Michael got up as early as 4am, switched on the light and sat up staring at the tattoo on Okafor’s back.
Okafor’s snore beside him was quiet. As gentle as his looks. Michael’s eyes glided over the rest of Okafor’s nude body which was smooth and mildly dark. Okafor was the first full African Micheal had shared a bed with.
The full African breathed heavily and after blinking thrice, shifted his lying posture as his hassle-free bones creaked austerely. ‘Why up so early, honey?’ he asked in a feeble voice.
‘We need to talk.’ Michael’s voice was so sharp inserting chill into the quietness of the room, raising a sort of tenseness in Okafor, who then acquired a similar seated posture.
What’s the matter..?’ Okafor’s Nigerian accent came out strong, one of the qualities Michael had fallen for when they first met in South Melbourne.
‘Who is Sue…? Sue Chong-Xuzin?’
Okafor’s eyes journeyed away from the room for a while. The expression had a handsome covering over his shame.
‘Answer me, Okafor… You lied to me…’
Okafor sprang up from the bed and both of his fingers found his face. Not for shame this time but in regret. His hissing had a depth of sorrow. His frame backed Michael whose own nudity was hidden beneath the counterpane.
After a bitter silence, Okafor slowly walked into the bathroom, and from the room, Michael listened to the shower rain softly.
Michael felt tears surround his heart. He imagined the look on Okafor’s face beneath the shower. He could not measure the hatred that was building up in him against Okafor, and it was just five weeks into their overgrown relationship.
Okafor had told him the last time he had been with a woman, was seven years ago, while Helen Xue, a journalist friend, had confirmed that Okafor had been lying and had had an affair with Sue, a 19 year old Singaporean female, two years ago.
Michael who had never been to Nigeria, but whose parents were Nigerians who had met at the University of Melbourne in the 70’s, had been so contented that someone who shared in his ancestral roots, had fallen in love with him. Michael was indeed contented, despite his actions of never intending to know what Nigeria looked like. Yes, he had heard terrible things about Nigerians. How they made good lives out of scamming people. How their leaders enriched themselves through corrupt drivings. Against the perception that all spades weren’t identical, Michael never thought it unreasonable to investigate Okafor.
Okafor claimed to have come into Australia from Britain, but Helen had documents that proved the Nigerian had arrived from Malaysia, and also belonged to syndicate of drug dealers around Asia.
Sue Chong-Xuzin was unwittingly pushed by Okafor to smuggle drugs into Japan from Singapore two years ago. The 19 year old thought she was just going for a holiday under Okafor’s sponsorship after her first year in the university. She never knew her lover had put 3 kilos of cannabis in her luggage. When she was caught at the airport in Japan, it was like the world had collapsed on her. The lady had been serving a jail term for 4 years now and here was Okafor in Melbourne trying to recruit another trafficker in a new lover.
Okafor came out of the bathroom maintaining the distant look, in addition to a sort of sore frown. His dreadlocks lay calm neatly, the only undistorted feature about him at the moment. ‘Are you going to call the police, now..?’
‘I wouldn’t call the cops. I just have a question to ask.’
Okafor started sorting his clothes out of the wardrobe, folding them into his suitcase.
Michael wanted to ask Okafor if their relationship had been based on love, as once believed. He wanted to ask Okafor why he was denting the name of a motherland that deserved a better image. But instead he asked, ‘Why do you have to choose me as the next puppet in transporting your drugs?’
‘I see you have really dug into my past. Whatever I say now, you would never believe. It is my fault that the past haunts me. I must tell you this. I really loved Sue. I wanted to marry Sue. I had her make that single trip to Tokyo so we could raise money for our lives afterwards. When she was caught, it became hell. I could not do it myself because, as you know, Nigerian passports invite troubles and suspicions… It was a choice made because she had a Singaporean passport and would not be much of a headache passing through the immigration authorities. I swear I did not come after you because you had an Australian passport neither did I come after you because I wanted you to transport drugs… I had to go into hiding after Sue was arrested. I left Singapore for Malaysia. From Malaysia, I was able to get in here… ’
Okafor went on to clear the wind on how he was unable to fall in love with any other woman. He could not declare if his love for Michael was fake or not. It was already so irrelevant in mending the issue.
Michael never knew where Okafor headed after that morning. Never saw him afterwards. When he dialed Okafor’s number four months later, the number was no more in service.
Hmmm..little wonder you started that forum topic…
You’ve painted a picture of gay love ‘dented’ by lies..
Goes to show dat homosexuals feel d same way heterosexuals feel..and dat their sexual preferences don’t mean they are abnormal beings with abnormal feelings..
Somehow I sympathize wit Michael,..to love someone only to find out that just maybe the relationship isn’t as it seems.. Shit happens..
In other news..
His dreadlocks lay calm neatly,..why not just use neatly?..
Well done.. Myles..
Long time!
Nice work.
I like the question this piece raises. Let the readers do some thinking.
Nice piece bro!you really painted the story in a more reasonable.I love the style you adopted.
Well done!
This story was very well written Idoko. I enjoyed it, a lot. I didn’t even feel the usual “off” that male gay stories invoke in me. the characters where alive and their feeling real. Liked that you did not dwell on the sex sha. However there are issues I would advise you take a second look at.
1: “Okafor’s Nigerian accent came out strong,” — There is something that a lot of African writers find themselves doing, and that is writing about Africa/Nigeria as if they are strangers or know the land very little. I am sure that anyone with first hand knowledge of Nigeria would know for sure that there is nothing like “Nigerian accent”, just like there is nothing like “African accent”. You may find it more apt to use the common enough regional variables. Say, “Igbo accent”, “Yoruba accent” or just say his native accent.
2: “The expression had a handsome covering over his shame.” Didn’t get this bit at all. I know you were looking to express something here, but didn’t get what it was. Perhaps this is where you need to be minimal
.
3: “Okafor sprang up from the bed and both of his fingers found his face” “both his hands/palms” you mean?
You are much better than the last time I read you Idoko. More grease bro.
That ‘off’ you did not feel probably came from the absence of ‘love making’ scenes…no?
Gay scam huh.
This is a story with a difference.
Nice.
It’s all been said.
I did think ‘slid’ would have served better than ‘glided’…I’m talking about the intro where Michael was staring at his naked lover’s back.
You write well…and I second that person who said he/she did not experience the ‘off’ that usually comes from reading gay stories…but maybe that’s because there were no love-making/kissing scenes, no? That would have certainly grossed me out.
Nice one.
Ok. gay things. Nice piece.
This’s unique and I like that about it. Well done.
Idoko, I am smiling at this. Hmm, so all those discussions never ended after all…
This proved for a lovely reading. I must say that your writing is far better than I remember. Perhaps it’s time to remix
the Shambles?
Had only one problem…It was at a cluster of some long long complexly complicated sentence:
‘Michael who had never been to Nigeria, ….’ you know the rest…Maybe some breaking would help greatly. Well done bro, we are
proud of you here. Box then?
This was more about dented relationships and Nigerians in the far east and the illegal dealings they get up to. I enjoyed it as such, and the sexuality of the couple was not even an issue. My problem remains your over writing.
his hassle-free bones creaked austerely. – his bones creaked?
who then acquired a similar seated posture. – who also sat up?
Okafor’s Nigerian accent came out strong – his native accent was strong?
Okafor’s eyes journeyed away from the room for a while – scanned the room? he is inside the room so his eyes cannot journey away.
The expression had a handsome covering over his shame – his handsome face was covered with his shame
both of his fingers found his face – both his hands moved to shield his eyes? rubbed his palms over his eyes?
His frame backed Michael whose own nudity was hidden beneath the counterpane – he turned his back on Micheal who was naked under the sheets?
These are my suggestions, but at the end of the day, your style remains yours.
Never had a thing for gay pieces.But you wrote this well.
Well done!!!
Well written….nt just my thing
”Mitchelle got up as early as 4am,bla bla bla…Okafor’s back”. Nice start. Hold Up.. Michael?? Okafor?? U ‘dEnt’ mean it… *whistling and strolling by*
Hmm…though I’m not a stickler for stories with Gay themes, I’ll say you presented the story nicely with a very realistic theme. I am aware of the scourge of Nigerians using Asian girlfriends to traffic drugs – a true menace thats happening especially in places like singapore.
Others have highlighted the little errors that need looking into. This particular statement looks like it might need to be re-thought and re-written:
‘Michael felt tears surround his heart.He imagined the look on Okafor’s face beneath the shower.’
You might want to check it out…I can’t picture the thought of ‘tears surrounding one’s heart’. Sounds like something for poetry and not for this prose. Then imagining the look on Okafor’s face doesnt seem believable. You want to re-phrase it differently.
Thanks so much, my NS family… Without your comments I would be a bit lost walking on a lonely dark path…
Lovely write on the unfamiliar gay affair. Enjoyed the comments too especially Myne’s.
You’ll need to edit your profile in the following: “Myles Idoko Ojabo is a Masters of Creative Writing student at AUT University, New Zealand”.
I believe that is ambiguously incorrect. lol
@Julemyles, the story was very realistic, but I think that the narrative was a bit unstructured. I would have made it clearer that Michael wanted to check out Okafor’s history, so he asked his journalist friend to do some digging, and she told him what she found about Okafor’s girlfriend being in prison. The way you wrote this, it wasn’t very clear.
Then the word usage… you have this:
I would have written this as this:
I liked the ending; clean neat closure of an unhappy experience.