‘Jokes aside… Gay guys need a complete mind overhaul!’

(First published in Identity Magazine's Sophomore Issue)

  

The other day I was sipping a mug of something English but had it slightly ‘poisoned’ so as to make
it a little bit exciting. For purposes of my credibility, may the record bear me straight (No offense)
that I don’t get high on anything cheap! Let’s carry on. I was taking a mental note of everything around me until a text message came in. ‘Hey, Cole all is set for the evening. Kindly come even if it will be one of your technical appearances coz I had serious stuff I needed your thoughts on’.
See, I love dinners. Not because I dread cooking in my dungeon but there’s a lot of things to learn when people converge around a well laid table. When you are a relationship enthusiast like yours truly, you get to be invited into lots of those because people use is as a perfect veneer for free professional opinion on their love lives…if they have any that is. I solicited a lift from one of those random guys who always expects to execute any of my wishes. I know it’s manipulative but ‘cest la vie’. Of course, as the norm, is I arrived fashionably late. There were a few guys already present, lots of fine wine, juices, snacks and of course, food!
I was ushered to my seat at the dining area by some tall athletic man. White shirt, some tetron pants. The kind of chap you instantly like, the one who is quite interesting, quite good-looking yet oddly diffuse. Look, I love preferential treatment but pulling seats doesn’t qualify you as a gentleman... that is if they still exist. Over dinner there were lots of jokes, mature and shallow ones that got everyone happy. Dessert was perfect; making conversations liven up more before guys sectioned themselves in different points as they sipped their drinks. Then some bit of drama ensued.You never miss these in any local gay scene.
My host had organized this dinner for the sole purpose of introducing his new partner to his inner circle of
friends. The ex apparently had got wind of it and attended. I’d been skeptical about this while we were having dinner because of the strong non verbal cues between my host and his ex but I chose to keep my clogs off the ice. I don’t get this vibe of guys introducing their new love to the ex but I find it very intriguing.
The ex was apparently getting out of hand at the garden table where they were seated, spilling drinks while serving himself and all the while fidgety and staring at his replacement contemptuously. He was literally behaving like the loud and proud lot who place themselves above the rules of etiquette and common decency.
‘So, this is the bitch you replaced me with? You could have done better John*’. Now, John* is a very modest man by all standards and it is basically a symbol of good upbringing. He isn’t street but very firm. ‘Steve*, in the kitchen!’ said a disgusted John. Reluctantly, Steve* followed him to the kitchen muttering something unprintable in some absurd English. I motioned everyone to continue enjoying the evening.

Despite this bit of drama, something really impressed me. Someone was so put together sipping his dirty Apple martini and taking a special interest in everyone’s (seated next to him) occupation. Now that’s what I call class. I don’t know whether it was stage managed but Austin* the subject of the recent tussle was modern at it. Steve* came from the kitchen muttering some few more unprintable matter, took his undersize brown leather coat and banged the door behind him. Just then my phone beckoned and I had to excuse myself to leave since my drinking buddies were up in arms. John* promised to get back to me the following  day for the serious talk but I guess I had a drift of what to expect.
On my way to the CBD in some otherwise slow cab, my thinking cap went on active mode and I noted a few things I’ve learnt in the scene:

Rejection
When romance wanes, we must learn how to leave honorably. Being clingy to a love gone bad just makes us needy and this isn’t good to an already bruised ego of any man.

There’s more to life than bitch talk
Before you refer to someone as a bitch, make sure the person is beautiful or pretty. That’s how they come and yes, we hate them because they make us look bad. I long for the day we can discuss stuff way beyond our orientation that is geared at sharpening us mutually—education, professional life, and ambitions you know. Looking beyond the genitals!

Top, Bottom, Versatile...C’mon these are just labels

So where and on what forum was it decided that one has to be submissive and live in the dreams of another man? I live in a society where a man must fend for the rest of humanity so being a sexual minority doesn’t mean I have to forget that I’m a man. In my view the aforementioned labels are just roles...they don’t define anyone as a man.

‘I love you’ comes in two parts

Ricky* called me just when I was leaving John’s compound saying that the guy from the weekend hasn’t called him yet he had told him that he loves him. My views? Forget him guy friend he got what he wanted! There’s the ‘I want to get into your pants I love you’ and the ‘I love you’ that someone can actually wait and see how it unfolds. Guys always know when they have been duped but it takes confidence to forge ahead!

While I was still working out some pep thoughts the cab driver interrupted my thoughts ‘Boss, tumefika, nikushukishe wapi?’ (Boss, we have reached, where do I drop you?) I got into the local watering hole where an interesting football match was in progress (I’ve reserved the names of the teams that were playing for patriotic reasons). I was ready for a night of sin. I joined the young guys on the floor after talking a mental record of the time and how many hours I had there.
Deep in mind I concluded to myself, this life is not about some quick, random bend over romp or
charges per shot...all jokes aside, the local gay scene needs a complete mind overhaul...I’m just saying! -

Cole Mutahi

*Names altered for discretion purposes.

Queerdom can be one confusing maze!

(Also published in Identity Kenya Magazine's April 2012 issue under the title Dating Diary of a Diva)

He sent a text message this morning. It’s just a day after our one night stand. I’m sure he’s just being a gentleman because I told him I’m okay with the whole idea of not seeing him again. It happens a lot in the queer scene you know. I was too easy for a first date and even Hurdy once opined that my profile just doesn’t fit one nighties! The pretty boys’ code clearly outlines that such men will never be your significant other.

My two consistent friends in the scene happen to be a 7 or 8 month old couple who have been keenly following my dating patterns with men such that every other weekend my trysts are not hidden to them. I think I love it. It really has some good sort of big brother effect on me. Clearly they want me to get a ‘husband’ though that’s a word I reluctantly subscribe to. What? All that talking you thought I’m just this spoilt bitch who doesn’t relate with stable people! Now you know. The dominant partner in the said relationship has always opined that I need to date an older man who has fetched all this experience and knows how to spoil a pretty boy even beyond that bedroom door (giggle).

Today I feel like I want to start a fight with some schools of thought this whole queerdom thing has brought along with it.

If there is one thing us solo people hate is watching that fine ass couple walking down the street (not yet in our Country but if you hang out late maybe around 2a.m in the CBD you’ll see it) or having that customary beer bottle at your usual watering hole as you try judge the definitely bad karaoke singing or even shopping together at the mall and you haven’t even got to those who live together or this one who is picked in the evening from work! There is this particular queer couple I always run into anytime I’m at The Junction. Reason we hate them? They make us look bad! We don’t actually hate them. Join me and let's say it together: We want to be like them! We just don’t want the baggage that comes with it. Leo and I were having some lengthy phone conversation earlier in the week and one thing I took a mental note of was the fact that everyone will always feel empty at times even if you are an advocate for single hood! An example was this guy who was recently found dead in his place. Maybe if he had someone then it wouldn’t have taken all those days to notice he was long gone. Closing eyes to future d*ck is a sacrifice many a queer men are not going to make anytime soon.

 I’ve also been having misgivings about this whole swag of dating older men despite them being respected for their experience and spoiling a pretty boy as my acquaintances put it. Wait a minute! Am I ready to deal with the occasional tantrums and constant reminder that he had to sit through his PhD while I was still being weaned?  I have also heard my peers say that they want a husband with a checking account and a life in the leafy suburbs. This has also added to the whole confusion in queerdom. I have no qualms about such arrangements but you can never close your eyes to the fact that these guys are very smart, calculated and they got a ‘PHD’ in screwing up with a juvenile mind…they’ve been in this business for a while. They spoil yes, pounce at the opportune time when you decide to be ‘generous’ and then disappear!

Recall recently when I went for a date with a man (note I haven’t called him a boy) who's significantly younger than me? Three years my junior, more experienced, sophisticated? His idea of a romantic date wasn't sneaking into a movie at Sarit after some Hawaiian Pizza and doing it quick in the back row before the manager kicked us out. We went to a real restaurant with cloth napkins on the tables and a Menu that you don’t read on a wall. He maintained eye contact listening to me and I listened to him. He was great eye candy and I was like when is he going to hint where we are going after this? Dick alert! Dick alert! He later dropped me on my doorstep and since we were just the two of us I felt obligated to give him a soft peck on the cheek. I also had to ask him whether he was really gay before he left since he didn’t want to get in saying that he would blemish the evening. Awww! Anyway to cut the long story short he's just a boy. A young boy. He’s got college; he’s got to hang out at Mpaka road with his friends. He’s not my future. I will however put him on the good friends’ zone and here I was thinking romance is dead!

Yes, judge me as much as you can I don’t know what I want in this life but since it’s still my orientation I’m still in a phase where I need to balance things just a little bit more. One thing with being declared a b*tch in an online magazine is that you have to exercise your aggression in this queer life upfront where you can see it. You step on peoples’ shoes, apologize only if you are genuinely sorry but make sure you learn something in the process. I always say all gay men you meet regardless of the losers you meet in the process have some valuable lesson for you to learn. Friends don’t mean much; a better class of enemies works the magic. I long ago realized that if everybody likes you, you're really not even close to maximizing your true Heartless Bitch potential (HBP).

We’ve all been pissed off by one too many immature, disorganized and emotionally spastic guys to take any shit from any sweet-d*ck-BMW-owning-engineer just because we need to satisfy some overactive libidos. The principle is: Put your balls in your pants and USE THEM."

Also Refer:  http://issuu.com/denisnzioka/docs/identity_kenya_magazine_april_2012_issue

A gift called closure This X-Mas

A gift called closure This X-Mas (Published in the December issue of Identity Magazine)

By

Cole_Mutahi.     

I have a high affinity to men in uniform and weapons (don’t get any ideas) but I don’t date them. No big reason just the ‘uncertainties’ of their profession, its workings and their ever present three tenets summed up as 3W’s: Wine (they swallow lots of liquor); War (Most bar brawls are always caused by these fine men) and Women also read as we-men if you are on my side of the hedge(They have multiple ‘liaison’ partners). I’m also a dedicated enthusiast of those who abhor sports cars not because I know anything about them but just for the conventional reason they are not comfy when making out in them!

Imagine my thrill when I was invited for this dinner event last Saturday evening! I think it was something to the effect that it was meant to empower youths and also support children’s home. The organizers of this thing were definitely refined in view of the venue and also the status of the guests I ran into at the function. I pause here and wonder. It’s either I date the wrong men, I’m still a lost cause when it comes to classy places or to the extreme I am cheap, Ouch! – Thanks guys, you are definitely princes among the men folk!Enough with the diva moment! At some point during the occasion my mind wandered a bit and I started thinking about the men in my inane life! There’s the one I almost made out with in his (sports) car outside The Mall in Westlands on a first date; then there’s the one who literally showed up on my doorstep on a Tuesday morning to floss his new ride (sports). I recollect him telling me on my way to work that he intended to give it to his bf since he wanted something more exhilarating (Men are just so obvious!); there’s also the one from the April 2011 weekend I first met at the Ngong Race Course. He categorically told me he had issues with premature ejaculation when it came to women. Of course premature ejaculation isn't a laughing matter for anyone, except for your friends when you tell them about it on the phone the next morning, I think my first and last friendship with benefits ended because the main event was invariably over before he got his socks off; then David* this half-caste guy I’ve always had a crush on (still do) because he plays golf proficiently and promised me pro bono lessons! I remember I literally showed up for the first time at a Mosque in my over 20 years just to meet him -Gay men! God Bless them!; I can’t forget about this very wedded middle aged corporate executive who once dropped me home at very ‘ungodly’ hours of a Sunday morning and then how do u expect me to leave Soldier boy, he is a well bred, awesomely built serviceman with an unsullied English accent that proves he never went to a school named after any human being and works with our disciplined forces. Despite his raunchy personality (which I find appealing).He always calls me beautiful and as much as he hasn’t been the relationship type, he’s really a piece of work. I mean, how do you think I learnt how to play the roulette in a casino or better still discern the sinful existence of most high end Nairobi watering holes! Once, late at night, when he was a bit tipsy, he confided to me that life rushed at him out of a fog, constantly taking him by surprise. That explained to me the multiple sex partners but he assured me that I wasn’t in his catalogue of the pretty boys he deflowers. Oh and when he gets to town for a weekend! I have always shoved all my prior engagements aside ready to hear the ‘men in uniform and artillery’ stories, receive gifts in kind that are usually advanced to me when he’s from mission and also get introduced to his latest conquests. He’s actually the authority behind: Save a boyfriend for a rainy day. And another, in case it doesn't rain....friends, the list is interminable!

You see in this life we meet, greet, street and forget our encounters as soon as we created them! Welcome to what I technically refer to as ‘man-meets’! (It will be a precedent to see a real date in the G world). Once a pretty boy passes a certain point in intelligence, sex is for ‘your’ own fulfilment; you never discuss your cash, professional or educational milieu with a gay man you just met; relationships, boyfriends and other vain stuff like love are for the feeble or faint hearted; Your cell phone is simply for giving directions and taking instructions, then there’s the aspect of coming back home from your clandestine activities at 10 in the morning but let’s save this story for another day.

While dinner was almost being served I saw some few familiar faces I knew so I embarked on going to say hello. In the course I met Tom* (remember the premature ejaculation man from the April 2011 Racecourse weekend?) White shirt, coffee leather jacket, brown cords and high-ankle suede shoes oozing a fine scent of a man who distinctly portrays class and is perfectly modern at it! I keep a mental inventory of all my men even the one night stand ones! ‘Cole, Wow! You’re also here? You just stopped talking!’ said a noticeably impressed Tom* ‘Yeah, it’s been ages, I think 3 months? ‘I responded ‘Yeah thereabout, please’, He responded motioning me to some empty seat adjacent to his fine self! After I explained I was with some friends he requested to join us because he was unaccompanied and was only using this as a guise (before he proceeded to a watering hole) to his colleague who had also got him a ticket and was also all over the place as one of the organizers. My friends were very receptive because of his charm and mannerisms that symbolized good breeding.

Holy Inappropriateness!                                                                                                                    Dinner was soon served and good conversations were evenly exchanged ranging from career advancements inter alia the festive season.  During dessert he opened my ice cream cup! Things were really sweet until at some point during the speeches he asked whether we could go gather the fresh air outside and talk about something (Read this as trouble looming!) ‘Cole, been waiting to hear from you for a while now. I have always had a thing for you but you underestimate me...You have definitely pushed me aside in your pursuits and haven’t appreciated my feelings. Despite the breakdown in communication I thought I needed to give you time to reason things out...Please react your continued silence is annoying!’

See, at this point I wasn’t so sure whether it was the bottle of St. Dublin Gates 1759(Guinness) that he had taken earlier during the soccer match before the event talking or just him. I simply remained tight-lipped. ‘Let’s just clear our conflicting positions in this friendship today if you don’t mind...I don’t think we should hang on nothing.’ He conclusively remarked. Now wait a minute! What the hell was all these about? When did he tell me about these ‘alleged’ feelings and what clarity was this man talking about? ‘Tom* I don’t know what to say...you actually took me by surprise. We’ve been friends and I simply see it as such. Personally I’m not ready for anything serious with anyone...I’m quite complacent with us being friends as we’ve always been...’ I muttered sheepishly. ‘No, Cole I don’t buy those lines, if you really feel nothing and won’t find in your heart for us to have something then let’s just end everything’ garbled a distressed Tom* ‘Okay with me...’ I hesitantly replied. I’ve mastered the art of succinctness when talking to a man who’s on the verge of an emotional breakdown. It enables you be in charge. Did Tom* just ask me for a permanent closure? I mean, how does one just do that? Anyway, his loss! I won’t lose sleep over it besides my olive branch of friendship was unwarranted. Just becoming his friend now seemed like embarking on a treacherous affair! Closure it was!

Cutting to the Chase

The concept of closure especially in our lives as a sexual minority is alien, uncalled-for and totally unthinkable! In our man-meets, the life cycle is obvious: Facebook/Planet Romeo, Phone numbers, Meet and Greet over drinks (or coffee for the ones who want to feign erudition), a quick fling may be in the offing and then we move on to the next guy as fast as we got the previous. The ‘weak’ will wonder why he hasn’t called and its Wednesday; why he selectively responds to our texts or doesn’t at all, why he’s now busy and can’t even chat with us online! The cycle continues until you notice you have a whole backlog of men that you have barely touched base with. At this point they are an unresolved baggage. Next time you meet them you make up numerous excuses! May this record bear me right that one night sex romps that have been agreed prior before the man-meet remain at that, they don’t qualify for closures .Let’s cut to the chase, everyone needs closure! Why should anyone put their life on hold for someone who is definitely not forthcoming! Okay, you did that movie, had that pizza laughed a lot on the things you had in common but that may not really mean much. If there’s a future (which rarely is in the gay circles after the first man-meet) admit it then. If nothing is shared in common admit that you are keeping your options open.  

  

Lessons Learnt                                                                                                                                

Back to the men I highlighted to you earlier, I just love the relief I normally get when I’ve told a guy that things can’t work. I sent a text in reply to the guy who wanted us to make out in that parking. He had said I needed some more growing up to do. My response to him: "Man, the brain is connected to the spine. Try to get them working in tandem for a change." I think no one should ever underestimate the predictability of stupidity. Recall the man who was kind enough to give me a ride to work? I met him one evening on my way home and I was like ‘I thought you wanted something more exhilarating!’ Guess what? Excuses! From him I learnt that Principles only mean something if you stick by them when they are inconvenient. I’m glad we are still casual friends since I’ve made it clear in the past I don’t want any pursuits at the moment. The corporate executive just went silent but I ran into him at the usual watering hole in the company of someone, said hi then motioned myself over to the lounge area where I was in for a soccer evening with one of my male friends. Guys, at times it just doesn’t work out so "I guess he saw it like this: "Since we'll basically be sleeping together at my convenience, and not actually, 'partners', I'll leave him there alone with his migraine and go to my wife without him." So much for compassion, or delaying gratification! The million dollar question is why continue living as someone hidden secret when you can be making another person’s major headlines! But at least I got the business card and know his relations! The pro golfer’s offer still stands just that there are a lot of revelations from his quarters of late. You know I’ve tried this subtle guidance thing, more than once, and it just didn't work. If a man isn't strong enough to be candid with me, I'm not going to make an effort to coddle his ego.  Soldier boy is on this Al Shabaab mission (I love the sound of this) but he’s sent at least 4 texts since the combat started from those Somalia numbers that never give me a delivery report. I find guys who show initiative even in hardship irresistible! However I have mentioned to him that in 2012 I am getting a boyfriend who will be there when it rains and even when it doesn’t. He says we need to have a crisis meeting once he comes back! Men are not supposed to be this nice. Either way expectations are bound to crop up. I don’t think I would recommend him to anyone though. I know him too well. He can be rude, controlling, abusive, misogynistic, disparaging and dismissive. In all seriousness though, what a hideous lust object to mythologize. At times I feel it’ll be teaching all sorts of young men that it's romantic to accept any sort of appalling treatment from someone who treats you like dirt.                                                              

 It’s Sunday, I’m just coming from lunch. Tom* left two messages late last night-one sober, one drunk. I’ve promised myself I’ll call him back. I haven’t got round to it. I’ve realized I respect him more because he has taught me something valuable though I am not likely to meet him for a while. I mean, what are permanent closures for? I think men come into our lives to sharpen us and the best thing one needs to do is learn something from each of them. Lyrics to some soft rock playing, wine in ice and the room murky, the Christmas spirit slowly beckoning...Closures have been made and more are yet to come. I’m ready for an uncertain 2012 where man-meets will be more or less a learning arena! Cheers, let’s drink to that and for whatever it’s worth Merry Christmas!

*Names have been altered for discretion purposes.

Namaste bi*ches!

Namaste bi*ches! (Published in Identity Magazine's February Issue)

By Cole Mutahi

I adore sex (we all do) and we’re not just talking about the usual discounted brief sex in a sports car or some nasty bit of Nairobi you’ve never been before most of you engage in. It’s the whole thing: foreplay, touch, rimming and riding until we are all about to get insane then after that we go our separate ways. There is no point in sleeping in his bed until morning. It violates the pretty boys’ code which states that you never sleep with the men you sleep with (sic). Osteen’s phone rings and I take a mental note of ‘Bad Things’ by Jace Everett as his ring tone which confirms his mark of sexual emancipation and maturity. He’s not an addict though since there are those periods he takes the re-virginizing debate to a whole new level through a self imposed hiatus (man cleanse).He’s not a slut because he deciphered a while back that once a gay pretty boy passes a certain point in intelligence, it is almost impossible to get a man who’ll always be available besides it’s a society where all our active men want to push their meat through anything that has a hole in it. I pause here and wonder why most guys are obsessed with the hole; do you think it’s dick envy?

He’s also neither affluent nor exactly an old bitch. He’s 24, pays his own rent and utility bills; buys wine every Tuesday evening at DOD’s AFCO courtesy of one of the men in uniform in his ‘silly’ life and always boasts he’s toiled his fine ass hard to be where he is. He emphatically says that once you are at this level, gay and you are on the receiving end of a cock, you don’t necessarily have to be nice. In his world, a shag is a journey just meant to empower him sexually not as a means to justify an end. He sees no relationship prospects and says, ‘If I ever get to boyfriend number two, he better have a busy life full of his own hobbies, goals and interests because I will not be someone’s reason to exhale. I have better things to do than entertain a full grown man when I’m not getting paid for it.’ Welcome to the world of the first class bitch!

When a pretty boy leaves his house on a Friday evening with the sole purpose of inter alia getting laid, trust me they will get laid! 

There is a raison d'être why those men carry bags across the city. I also have a small back pack which I carry anytime I’m not sure I’ll come back to my dungeon. A bottle of flavoured lube and a pack of condoms must always be contained in the same among other paraphernalia even if I’ll not really use them! And while I’m still breathing the same air, guys had better put that condom on - if we're all going to act like a dick we do need to dress like one. I’ve never fucked anyone that was so good it was worth dying for.

Even women not so long ago had been trained to speak softly and carry lip stick. Those days are spent. Look at it this way, If I had a clit I’d be applauded and called a real woman but then I’m male (a gay one for that matter) - so the world calls me a fag.

I have met a handful of men who have plainly dismissed me as naïve due to my choosy sex schedules, ignorance of sexual advances and safe sex advocacy. See, in my world if you are not the one doing the bleeding, vomiting, or on fire, chill out and stop the tantrums! Just because I don’t want to fuck anyone anymore doesn’t make me heterosexual (God Forbid). And of course pretty boys have more opportunities than just mere boys to get laid. I mean, have you looked at the guys complaining that they can't get any? They have bad haircuts, don’t bathe, no concept of how to dress, tuck shirts into pants so that we can see their beer guts hanging out over their belts and Oh! They also try the lamest lines on pretty boys who have just stepped off the future swag pages of this noble magazine (Denis Nzioka I hope you implement this). I mean no insolence but if you think I’m being a bitch yet all we are talking about here is sex, and I mean raw sexual attraction, let's face it; the bulk of the gay male race is damned ugly. You want to get laid? Try looking half as good as the pretty boy u r drooling over.

On relationships: These are like sushi; they are just not for everyone. Save a boyfriend for a rainy day and another in case it doesn’t rain so the adage goes. I’ve quoted in another forum that people are wrong: The size of a man's penis is unimportant. What matters is how big his balls are. It’s not a crime to use size as a tenet to select our partners but then sometimes a big dick is just that! I recently ended a relationship (got into it for experience), almost beat myself at it but then realized that I’m not one of those pretty boys who pity party that they have been used and dumped after some romps that they equally enjoyed. No winners in such contexts, we both had fun.

I’m single (the unavailable type) and one of the conventions in the pretty boys’ code states: Thou shall not chase men at the expense of building your life. Men can waste you but you can’t waste a man. Most hot gay guys around are single, stable (even emotionally), don’t give a bat’s shit on anyone’s actions  and are probably getting laid at their own terms! They’d rather be labeled sluts than be lied to, cheated on and disrespected. That is the ultimate bitch I saw in Osteen.

Get into a relationship with a heart? That also violates the code of being gay. Leave that to the straight folks. In the queer milieu you get into it with your head and that needs skill and time besides if you are single, there are lots of other single guys in the world that have yet to spontaneously combust due to lack of the presence of a penis or ass and if you drink to this: Namaste (I bow to you) bitches!