Friday, 14 August 2015

Strong Girl: Mine is an Untitled Story

Mine is an untitled story. A story of many faces, that it can't be titled as no phase needs get more attention than the other.

It is a story of being called 'O me ka nwanyi', (a boy who behaves like a girl) as early as when I was a pupil in nursery school, as early as before I was five. A story of my teachers getting tired of punishing my then classmates for making jest of me and calling me derogatory names because of my effeminacy. Then I cried everyday in school because my classmates knew which chords to strike to bring those tears out.

It is a story of having to know the meaning of the word, 'homosexual' at age eleven because people called me that in school and even in the streets. It may sound funny and perhaps unbelievable that I also got to know what the words, 'gay' and 'fag' mean because people also called me that. It is a story of someone calling me hermaphrodite right before my face smilingly and mockingly. A story of someone meeting me and the first thing he said to me was, 'queer'.

It is a story of being a pedophile 'victor', a secret my family would only know if they read this. It is a story of being an attempted rape statistics, something I have to bury inside me, afterall boys don't get raped. A story similar to that of Joseph and Potipher's wife. But like Joseph I was found guilty. Only that I was lucky not to be thrown into the prisons like Joseph was, but my phone paid the price. A story of being seen as vulnerable, weak and easy to bully. It is a story of fighting to protect my dignity and to be strong and to be nobody's toy. It is a story of fear, praying fervently that I don't become victimized as Ms. Sahhara was while in Nigeria before she became transgender in Europe. A story of living life in fear of intimidation.

Mine is a story of having few friends as nobody wants to associate with the effeminate guy, after all, he is gay. Even the few friends hardly feel very comfortable with me, at least not in every where. It is a story of people telling me in my face how they hate and scorn me. It is a story of being popular for nothing, of having to manage a dozen eyes looking and starring at me each time I walk by the street because I catwalk.

It is a story of letting up on some of my dreams because all the hands that I would need turned me down. As they think that I am neither man enough nor human enough to pursue and run those dreams. The stigmatization and unnecessary attention doesn't help matters either. It is a story of having not to attend certain programmes and parties I would have wanted to attend because I am considered unfit, being effeminate. A story of a forced 'introvercy'. A story of waking in the middle of the night to cry my eyes out, at what a 'bad' life nature gave me, a life scorned by almost everyone around me. Praying at other times for a better life. A story of feeling abnormal, just like every one assumes me to be.

Mine is a story of having to be someone else at some points because me is seen as evil and me is hated. A story of wanting to express myself, but I dare not because my gestures would be mocked, my voice laughed at and my esteem shaken.

It is a story of having to learn to find love within, and not be bound by the gay label which comes with effeminacy. It is a story of wishing that being effeminate could stop being tough. It is a story of not loving me at some points, wishing to swap myself with some other dude. A story of being in fear of what I would be like, if I weren't effeminate. It is a story of finding love for myself even when surrounded by hate. It is a 'strong girl' story, a story of victory and triumph over that which I can't control. 

Mine is the Victor Ugoo Njoku story, the untitled story.

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#Perfection
#TheEffeminatestory

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