Just Be

“You can just be like other lesbians in Nigeria”, Bee said, “still be married to a guy and do your thing on the side without ending your marriage”. I will never forget those words on that sunny afternoon when Bee and I stood on the front porch of our family house, seeking shelter from the scorching sun as we had this chat. I had just moved back into my parents’ house after deciding to end my marriage and family members were still trying to persuade me to return to it. However, they met stiff resistance at every turn. Initially, they thought I needed to be begged, that walking out was a cry for attention, but they couldn't have been farther away from the truth.

Bee is my cousin. We practically grew up together and I love her very much. Her advice probably came from a good place. I didn’t believe she had any malicious intent, as she had never been the conniving kind of person. Bee was very kind - someone who strived to make people happy. She wore a beautiful smile, very polite, and was a great cook. It was a pleasure to be around her. I believed her intentions were good - at least for me.

Later that night, I contemplated her advice, as I lay in bed alone with the lights off. I love the darkness - I find light very intrusive. There is something about darkness that allows me collect and process my thoughts calmly because my senses are heightened when I’m in the dark. As her words echoed in my thoughts, I wondered if she was right. Was that really an option? Why was it even an option? How much longer would I be able to sustain a double life? Was it worth the risks involved? What if I eventually got caught? “Exposed”, maybe? I pondered all those questions and a lot more. 

I remember receiving a similar piece of advice from friends and I asked myself if that was the norm in Nigeria. I spent the bulk of my adult life in America, where it was normal to see two lovers of the same sex walking hand in hand on the street, sometimes sharing a kiss and onlookers would not even act like they noticed. Even before same-sex marriage was legalised nationwide in the U.S, I knew gay couples who had been in long, happy relationships. So, I knew it was possible to be lesbian, in a happy relationship, and live openly. The idea of living a double life was one I was not really familiar with. I knew people did it, but I did not know if/how I would be able to pull it off. 

The more time I spent time in Nigeria, the more I realized that Bee’s advice was tailored toward the norm here. That was how I knew she did not mean any harm. She was only speaking about what she knew - what she was familiar with. She knew people who were living double lives so that was her reality. Whether these people were happy or not, I doubt she knew. Who knows?

I eventually rejected the advice because I found it inconsistent with everything I believed in. It meant I would have to lie about my life the moment anyone expressed curiosity about it. I was already dealing with accepting my sexual orientation, and had gotten to a point where my pain was stronger than my fear.

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In my journey and many reflections of life, I realize that living a double life - openly living that which is accepted by society, and hiding that which is not accepted yet - comes from a place of shame, which our culture encourages. Bee’s advice to be ‘quiet’ about my sexual orientation also meant that I had to hide it, and show the world what it wanted to see, while maintaining the status-quo and keeping the family happy. Also quite rankling and due to no fault of my cousin, was the assumption that being lesbian was “a thing on the side” which one did to get some kind of perverse pleasure that required one to hide. Being lesbian is not a ‘fun thing to do’ or a ‘lifestyle’, same as being heterosexual is not a sport or something you do to get some kind of kick. This is a rhetoric that many continue to spout, and it forms a layer of the culture of shame. 

Embedded in the culture of shame is also silence - believing that if we do not talk about something, it will somehow just go away, or cease to exist. The notion that same-sex love is something to be hidden, implies that it is something to be ashamed of; something not to be spoken about. But if we never speak of our lives in reality, as they are, we will never be able to make meaningful connections that truly make a difference in peoples’ lives. 

I came to realize that the only way to overcome shame and silence is to speak up. I know that there are many women in Nigeria who are living this situation. I was one of them. These women many never speak up, then again they may, when they get to the part of their journey where they can no longer remain silent, hidden, and self-deceiving. If they get there, they will probably tell their stories too and you may learn that none of this is peculiar to one person. 

There are many who suffer, and many who have decided to no longer suffer. And that is why I write my story - not because it is unique, but because it is not.