We are three friends scattered across the globe, each navigating life as gay Zimbabweans.
I will have to open with a special ‘FUCK YOU’ to all my mates in seemingly loving relationships. You never told me that a relationship is time and work. You also never told me that there is a fine line between being doting and being needy. ‘Voldermort’ came into my life by pure chance. Armed with with a mallet and plastic chisel he broke down my walls. Walls that were built over years. Fucking weather proof walls. He drives me fucking insane at times but manages to make me smile. A smile from the heart. A smile that warms one up from the inside and breaks away the selfishness pent up from years being single. He is one of the people that stirs things up and has made monogamy relatively easy. I may have been fed a love potion as he loves to cook. The wandering eyes are definitely lazy now. I feel like I owe him my life, to an extent. The demons of depression have retreated into the shadows.
The unfortunate thing in Zimbabwe is that even when you meet someone you like, you cannot quickly announce it to everyone. Even if the mates know you’re gay, it is nerve wracking to introduce a flame to them. You put so much time and effort into seeking your friends’ approval- sometimes to the detriment of the relationship you are working so hard to build. You end up perpetuating what I have termed the ‘Mistress Complex’. Even if you are with someone, you treat him like a mistress because you cannot allow for any questions or suspicions to be raised by the peanut gallery, ergo everyone in your heteronormative existence. You smile to yourself and laugh by yourself and when the people around you ask what’s so funny, you dismiss them with some flimsy excuse.
I realised that the ducks in my life never like being in a row. They must be gay, because the flamboyant little shits keep dancing out of sequence. This was noticeable from a tender young age. My mom never new what the Tooth Fairy was so imagine my dismay at finding my crusty old tooth under my pillow in the morning. Fast-foward to now. How can I expect mom to understand that I am gay and have a lover that makes me happy. I cannot even pretend to fathom her distaste or disapproval. For now I am safe as I took a woman to meet her. My fiancé actually. She is of a different race and also an academic so there is not pressure for nuptials. I didn’t dupe the woman, mind you. The fiancé is well aware of my ‘predisposition’ and was happy to help blow the smoke away. My family fell in love with her. Even the local pastor is intrigued- so intrigued that he invited me for dinner to find out how I am and such. It was a small thing with just him, his wife and I. I was pleasantly surprised that they seemed open minded about certain topics. I didn’t come out and confess if thats what you think as I still have my fiancé and that facade to uphold. Everyone is expecting the pitter patter of little biracial feet. Buhahahahahahaha….
Today I went to vote. I have expectations. Maybe too many of them. After the jobs and economy have been addressed, I hope the incumbent will consider decriminalising all things gay. I am not after marriage. I just think adults should be allowed to cavort however they please. Voldermort is part of MY life in a big way and the law should not detract from my experience.
I will never parade him, but the peace of mind should enrich our relationship. Gravity got me falling….
Want to read more of our stories? Subscribe today and become a part of something bigger than any of us.
