YOU WILL BE MY BANE

THE FIRES OF SODOM.

A.

The air is cool, the sun is hanging low in the clouds and I am drinking palm wine with my father in the village.

He looks at me incredulously. His nose twitches and flares up.

"So let me get this straight, you helped someone you just met barely a week before, to cover up a murder?" He asks.

"No, it wasn't a murder. I helped him hide a body" I correct him. Pops looks at me and nods slowly. He takes a sip from his local drinking jar and nods again.

"So this boy, how much did he give you to make you throw away your conscience like a man without home training?" He barks.

"He didn't give me money Pops, see, I... I..am deeply attracted to him. I think I love him" I blurt out quickly, amazed at my new found temerity.

There is silence. I can hear the sound the winds make as they bounce off the surface of the leaves outside, the croaking of male frogs in a nearby pool of water as they beg their female counterparts to indulge them and the buzzing of flies, trying to have a taste of the palm wine in front of us.

"You are attracted to him? Like a brother feels the urge to protect a brother?" Pop asks.

"No, like a man feels for a woman" I say while staring at the ground.

"Okay, okay. I understand. We can't help how we feel sometimes. Emotions are like the raging sea and often times we are like the little unfortunate ships tossed about by the stormy waves" Pops says and I nod.

"Yes pops. Yes! I can't help how I feel about him. I wish I don't feel like this but I do" I add and Pops nods again.

"I understand you Odogwu, let me get more drink from the fridge, that one is more fermented than this one we are drinking" my father says with a smile and disappears into his bedroom.

Maybe he understands. Maybe he loves me enough to not care about what society will say. Maybe his love for me is stronger than his hatred for homosexuals.

"You love your fellow man right?" Pops asks and I turn to answer him, there he stands, a few feet away from me with a hunting gun pointed at my head.

"God will understand why I had to do this. My ancestors will understand. Filth has to be cleansed from our lineage, you are a disgrace to the Obioma men. You are a disappointment to both yourself and to me " pops says and fires his gun.

I manage to scream before the bullet lodges into my head and bounces around, turning my brain to mush. I feel my brain flow out through my nostrils and ears.

I fall on my knees slowly and I fall face flat on the floor, dead.

I scream and wake up. I am in my room, back in Lagos, in Uncle Ekene's house. I am sweating and breathing hard like I just ran a marathon. My fingers are shaking. I grab my pillow and I scream into it.

I look at my phone, it's six in the morning. I kneel down to pray, all I can hear in my mind is my father's voice. "You are filth, you are a disgrace. You are a disappointment".

I sit on the foot of my bed and I do what I haven't done since my second year in college, when I found out what happened to my mother- I cry.

B.

I go to work and I try to read the case files Barrister Wale gave me to read in order to prepare for court on Monday. I can't concentrate.

I get constant flashes of my nightmare from last night.

The elevator dings and you step out with Tope and Larry. Tope and Larry are arguing about a client. Tope is convinced that the client groped his employee at work but Larry is averse to the idea.

You walk towards me with an infectious smile because as soon as your lips draw up in a smile, mine do the same.

"Hey Nate good morning, got a moment?" You ask and motion with your head towards your office.

For you Yemi, I will have all the moments the world has to offer.

I nod and follow you into your office. You close the door and walk to your seat. You pull out a cheque and hand it to me.

"See, I thought I should do this. I mean, I should thank you for what you did. You know" you say.

You want to bribe me to remain quiet. You are afraid I might tattle on you. I look at you and my heart breaks.

Is that all you think of me? A helping hand to be paid off?

I take the cheque and look at the ridiculous sum. I shake my head. I wonder if you will give me this sort of money if you aren't trying to cover your tracks.

"I can't accept this Yemi, I have to go. I have something I was reading" I say and walk away. You stand there, surprised and bemused.

The day wears on and each time I look at your office, you are looking at me. You have this look of wonder and confusion meshed into one.

Berry steps out of the elevator wearing her seductive scrubs and pets my nose again.

I force a smile and she enters your office. You kiss her like nothing else matters in the world. You grab her curvy buttocks and you lock your lips with her luscious mouth, devouring her touch and sucking her teeth.

Gee Yemi, the 'French kiss' should be renamed the 'Yemi tussle'.

I help you bury a body out in the Ocean and get you out of your funky depressed state and she swoops in like an eagle and takes your attention again.

Do I even matter to you, do you see me Yemi? Am I a fool for indulging this dangerous fantasy? Should I tell you how I feel? What should I do Yemi? And if I can't tell you how I feel, how do I get you out of my mind?

I go home without talking to you. My father's voice reverberates through my mind anytime I try to think of you- which is all the time. I begin to think that he is right.

Maybe I am filth, a disgrace to the Obioma men. Maybe I'm a fool. Why do I feel about you this way? Am I being punished for something that I did in a past life?

How do I end these feelings before they end me?

I go to bed with tears and wake up with a headache the next day.

It is Sunday. The weather looks and feels like I do; dark, gloomy and unstable.

Uncle Ekene insists that I go to church with them. He believes that I have been drawing away from the faith. He thinks I spend too much time in the bathroom and there is only one explanation; I am touching myself.

Everything is going well in Church until the priest begins the homily which he titles The Fires of Sodom and The Sulphur of Gomorrah.

"Romans 1;27 says it all. The men abandoned the natural relations with women and burned in their lust for one another. You watch foreign movies and they have normalized this despicable behavior. They have conditioned your minds to think that it is normal".

The Reverend father screams into the microphone and the congregants all nod. For a moment I might have seen one spit dryly into the air in disgust.

My uncle, Ekene and his wife are nodding their heads vigorously. Lord knows that I worry that their heads might fall off if they nod it any further.

I close my eyes as the Reverend father's voice continues to rend the cool morning air.

"I won't tell you not to continue with your filthy life but remember the second part of that verse; Men committing shameless acts with their fellow men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error. Where do you think HIV came from? Ask any God-fearing Doctor and he will tell you the dangers associated with the gay lifestyle. Let's not talk about incontinence and hemorrhoids, what about other STDs?" The Reverend father drones on.

The sky grows dark, it is as if she is attuned to my emotions and just as a streak of lightning flashes across the sky and the rains begin to pour, I begin to cry.

With each word I hear, my mind becomes my enemy. My conscience becomes a tyrant holding my emotions for you siege.

"Like I said, I'm not telling you to abandon your filthy life but all I am asking you is to question what the media and the western countries are force-feeding you. Ask yourself this question; What if they are wrong and this will lead to my destruction? What if they are wrong and God will bring down the fires of Sodom and the Sulphur of Gomorrah upon me? Child of God, ask yourself, What if".

I stand up immediately and rush to the restroom. I wash my hands and splash water upon my face. Like a kid experiencing the doppler effect of an ice cream truck, the last words of the Reverend father; "What if" begins to haunt me, reverberating in my ear.

What if God has given me over to condemnation? What if He doesn't love me anymore?

What if I'm headed to destruction and certain doom? What if I get infected with an STD? What if I die a horrible and miserable death like those boys we saw on the road that horrible day? Yemi, what if?

What are the odds that of all Sundays, he chooses this one to talk about the event that occurred in Sodom?

I go to work the next day and I sink deeper into depression. You are already at work and you are in a meeting with a client.

I switch on my computer and I go to incognito mode on chrome. The words of the Padre are now boring deeper into my brain. I can hear the distorted callings of the voice; "you are a failure, you are filth. The fires of Sodom will burn you, the Sulphur of Gomorrah will wash you until the earth is cleansed of both your filth and you".

I type in keywords in the Google search bar. Health issues of Homosexual Men,.

Lots of articles pop up and I begin to read the introductory parts. Majority of them are saying the same thing; All gay men have increased chances of contracting Sexually transmitted diseases. They are prone to depression and there is a high probability that they are quite promiscuous which is one of the causes of their high rate of STIs.

I close the tabs and swallow hard. The Reverend's distorted voice comes again, "you are filth, a disgusting anomaly on God's green earth" I swallow hard and fight the tears which now comes without warning.

A dark feeling of hopelessness and shame envelopes me and it feels as if my heart and lungs stopped working for a few seconds. I gasp for air as I feel light headed.

I bury myself in case files, preparing for court with Barrister Nuru on Thursday.

You finish your meeting with your client and you escort him to the elevator.

You wave him goodbye and you return. "Hey Nate, how are you doing?" You ask me in a chipper voice.

"I'm fine. I'm copacetic" I say and you look at me closely.

"Huh! Have you been crying?" You ask me.

"What? No! I haven't" I lie.

"Oh, it's just that your perfect immaculate eyes is very red" you say and I feel happy that you think my eyes are perfect. But Father Joe's words ring in my ear; filth, wretch, a curse upon us.

I swallow hard and force a smile.

" I have conjunctivitis". I tell you.

"Isn't that ummmmmm contagious? The client that just left here is a Doctor of Optometry. I can help you get an appointment at his clinic in mainland" you tell me.

"No, I'm fine. I've seen a doctor, he says it's emmm... allergic, so it's not infectious" I tell you, glad that I have been diagnosed with Allergic conjunctivitis in the past.

You draw closer to me, your cologne getting stronger and appealing, drawing me in and yet killing me as my conscience kicks me hard for wanting more of you.

Oh Shakespeare was right; these Violent delights do have violent ends.

"You know that I am still waiting for your answer on the cheque but if you can't take it, why not see a therapist? I have one that I am seeing, she is awesome. I can ask her to fix you up with a colleague" you tell me.

"What on earth makes you think that I need therapy?" I snap at you. Anger welling up in my chest.

"I'm not crazy Yemi, I'm fine" I tell you.

"Hey, hey, I'm not saying that you are crazy. I'm just saying that I'm seeing myself in you the first week we did what we did. This is how it started. The brooding, the angry outbursts, the red eyes and then soon you decide to find solace either at the bottom of a bottle or at the roof of a building. I don't know why your own depression is coming now but you told me to get help and I did. Maybe it's time you did the same. Talk to someone, you never can tell, you might feel good" you tell me.

"I'm not crazy Yemi, excuse me, I have files to take to Barrister Nuru upstairs, I say and walk away.

C.

"Think about it bro, please" you shout after me and I ignore you. You sound worried. You enter your office and sit down. I go to the elevator and it dings, Berry steps out.

Great, just what I need now, more nose touching.

"Hey Nate bear" she says but she doesn't touch my nose. I smile at her.

"Hy Berry, welcome. He's in his office" I say and she thanks me. I'm now your f*****g Herald Yemi. How did my life come to this? And in the name of all that is good, why can't I hate you?.

"Wait, Berry" I tell her as she tries to leave.

"Yeah" she says adjusting her blue scrubs. Her bosom screaming at me, how on earth do they allow her wear this around patients, Yemi? Is she a real Doctor or a stripper?.

"I have a case I'm working on with Barrister Nuru. It's a human rights case. I'm not supposed to talk about it but I might need an expert opinion. So, do you think Homosexuality is a disease or a normal biological occurrence? Is there a gay gene?" I ask her.

Berry smiles.

"Nate boo, I'm an internist. I can't give you an expert opinion on that because I'm neither a geneticist nor a mental health practitioner but I can tell you what I know" she says.

"Okay" I reply.

"See, in the early nineties, a geneticist, Dean Hamer from the The American National Cancer Institute and his colleagues published a paper suggesting that an area on the X chromosome called Xq28 could contain a “gay gene.” But other studies, including a new study two years ago, found no such link. It might be biological but there is no solid proof yet" she says.

"Right now,I'm going with environmental and perhaps slight pathological and hormonal influences during fetal development" she adds.

"Pathological? Doesn't that mean sickness?" I ask.

"Well, some researchers demonstrated that lesions in certain areas of a male rat brain can increase female-like s****l behavior. I think it was Agmo and Ellison. You should read it up. I saw it in a journal. I couldn't finish it, I was busy. I gotta go now but call me if you have more questions but I suggest you get in touch with a mental health practitioner or a geneticist. You will benefit from both" she says and touches my nose before leaving.

Our growing ritual.

Did she say lesions? Aren't lesions cancer? Am I dying? What am I going to do? Instead of these feelings to reduce, they are getting stronger. I feel light headed as the elevator goes up.

I am standing on the balcony of the fifth floor. I am looking into the distance. Father Joe's distorted voice is screaming into my ear, condemning me.

"You know that you are a failure, a filthy dog living a filthy life. What will your father do when he learns of your filthy life? You are a sick demented dog and such dogs deserve to be put down" the voice rages.

I take a step further as tears flow down my cheeks. My conscience becomes a horrible slave master punishing me for crimes I didn't even know if I committed.

What am I doing on the open balcony of the fifth floor? Why am I here? These are the questions I should ask myself but I can't, I can't even think straight.

Am I sick? Or am I cursed? Christmas is fast approaching, what will I tell pops about the girl Sarah who I'm supposed to meet and get married to?.

My head feels heavy, my heart heavier. The skies growl and grumble with occasional flashes of lightning. I feel as if my heart is giving out, I feel as if the whole world doesn't need me anymore. I feel as if the fires of Sodom is burning within me and the Sulphur of Gomorrah is washing over my putrid soul.

Maybe it's a good thing, maybe it should end like this. This way, pops wouldn't be mocked by his kinsmen, this way there wouldn't be whispers by market women when he crosses. This way you will never really know what I feel for you and you will not hate me.

I look at the cars passing on the road below and this fearful overwhelming urge to jump towards these cars and end it all, envelopes me.

I don't realize it but I've been crying. I feel alone, tired and disgusted with myself. Why did I start working here?

Had I applied to Adebimbo firm, I would have been accepted there. It is a smaller firm but I wouldn't have discovered this dark and disgusting part of me. I wouldn't have met you.

I am breathing heavily now and as the next car passes below, I climb the safety bars and without a care left in the world, I release my grip.