Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

3 | MASQUERADE

Thankfully, Ossai didn't jest around because he became intrigued when he learned that money was part of the equation, or at least that's the impression I wanted him to have. I retrieved my phone from the bed, ensuring that my other apps were secured and that I had frozen Grindr before Ossai could attempt anything sneaky.

Maxwell's message showed as "read," and a twinge of guilt washed over me because I hadn't replied to his question about whether I was "the guy he met yesterday," as he phrased it. I requested Ossai to engage with him in Pidgin and steer the conversation toward his Yahoo activities. I leaned on Ossai for this, even though it had always been the other way around – Ossai relying on me. Now, I was the one hoping he could reciprocate a favor.

Ossai picked up the conversation from where I had left off. We both sat on the edge of my bed, and I couldn't help but feel awkward just watching over Ossai's shoulder. Ossai was surprisingly skilled at chatting with him. To get over the tension, I stood up and entered my bathroom to brush my teeth. While squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I heard another notification. With the brush in my mouth, I managed to mumble, "What did he say?" Ossai responded, but the sound of running water in the sink made it difficult to catch his words, so I simply replied with a muffled "ok" as I continued brushing.

I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I'd foolishly left Ossai alone with my phone. Worries about him discovering my frozen apps and unfreezing Grindr raced through my mind. I truly wanted to trust him enough not to meddle with any of that. While I was rinsing my mouth, I heard Ossai's voice from the room, saying, "So you still dey do gay?" I almost choked on the water, desperately hoping I'd misheard him, but as I turned off the tap, dried my mouth with a towel, and stepped out, I found him engrossed with my phone, and I stared right at him.

As I approached Ossai, he handed my phone back to me, saying, "The guy dey do all these gay yahoo work." His words lacked a detailed explanation, but a quick glance through the exchanged messages shed some light on the situation.

Things began to click for me. Maxwell impersonated the gay men he followed on the internet to defraud gullible white queer men. It seemed likely he wanted to replicate a similar scheme with Nigerians, possibly using Mr. Utomi's account.

"So you want to follow him and do?" Ossai's questioning irritated me.

"Didn't you come here to collect gas?" I gestured toward my kitchen, instructing him to take it. He walked past me, grabbed it, and headed for the door. "Don't forget to return it, o" I reminded him as he left.

I still hadn't finished my conversation with Maxwell. I had to come up with an excuse, so I quickly told him I had to leave for class, mentioning attendance being taken at the end, which ended up in my favor, because my response also prompted him to remember his own class, and when he found out I was attending the same one, he asked me to take attendance for him. Everything seemed to be falling into place for me.

...

Inside the 1000 seater lecture theater, I sat there with my earphones in with no music playing, contemplating whether I had locked my door when leaving home. I distinctly recalled locking it after retrieving my gas from Ossai in the compound, but I couldn't quite remember if I'd done the same when heading to class. The constant movement and noise of people coming and going around me certainly didn't help me concentrate on my thoughts.

As the lecture start time approached, more students streamed in. My attention was drawn to the back, as that's where most people entered from. When I turned to face forward, I noticed Kennedy walking up the middle row I was in. I mentally prepared the excuse that the empty seats beside me were already occupied, but to my embarrassment, he wasn't heading my way, but instead to a girl seated behind me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at my own folly.