want her to find me unprepared.

I continued my preparations in a haphazard order. Before finishing brushing, I put on joggers. My mind was shuffling between what top would go with them as I put it on. I brought my phone back up to my face to continue brushing. That's when my reflection paused on the screen, and I knew a call was intercepting. It was Sewa. I hung up the call, assuming she was already close. I opened my door and peeked my head out, with the rest of my body hiding behind the door frame because I was still shirtless and didn't want any passerby getting a look at my bare chest. Finally, Sewa came into my sight. I moved away from peeking my head and closed the door behind her as she walked inside.

I felt a bit uncomfortable that Sewa had to see me without a shirt, although it wasn't the first time. She settled on my bed, placing her purse beside her, and I marveled at how it managed to carry her notebook and essentials. Sewa glanced at me, clearly expecting that I would have been ready since I'd fibbed about it when she last called. "I'll soon be done," I reassured her, rifling through my wardrobe. I pulled out a plain green shirt on a hanger, turning it around to reveal a black and white poster on the back, then asked Sewa, "What do you think?"

"It's okay," her response wasn't quite what I had anticipated. I started to take the shirt off. "It looks good on you, I like the design," Sewa kept saying, hoping I'd leave it on. "You don't know fashion," Sewa remarked after I had completely removed the shirt.

"Sorry, mom." I said, her voice reminiscent of my mother's tone.

"You wish you came out of my vagina" Sewa retorted.

"Oh my-" I burst into laughter midway through my sentence, taken aback by her unexpected comment. She joined in as well.

I settled on wearing the shirt but layered a black hoodie over it, matching the black joggers. By now, black on black had become my usual color choice.

"Until cultists catch you." Sewa quipped, teasing about the stereotypical color coding.

The grin that appeared on my face quickly disappeared when I remembered why I wanted to while away my time again. I was afraid of running into Investor after his message kept replaying in my head: "I no wan catch you with my babe." I was also scared of having to avoid Prudence or the possibility of running into Maxwell in class after how things ended, especially since he hadn't reached out to me since then.

Sewa could already tell that something was swamping my thoughts, so I asked to talk about what was troubling me "Were you on the cruise group when they did anonymous on Saturday?"

"Am I even still on the cruise group?" I couldn't discern if Sewa's question was rhetorical or a jest, as I had presumed she was among the anonymous messengers. "What did they say?" Sewa asked.

"They claimed we were in a relationship and now I have eyes on prudence, because of that investor said he should not see me anywhere near his babe" I intentionally omitted the whole back and forth on LGBT people.

Sewa began chuckling, reclining on the bed, her hand covering her mouth as she intermittently apologized between each pause. After composing herself, she adjusted her facial expression and reassured me, "We'll be alright" patting her hand before checking to ensure her bun remained intact. She had already undone her locs, now wearing her natural hair. I grabbed my crossbag containing my ID card, and Sewa picked up her purse, getting up from the bed.