SEX IS HARDWORK - By Malcolm

DEAR LIONSPOT, I feel nothing. I feel nothing for no man and no woman. That must be strange to hear, right? But what is stranger? Sex is hardwork. The whole clasping of frenzied bodies and bright lips. The frictions. The energetic feet, and the fierceness of hands hungry for more flesh. Sex is too much stress and most times, I feel I should rather be doing something else. This not a general view. It’s just me. Something particular is wrong with me. I do not feel attracted to girls, and I’m not gay too, because Christ! Thinking about guys that way draws my ire. So I wander what I am. Asexual? That’s the word I googled last night. It means a person who has lack of sexual attraction to anyone, or low or absent interest in sexual activity. Seeing this online was both a relief and a damnation to me. I enjoy the way sex stories are told with an enthusiasm gifted by our natural hormones. But imagine if girls and guys are just flesh and blood, and that somewhere, just somehow, sex vanished. Imagine that. That is how I lead my life every day, like sex vanished!

DEAR LIONSPOT, I do not like sex. Not because I’m particularly turned off or that I have not tried. I know it sounds curious that a student within these same four walls called UNN, a student that passes by Ejike’s shop on Saturday evenings, sits at Manuwa bustop with you all to wait for shuttle, has this problem. But it’s not just curious it feels. It is also awful; that I stand stranded outside under the rain behind closed doors and forgotten windows to look at ‘normal’ students chat away the bickering candle with stories of the hottest girls until sleep comes. How often sleep comes to the undeprived? I feel the need to scream sometimes, till my voice gets hoarse and my vocal cords taste this pain; till my arms rip open. I have nothing to lose afterall, but my chains.

DEAR LIONSPOT, being asexual, pastors preach to me to have sex (Lol, isn’t that ironical?), and what a relief that I don’t need your rigorous sex education or Christ Lord! AIDS. And yeah, at least there’s no 14 years imprisonment for this, right? (with a concerned face), right?

DEAR LIONSPOT, I sleep at nights and seek pleasure in the world behind the glass. I like the way there are no seconds, no minutes in the world behind this one. Just manifold layers of hidden possibilities and suppressed desires and there is no Sun to bring me reality. There, in my dreams, I have a glimpse of this sex feeling. When I sleep the longest and wake up, I realize the closest I will ever get to being normal is AMAKA. Amaka completes my dreams, as though the dream-world overstepped its boundaries, entered this world and was embodied in her. Amaka is in Radiography Department. She is asexual too, but will never admit. She is neck-deep in the process of self-discovery. Perhaps our abnormality has grounded our new-found friendship. It is almost a romance. Just like lovers, we too go to spend time at LOVE GARDEN to share our pent-up feelings. There is nothing sexual about our relationship. Nothing physical. As I write this, I realize something. I am going to marry Amaka. I have to marry Amaka. A marriage without sex. A marriage that holds the key to my life’s other mysteries. One thing, I am sure, I have found a soul-mate. People of my kind do not get more than one. I see a future where me and Amaka, with our adopted children (‘2 boys and 2 girls’ was her idea, lol), will live together like pretty little flowers sailing on the passing clouds, for all time. I see Amaka smiling in that future.

Yours in eternity,

Solomon

BY Malcolm