Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

13 | PREY OR PRAY

Why didn't I know better? I didn't think to inspect Maxwell's phone right away due to my overwhelming excitement. My head was clouded, and I failed to verify if Maxwell had kept his promise. It was just a day since I got the phone, and I hadn't even noticed the Facebook app on the interface. I genuinely wanted to trust Maxwell, believing him, but it was my mistake to trust a yahoo boy.

I was clueless about escaping the predicament I stumbled into. The officer kept going through Mr. Utomi's Facebook for more damning evidence. Whenever I tried to assist him with using the device, he distanced himself, suspecting I might snatch my phone and make a run for it. I stood a few feet away, observing the officer, I caught his name "NJoku" off his uniform, incase of any trouble. But, in a lawless country, there was limited I could do with it, especially when authorities showed no care for people like me; instead, they tended to cause us more harm.

My hands were nervously pinching each other, and my body trembled, but I tried to hide it. I struggled under pressure, couldn't even turn to check on Investor and Prudence in the car. I wondered if they caught wind of what was happening; would they still allow me to go with them? The paranoia of how it might alter my life consumed me.

“Who is this person?” The officer thrust the chats between Mr. Utomi and the deleted account in front of me.

Not sure how to reply, I quickly blurted out, “I don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?” Officer NJoku yelled. I swallowed hard, feeling only surface-level embarrassment.

I couldn't grasp what he wanted me to say about something I genuinely didn't know. I realized no explanation would rescue me, as he was convinced I was using Mr. Utomi's account to 'do gay'. A bit of attention would reveal the account hadn't been used in years, but I doubted that was sufficient for my case with him.

"14 years!" Officer NJoku clicked his tongue. I felt inundated with the blatant homophobia, reminded of the frightening reality of being gay in Nigeria. Despite all my efforts to avoid anything leading to this, meeting Maxwell took my life down a one-way road to such a situation.

Officer NJoku's expression alternated between disgust and shock. "You don't know this group too?" He displayed the gay group I had initially seen when I accessed Mr. Utomi's account. He swiped back to the chats between Mr. Utomi and the deleted account, scrolling through the links exchanged between them—posts from the group. Despite his fast scrolling, I stood frozen, picking up the little I saw, unable to provide a response.

I pondered his ultimate goal, realizing he mainly aimed to waste my time, becoming quite tiresome. Even Investor grew weary and stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him, startling me. I didn't turn to look. "Oga, what's the issue?" Investor asked from across, not sounding impolite. "Ask your friend," Officer Njoku directed the question at me, leaving me still, unsure how to explain to Investor. Prudence also got down, I could hear her turning around from the right side of the car. "Ehis, what's happening?" I heard my name, and I couldn't ignore them. I turned halfway, extending one folded hand toward the police officer, muttering unclearly and shrugging. I did manage to say something like, "I don't know what he's doing..." but it wasn't audibly clear even for me to confirm.

“You don't know you're spoiling your future.” The officer grimaced his ugly dark face at me. “You think your parents will be happy with what you're doing?” It stung that he spoke of me this way without really knowing me. I still couldn't comprehend what he was accusing me of since he couldn't find anything substantial. I wasn't offering any explanation either. I knew he wouldn't let me off easily, but involving my parents was something I wanted to avoid. I'd rather die than have my father see me differently forever because his elder son was gay or risk causing my mom a heart attack if she found out.