Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

19 | NO HONOUR AMONG YAHOO BOYS

Maxwell's POV

Six weeks ago, I logged into Tony Utomi's account on my phone for the first time. My hostel's generator had just been turned on, allowing me to reconnect to the WiFi. Seated on the lower bunk bed near the entrance, I moved into the darker corner to stay unnoticed. My roommates knew not to disturb me when I was online.

Madrid was watching a live match on his phone, munching on Meshayi (bread and fried eggs). Kunle, meanwhile, was wandering around in his boxers, his belly bloated from heavy smoking, carrying a bucket and ready to bathe. When he approached to ask me something, he paused and kept quiet upon seeing that I was busy with my phone.

I needed to carefully study Tony Utomi's speech pattern before attempting to scam a potential client, but I was short on time. With the burdens people had placed on me, I was in dire need of funds, and money could easily sort everything out. In the meantime, airplane mode was a temporary fix to prevent them from contacting me.

The most recent contact Tony had was with a deleted account, but their conversation had been lengthy enough for me to analyse his speech pattern. From what I gathered, Tony and the unidentified account had a situationship, and like all situationships, it ended poorly for both sides. The messages were filled with crying emojis, indicating genuine sadness rather than laughter, as it was commonly used for. This was something I needed to remember for future reference. I took breaks to switch to my other fraudulent accounts to engage with clients, finding it easier to create any speech pattern I wanted, except when communicating with clients who spoke foreign languages.

Investor preferred that I didn't waste precious time with other clients; he wanted me to take charge of impersonating Tony because I understood the scopes of being gay. Since he wasn't available, I switched between accounts, trying to multitask.

A voice I had been avoiding, both on the phone and in person, called out from outside the dorm room, "Maxwell dey inside?" Rasheed asked, Madrid quickly put down his phone and stood up to block the door, falsely claiming that I wasn't in. Kunle, who was half-naked, joined him to completely cover the entrance.

The way they questioned Rasheed outside was making it difficult for him to believe I was out.

"Me and am get personal business" Rasheed said when they offered to pass his message on to me.

I waited to hear Rasheed walk away before getting back to what I was doing, but instead, I heard someone else join him outside-it was Investor. Investor asked Rasheed to step aside with him, and from what I overheard, I believed he wanted to settle things with him.

I tried to distract myself by going back to Tony's chats, but it wasn't helping. I considered leaving the hostel for a while, but Rasheed would catch me on my way out. When Madrid and Kunle finally left the doorway, I got nervous, thinking Rasheed could easily walk in and find me hiding. But I had to calm myself down, reminding myself that I owed Rasheed nothing. As I returned to the phone, I saw a notification that Tony's account had been logged into from a Tecno phone. The day for the owner had come, and I hadn't even used it up to a day myself.

Investor walked in through the door, and I stood up, preparing myself for the worst, expecting Rasheed to follow, but he didn't. Investor assured me, "Rasheed no go disturb you again" as he shook my hand. "He don already handle the matter himself." That was all he said, and even though I had questions, I didn't ask. I was just relieved to finally have that heavy burden lifted off my shoulders.