He was a Snob

Photo credit:artstation

When having a crush was a thing, I had a huge one on him. He was an altar boy in church and whenever he served at Mass, I didn’t want Mass to end. I would watch his every move on the altar and hope that by some chance he noticed me in the congregation.

He was chocolate skinned and had the thickest eyebrows planted beautifully on his oval face, that kind of face that looked good with the punk haircut. He was always so energetic in everything; football after catechism classes, gisting with his friends, singing with the other kids and while he served at Mass. 

I knew that there were many of us girls who looked forward to seeing him every Sunday. He was simply a delight to watch in his long robe which he wore with a lot of pride and a little bit of arrogance. 

It always bothered me that he seemed to never notice me no matter how hard I tried to catch his attention. He neither  smiled nor waved back at me and was never as eager as the other guys were to get close to me. While other boys swarmed around the girls like bees, Uche seemed oblivious of our existence. He looked at his friends with disgust whenever they preferred to play with girls and I hated that he acted that way, perhaps he knew how good looking he was and the effect he had on the girls. Uche was a big snob. 

He was a few years older than me and it appeared that that little age gap meant a lot to him, because the first time I summoned the courage to say hi to him, he spoke to me like I was a hundred years younger than him. He looked at me like I was a little girl who had come asking for candies, then managed a smile and said “kedu?”

Kedu simply means “how are you?” and shouldn’t be a problem but when it is said in a certain way, especially by a young chap like him, it sends a wrong signal like, “I’m not your mate” or “I don’t have time”. On that day, the kedu that Uche said to me meant both and I was disappointed, however, that did not stop me from crushing on him. 

I unintentionally found out where he lived on a certain day while I walked back from the church. I took another route and I saw someone that looked like him leaning against a car in front of a house, when I got closer it was him and he was shirtless, so he was definitely at home. 

I became confused about what to do as I approached him; do I wave, say hello or smile?

I wasn’t sure what to do till I git to where he was  and he put me out of my misery by waving at me first. I smiled all the way home!

I still do not know why I showed no interest in being a part of the “Atiliogwu” dance group in the church then but I looked forward to attending the dance launch in church especially knowing that I would get to sit at the front row with mother because she was invited as a special guest and as one of the dance patronesses. 

On that day, the church compound was abuzz with activities and everyone waited with excitement for the dance to begin, the beat of the dance came first and majestically, the troupe danced into the arena on a single file with the lead dancer in front moving in a rhythmic motion, the best I'd ever seen; the crowd went wild; clapping and cheering. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off the lead dancer and I imagined that I was the one with such skills; I immediately regretted that I missed an opportunity to learn how to roll my waist and move my body in that manner, it was simply beautiful to watch.  

Mother gave me some naira notes to go and put on the foreheads of my favourite dancers and I knew just where to put my money, I was transfixed when my favourite dancer turned out to be my crush Uche. How on earth did he get those hips that he swung so perfectly as he danced?

He saw the look on my face and gave me his best smile ever and came closer to me dancing even better in gratitude for my generosity. From my seat, I watched him some more, I saw no other dancer but him; he was everybody’s delight. He danced even better than the girls and won so many hearts on that day, I had never seen him so cheerful and I liked him even more.

 

His street became my frequent route to anywhere, I found the smallest excuse to pass through his house even if it made my journey longer; I would do anything for just a glimpse of him.

One fateful Saturday morning, I wore a nice pair of leggings and a long t-shirt, (those were my Saturday clothes) with sandals to match my t-shirt and took off on an errand which should not have taken me through Uche's street but I took that route anyway and walked into a mob.

 

A group of guys were at a spot shouting on top of their voices, some had sticks while others held  stones. I heard some shouting, “just kill the useless boy”, "bagger" “idiot”, “animal”, “baboon”. I was curious to find out what was going on and who was in the middle of the chaos but those young men looked so angry and I knew it was better to leave that vicinity.  While I hurried off I looked out for Uche and I saw someone that looked like him among the angry youth, but his back was turned away from me and so I slowed down a bit to see if he could just look my way and wave at me but he was too angry to indulge me and so I scurried along. 

I reckoned that Uche was off to school when I stopped seeing him in the church and it pained me each time I passed by his house and there was no glimpse of him.

I gradually got used to not seeing him, the disappointment I felt slowly vanished and I eventually accepted that he wouldn’t come home in a long time. 

Several months later as I walked past his street with a friend, she pointed at the house that was once special to me and asked if I heard what happened to one boy that used to live there. I guessed it was Uche but acted like I didn’t know who she was talking about even after she told me that he led the Atiliogwu dance troupe. I wanted to hear everything she had to say about Uche. 

He was the target of the mob, he was caught with another guy making out, the other guy escaped but Uche refused to run; he was gay and ready to face the outcome. His neighbour saw him with the other guy that morning and noticed that there was something unusual about the guy's visit to Uche. He was home alone in their three bedroom flat, his parents were both traders and already in the market that morning while his only brother was out playing with friends.  

His neighbour told a popular guy in the neighbourhood what he suspected and they all stormed to Uche's house. As soon as he opened the door, they pushed him aside and went straight to his bedroom where his lover lay naked on the bed. He pleaded with them to let him dress up. 

Uche had on only his boxers; it was obvious that they were in the middle of a steamy one. 

The guy who was older than Uche slipped through them as soon as they were dragged out of the house and made a getaway. 

Uche was beaten and humiliated, the guy I had believed to be him on that day was not him, he was in fact in the target of the mob on that day. 

Uche's parents moved out of the neighbourhood because they could not bear the shame of their son's strange sexual orientation. After I learnt of what happened to Uche, a lot of things began to make sense. 

I’ve never forgotten him and never will.