‘Certified Homosexual’ for Being Different
Pointing at a black manImage Credit: The Sacramento Observer I met a lady on my way home and complimented her hair. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was engulfed in a memory I shelved a while back. It was early 2016 and I had just moved to Lagos. To welcome me to town, my friend – and her friends – took me out for ice cream and pizza. When we got to the spot and it was packed full, we had to wait on this really long queue. I offered to stay on the ice cream queue while they got the pizza. A lady was behind me and something made her bump into me. I turned and saw she was a beautiful, classy looking girl. Yes, in the two seconds I looked at her, I digested all of that. What was most interesting however was her attitude; she was very polite and apologetic. I smiled back and told her it was okay. In no time, we struck a conversation about the ice cream flavors as we waited to get to the front of the line. Just as we got to our turn, my friends returned and we ordered. Because we were ordering for four, the girl behind me was done with her order before ours was ready. As she turned to leave, we waved at me and walked away. I was so impressed at her charming behavior that I didn’t notice my friend giving me a look. She scuttled closer to me and asked if the girl was my friend. I said I had just met her and described the situation of our ‘meeting’. My friend looked at me long and hard and said, ‘you need to be careful oh. This is Lagos. Look at how friendly she was. I thought you guys were old friends. You better be careful because girls like that are certified lesbians.’ I was shocked to my bones. I looked at my friend in the hope that she was joking but her expression told me all I needed to know. I asked her why she would say that and she insisted she knew what she was talking about. I let it go but the memory stayed with me for a while. Soon enough, I started asking myself if the girl had truly been hitting on me. Apart from the friendliness, there was nothing untoward about our exchange. We basically just talked ice creams and the service of the people at the creamery. All these happened in less than five minutes. If she was flirting, wouldn’t she at least have asked for my number? Before shelving the thought into my memory, I concluded my friend was jaded and it really wasn’t her fault. She had lived in Lagos longer than I did and had heard stories. But even more than that, she has grown to accept certain stereotypes about women. If, at first glance, these women didn’t fit into the accepted norm, they needed to be boxed and labelled in the ‘do not touch or associate with’ category. It was not the first time I had been told to be wary of overly friendly girls. Even I had been told to stop being overly friendly. Reminds me of when I was younger and a super friendly ‘tomboy’. I really hate that word because it seems to say we are abnormal when all we just do what comes naturally to us. Anyway, EVERYONE was my friend! People liked me and I liked them in turn. It was very normal for people to come visiting or for me to go to their homes. My parents tried to make me conform to their definition of me but when their backs were turned, I always went back to the real me. One day, an older lady called me to her house and told me that I needed to stop dressing like a boy and being so friendly because that was how lesbians behaved. She preached for long and when I left her room, I felt so dirty and ashamed that I went out in search of my first girlie clothes. Like my friend, the woman had been conditioned to think in boxes. Girls had to be a certain way or be labelled bad. So I asked myself, what if the lady at the restaurant was a lesbian? Does that make her less human? Is she unworthy of my conversation? Is she carrying a communicable ‘disease’ of lesbianomania? Plus, telling me to be wary felt like I couldn’t be trusted to make my own decisions about my sexuality, like a simple conversation was going to convert me into the grand dame of lesbians in Africa. I must admit that this isn’t just a female matter; it affects guys too. When a man does things that are not like the rest of his gender, he has to be gay. God forbid that a man is a makeup artist, a fashion designer, a model, an interior decorator, a chef or one who just likes to look good. Woe betides that man whose fashion sense is amazing or who dares to wear pink. In fact, a man who knows the difference between beige and plum should be thrown into homosexual jail. Be openly romantic and face the wrath of the gods. Hate sports and be stoned. Cross-dress and have people refuse to be on a panel with you. Want to be certified homosexual? Be different from the norm! I think this has to stop and soon! We cannot continue to label people homosexuals just because they are different from our accepted form of behavior. Everyone is different. Everyone has their own view of life and it is unfair – and quite frankly mean – to try to make people conform to yours. When you put people in a box, you close yourself to the possibilities they have. One of the greatest things I heard Aries Spears say is that ‘everyone
The Men Who Snitched on Their Gender
Picture: BLACK WOMEN OF BRAZIL I woke up this morning with the thought of one of the shows I did on television. We had this business mogul on the show and he was talking about business principles for success. Just as we were rounding up, he asked us to let him say something. It went something like this; ‘I am the man I am today because I have a very wonderful wife. If she isn’t in my life, I probably wouldn’t have reached this success level I am enjoying today. What most people don’t know is that she isn’t good at business but she is a great idea churner. Almost every venture I have turned into a lucrative money-making business is an idea my wife whispered to me. She is the idea and I am the execution. That is why we are so successful. Men, learn to respect the women in your lives. They hold the key to your success.’ After our cooing and awwwing, we wrapped up the show and went out of the studio. When we went into our office for the post show discussion, I couldn’t help but notice that some of my colleagues were laughing at our guest. I wondered what it was about but didn’t bother to ask. As we proceeded with our analysis of the day’s performance, we got to the issue of the business mogul and next thing you know, one of my very vocal colleagues shouted, ‘That man has been pussy-whipped’. This drew some laughter from those who understood what he meant and blank faces from those who didn’t. It prompted a gender debate and we jokingly discussed the importance of women. My colleague didn’t let go of his opinion. He kept saying, ‘That man is such a snitch!’ I asked him what he meant by that and he said men who let their women ‘control’ them are snitches on their gender and that men are supposed to be ‘manly’ and behave a certain way. I remember that I looked at my colleague and imagined how a person could be so ignorant! So, because a man praises his wife and respects her, he has snitched on his gender? As I pondered on that incident, I thought of other men who could be said to have ‘snitched’ on their gender. Here is a list; 1. The Men Who BELIEVE In the Equality of the Sexes: you know how women are supposed to be less than men and thus, defer to them? Yeah, there are men who don’t believe so! These men understand that gender equality doesn’t negate the roles of each sex but accepts that we are human first before we are our gender. They believe that women and men should have equal access to education, healthcare, life choices, job opportunities, same pay, leadership positions, promotions, dignity of person and of ideas. These men get incensed when women are treated less than men are because of their sex. Know a man like this? When you see him on the road, this is what you should say to him. ‘You bloody wonderful snitch’! 2. The Men Who HELP Out In the House: in this world of men sitting down and watching football while their mothers/sisters/wives slaves in and around the house, finding that man who helps around the house is such a breath of fresh air. I went to stay with a family recently; a mother, her daughter and son. I woke up to help out with chores only to see that the guy had done almost everything. He cleaned the house, did the dishes, washed the cars and prepared breakfast. I was like, ‘Dude, where are you from?!’ He laughed and told me he had to prepare for work. I asked about his mum and his sister and he told me his mum was down with fever and his sister wasn’t a morning person because she worked nights. So he took care of the house and when his sister got up, she didn’t have to do all the work in the house. I looked at him straight in the eye and said, ‘will you marry me?’ Such a snitch! 3. The Men Who would NEVER Hit A Woman: women, you know how we can get very blabber-mouthed when we quarrel with people right? How we go for the jugular? Where we just want to eviscerate a person? Well…I am not one of such women! (Hey! Don’t vex na! I am just playing! Chai! Okay…okay…I confess. I am THAT person!) There was this day I quarreled with a dear friend…(what now?! Stop giving me that side eye. Okay! Okay! Insert boyfriend)…and I was really mad. We had never gone at it like that before. Usually, when I am mad at him, I just walk away because I know my mouth is razor-sharp. On this day however, all the claws were out and drawing blood. My alter ego came out and looked at me and quite frankly, if I was him and I was listening to the things I had to say, I would have descended on me. Have you watched Kung Fu Hustle? Trust me, the slaps would have been that fast! Anyhoo, I could see that he was about to explode and I didn’t stop. He walked away and guess what? I followed! I started pulling him at, tugging at his shirt and spewing my venom. Reading this, you would think I wanted to get beaten but the truth was, I was dealing with rage issues and I couldn’t reason clearly when the anger got to a certain point. One final tug and gbam! He punched! He hit the metal door away from my face. After the sound of bone hitting metal, the silence was deafening. I had pushed him to the point where he raised his hand but he still wouldn’t hit me. He preferred to injure himself –
