My Gay Experiences Part 4

So maybe I was talking in class, in my defense the lecturer wasn’t audible and my ears are to small to be strained. Also, it was one of those general courses that the whole graduating class offers. I was sitting somewhere close to the front (because I’m a selectively serious student) and the lecturer reading the bio data of the lecturer that was actually going to take the course spotted me and was pointing in my direction. Naturally I sat up and pretended I had been listening the whole time.

When he is done reading the bio data, he welcomes the other lecturer gets off the stage and begins to work towards my direction. I have a good idea of what’s going to happen, or at least I thought I did.

When he gets to where I’m sitting he stops and begins to ask me and the person I was talking to (who happens to be a Princess from Anambra state, or at least we call her Princess, I don’t know who’s traditional royalty anymore).

I bend down, pretend to try and get something out of my bag but I’m actually admiring his pretty cool looking but fake Italian shoes (Disclaimer: I have no way of identifying what real Italian shoes look like, I’m bush like that). So he’s essentially taking to the Anambra Princess (it’s important that you don’t confuse her with a Princess of Warri that I know, who is also in no way related to this story), and I’m window shopping on his feet.

My head was probably down for a few seconds but while its down I sense it’s time to lift if up. As I do that, the mans hand comes slowly but surely too my face. In the few split seconds that it takes his hand to get to my face, I mentally eliminate the possibility of a slap but I’m still clueless and decide to engage facial evasive maneuver.

It doesn’t work at all, his hand latches to my face and begins to toggle my beards. Herein is the problem; I HAD NO BEARDS! He was essentially rubbing my chin and the few strands that the clipper had missed when I shaved, all the while smiling like he was looking at his wife 

After this very awkward ordeal, the Princess of Anambra tells me that he said “fine boy”. Herein is the second problem; HE CAME TO SCOLD ME AND IS NOW CALLING ME FINE BOY!

Therefore, I’ve written this so that for all intents and purposes it would be documented that

I’m not gay

I like women

Although I’m single but no longer searching … Well I like women



We are in church, worshiping the lord but unknown to me a man had been worshiping the lord and gazing at me. After the service ends, I am standing outside waiting for my mum who was performing some ministrations of greetings, when a man works up to me and grabs my hand.

He is looking at me in the eye as if he has something very personal to say. His grip is really tight and I would rather have my hand free. He asks me for my name and at first I am hesitant, because this is all just really awkward. I tell him my name hoping it would get him to leave my hand or at least say what he wants to say a little faster.

Suddenly he has this smile on his face that looks like the Cheshire cat in Alice in the wonderland. It’s also very uncomfortable when a man you don’t know walks up to you, holds your hand and starts smiling.

He spends the next few minutes telling me how handsome I am, how he likes my carriage and on and on. As if God saw the agony in my heart, my mum finishes her greeting ministry and comes to interrupt this “special moment”. She too is puzzled and although she doesn’t show it, she would ask me when we get to the car. Her response to the story was a deep “hmmmm”.

Anyway the man has never disturbed me with that smile again although we’ve met in church countless times, maybe I was a little paranoid that they at church and misread the whole thing or maybe he had a change of heart, only God knows what really happened but I would like to think I was a little bit paranoid. 



We were going to spend a whole 3 weeks in the village last Christmas, with no internet where depending on your network the best way to answer a call was by going outside or putting your phone and speaker and placing it by the window.  We were having some family time. What I mean to say is that we were being bullied by my cousin’s two year old baby.
One night, one of the cooks (I don’t know what he was but he was almost always in the outdoor kitchen) named Crook (not his real name, I wish it was though) sent my younger cousin to call me. It was around 10pm so I was a little surprised.
“Where your phone dey” he asked rather politely but assertively enough to make me wonder whether he was the one that bought the phone for me and determines where I carry it to. “I want to collect the game we talked about?” he continued. I laughed because I remembered that conversation ended with me telling him I didn’t have any game on my phone. Which I didn’t.
Anyways I handed him my phone so he would satisfy his curiosity. I stood there as he examined the phone and my mouth fell open when he surprisingly said “this one no be correct phone nah”. My inner ninja came alive and my leg was already moving for a bicycle kick before the Holy Spirit came upon me and reminded me his phone was Tecno (no disrespect to Tecno). He went on babbling for about three more minutes or so before the anointing left me and I yanked my phone from his hands and walked inside. All my cousins were looking at me wondering what he wanted with me. In typical fashion I responded “Nothing Jare.”
At some point I must have given him my phone number or he collected it while he was bastardising my phone because when we got back to Lagos, I received a message from a strange number late one night on Whatsapp that started with
“Sweetheart Are You Sleeping?”
My mind raced, through all the logical permutations to find who was responsible for this intro. I didn’t answer the message and after 10 minutes the same number called me. It was Crook!
I wanted to collapse. I felt violated. I cant remember what I said but I know the next few days he kept messaging me or trying to call me, telling me
“I want us to be friends”
I ignored as much as I could and eventually told him to stop calling me. I told him I was going to school and wouldn’t come back till August (even though I was fully aware I would be home by May and resume by August). I told him they don’t allow phones my school and was shocked when he offered I smuggle one or find one to call him with. Crook kept rambling on and eventually I just started saying “hello, hello, hello” and cut the phone.
He called back! The guy was determined to toast me, after 3 more rounds of the “hello” treatment, he stopped calling.
I’m still trying to understand what I’m doing wrong because I’m really really straight!

MY GAY EXPERIENCES & Other Stories (Part 1)


Let me first clear the atmosphere. I UgoTalksAlot and all my other personalities are not homosexual, bi-sexual or any other sexual apart from the traditional man and woman sexual (whatever that’s called nowadays).
Secondly, I am writing a novel for some of the weirdest reasons and so I may not be able to blog as I frequently do. Please have mercy and don’t forget me, I know the internet is a very big space, if you are interested in seeing the ever changing manuscript (because I honestly don’t know if I will publish it) just send me a mail at Now into the first of my three part story.
I was a fine baby, if I grew up into a fine young man, it remains to be seen. Some of my friends have told me at one point or another that I have a fairly decent female fan club. Honestly, I don’t believe it because I’ve been single for too long. A lady did send me a message that she wanted to make babies with me but then she disappeared and I later found out she wasn’t single. But every now and then I get approached by men and it is very disturbing.
The first time it happened was when I was in my first year at University, not long after I resumed, a guy at one of the book shops where I was photocopying all those endless registration papers started looking at me funny. He was the guy doing the photocopying.
When it got to my turn, the guy took his time to go through as much of my personal information as he could, from all my nomenclatures to my state of origin and my academic records. After photocopying, the guy said I was from his place and that if I needed anything, I should just let him know. I thought he was interested in getting close to me to begin friendly extortion of my limited allowee and so I began avoided him.
But everyone knows how impossible it is to be fresher doing registration and avoid the photocopy machine. One day he asked that I come see him at the end of the day anytime, which I made a mental note not to.
Unfortunately for me, one day, I had an emergency and I needed a photocopy real quick, it was around 5pm and this man was my only hope. I went there and I was the only one. As soon as I entered, the man locked the door. My heart was racing and I was looking around for what to hit him with if it came to that. I saw a broken part of a chair, and I moved close to it.
The man began to talk to me about how he liked my fingernails, the colour of my tie, how handsome I was, the colour of my tie and all other things. Remaining small the man would have said “I like your shape”.
At one point the man grabbed my hand and was examining it in a very sensual manner. I was vigorously wriggling my hand out of his hand and the man didn’t even seem to notice. I was in full panic mode at this point. How was I going to explain that my first sexual encounter had been at the forceful hands of a 40smth year old man? I wasn’t going to.
I had two options to tell him that I REALLY needed to go or pound his head with a stick. Fortunately he let me go on the condition that I would return. I put up the best fake smile in my arsenal and nearly ran out.
When I would eventually share the story with some of my friends, I found out that he had tried similar stunts with two of them.
I made sure never to return there. I was avoiding him like the plague and rightly so but it was nearly impossible to pull of every time. Eventually whenever we did meet he stopped looking at me funny and I can’t help but wonder who the next victim is?