Mr Coco [co-co]
Noun {Nigerian English, Taboo, slang}
A man who has sex with everybody. Another name for Community Penis.
“You’re a fag.”
Those words pierced my soul like one dagger for my chest.
Those were the very words that came out of my “best friend”, Kolapo’s mouth one social night in SS3.
Earlier that night, I was locked up in a classroom with my crush, Samantha, by three of my guys. It was our last social night in secondary school and those idiots dared me to fulfil my erotic fantasies with my crush before we graduated.
And so, they locked me and this fine babe in the classroom. Alone. Whether I was going to knack her by force or not, I wouldn’t be punished anyways.
This game… they called it Seven Minutes in Heaven. Samantha and I had seven minutes to tear each other’s pant before they unlocked the door.
By the time our seven minutes don finish, the boys opened the door sharp sharp only to be… disappointed.
They expected to see unbuttoned shirts, trousers dangling, a hickey on my neck and all that shit. But to their surprise, I did not touch Samantha. She was clearly not into me and I could not force her. I was not that guy.
But my guys were so pissed that they started calling me gay because I did not knack the hottest girl in our class when I had the ONE chance to.
Suddenly, all the guys in my hostel started calling me Gay Lord. For where? Me?
It never stop there.
On our last yearbook, ‘Faggot of the Year’ was my title. Can you believe that shit?
I was hurt. I was mad. I was… damn.
Omo, if only I grabbed Samantha, even for one second, all these could have been avoided.
See tears for my eye that night. I cried like I never did before. I cried in a way that I could imagine my father knocking my head and telling me,
“Man up, you fool. You’re a man stop crying like a woman.”
On my first night in 100-level, I made a deal with the devil— me.
“Solomon. Solomon, you bastard.” I looked at myself in the mirror, “You go knack 100 babes before you graduate this university. No let anybody call you faggot for this school.”
You sabi so?
In the book of Yoruba Demons chapter 7 vs 23, there are three easy ways to get any university girl to bed:
- Have money.
- Be confident. Or at least, pretend to be one.
- Confuse them. There is nothing small girls like more than instability. If they can predict your next move, you’re a finished man.
Getting babes in my class was a little harder than I expected it to be, because they only had eyes for the mandem in 300-level and above.
But getting babes in the classes above me was a piece of pie. They seemed pretty excited about harvesting ‘fresh fish’.
Omo, enjoyment finish me die. Babes today, babes tomorrow, babes in my next life.
Toilet oh. Uncompleted building oh. Under her roommate’s bed oh. In security room oh. Anywhere you can off pant, do am.
Then there was aunty Jamila, the matron of female hostel D. One sweet afternoon, she caught me fucking one babe from 500-level in her hostel. I carry her to the next room, fucked her brains out and returned to my 500-level babe in the other room.
Women. Women were like sponge. Just throw money and use sweet words, my brother, that’s the remote to her mumu button.
Sex was life. From seven minutes in heaven to seventy days in eternity.
Before I knew it, the babes in my class started calling me, “Mr Coco”. Short form of Community Penis.
I loved it. I didn’t belong to anybody, and nobody belonged to me.
By the time I got to 300-level, I lost count of how many women I had slept with.
Sex was like nightcap to me. Just chop and get out. What the fuck is intimacy? That shit is a myth. It was an excuse to give sex way more credit than it deserved.
And women… they simply existed as the hole to our screwdriver.
Life has been going great.
Until this very day…
“Oga Gay Lord?” I heard a familiar voice behind me at a supermarket down my house street.
I stopped on my tracks, clenching the basket in my hand.
It was Kolapo. The first bastard to call me a fag.
I turned around and his eyes widened in surprise before he jumped in excitement to slap my shoulders.
“Guy, I almost didn’t recgonize you oh!” He looked at me up and down, “See as you look like man now. Wetin dey sup now?”
“Guy, leave me.” I slapped his hands away and sneered at him. “Are you stupid? Why would you call me that name?”
“What? Gay Lord?” He laughed, “That’s who you be now. Remember you never knack that fine babe for class so-”
I threw my basket away and dashed for his throat. I trapped him against the wall and clenched my fingers around his throat as he began choking for his life.
Others around rushed to the scene to pull me away, but I refused to let go. I could feel my eyes burning at the sight of Kolapo fighting for his life. This bastard needs to die, right here, right now.
“Don’t ever fucking call me that name! You hear me?!” I shouted through gritted teeth, “It’s all your fault! It’s all your fucking fault!”
“I-I am dying. St-st-stop it.” Kolapo begged.
And before it was too late, I let him go, finally coming to my senses. Shit. Oh shit. What has gotten over me?
Kolapo fell to the ground and began coughing the life out of him.
“Solomon, it’s a joke. It has always been a joke!” He shouted as he scrambled to his feet, “I’m sorry if it messed you, man. Is that why you want to kill me? Kiloshele?!”
I didn’t hesitate to waste another second in that supermarket. I turned around and ran out of the supermarket.
It was coming back. All the feels and the emotions and the anger that I thought I buried years ago were coming back to me.
That insecurity, that messed up title that made me hang my head low, was coming back to bite me in the back. Everything that I was trying to escape from came like a thief in the afternoon.
Thunder fire you, Kolapo! Argh!
“Solomon!”
I turned around to see Kolapo running after me in the parking lot. This idiot wants to die today, abi?
“Get lost!” I walked to my car.
“We need to talk.”
“Your father.”
“I’m serious. I need to tell you the truth.” Kolapo pulled me by the shoulders to stop me from walking any further.
I threw his hands away, “What stupid truth?”
“I was jealous. I was jealous of you, man.”
“Can this guy get any more stupid.” I muttered under my breath and looked at him to continue.
“I called you a fag because I was jealous. I couldn’t do what you did with Samantha in the class the other day. You knew how crazy all the guys were with that babe. None of them would have let her go scot-free without grabbing her ass or something.”
“And so?”
“You were the only real man in our class. You had so much respect for Samantha and all the girls in the class. I hated how small I felt when I found out you did not do anything with Samantha. Because I knew I could never man up like you. I would have raped her if I had the chance to. But you were a better man than me and I couldn’t bear being so triggered by your actions, guy.”
“Screw how you and all the other guys felt. You ruined my life, Kolapo. You fucked me in the head.”
“I know and I am sorry.”
I hissed, “It’s too late, man. It’s too late. Just go back to the hell you came from. Nothing you say or do will change anything that has happened.”
“Solomon-”
I entered my car and slammed the door in his face. I sped off in my car, almost hitting Kolapo by the side.
I drove on the road for hours. I had no idea where I was driving to, but I just kept driving. Until I got to an underdeveloped area and I parked my car. Then I let out a loud yell and banged the steering wheel.
Fuck!
I had no one to talk to. I had no one to vent my anger to. Not one of the one million babes I fucked came to my mind. All my guys would only tease me if I explained my story to them.
Man, I was lonely…
How the hell was I supposed to get through this? I can’t keep running forever.
Screw it.
I called my neighbour’s daughter before returning back to my estate.
I fucked the anger out of my body. My neighbour’s daughter was only 18 years old but I had turned her into a porn star overnight.
By the time I was done sleeping with her, she complained that her legs couldn’t walk like she used to before.
I removed small cash from my wallet and threw it at her, “Buy paracetamol.”
As I walked out of the room, in disgust, she shouted, “Your mates are making plans for their future, all you know how to do is distribute sperm from that rubbish plastic you call a penis. Elegede idọ (dirty pig). Wasted man.”
Then she slammed the door in my face.
I had been called many things by women in this life. But this one bruised my ego. She did not only just compare me to other men, but she also disrespected my entire existence into one thing— man-whore.
And what hurt the most was that… she was right.
I had wasted the past few years of my life trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t a fag. Trying to put on a mask to cover up how emasculated and small I felt inside. Using other women’s acceptance to bind the wound of Samantha’s rejection.
The truth was I didn’t even know who I was. I had spent all my time using sex to run away from one thing- myself.
And that was very very messed up.
By the time I got back to school after the holidays, I started to understand what my neighbour’s daughter said more.
All I was good for was my sex drive. The babes had zero respect for me.
When I began telling the girls that I was not in the mood for sex, they would call me names. Like I was not allowed to say no, because I was a “man” who was always supposed to want sex.
Even I was shocked by my sudden change. Maybe I was tired. Tired of running, I don’t know, man. Something was off.
Or maybe I was just ashamed. Maybe I started comparing myself to the other guys in my class who seemed so focused and driven. Maybe I envied the other guys for being so respected by the girls around them while they looked at me like some gigolo and shit.
There was one thing I needed to do; to go back to the man I was before that last social night, before I started getting called names. To the guy who didn’t see women as nothing but a sex object.
I missed that guy. Lowkey.
The following holiday, I opened up to my elder brother about everything, from being called gay by my guys in secondary school down to my crazy sex life these past few years.
Guess what this idiot did? He laughed his ass off.
He swore that I was a completely different stranger from the one he grew up with. From Mr Loverboy to Mr Coco. How did we get here?
But jokes aside, he told me something I would never forget.
“Man, you gotta start seeing your body as something valuable and worth desiring like we teach these women.” He said, “It’s not for everybody. Not everybody deserves access to your body. We were never taught that. Instead, we were taught the opposite- sleep with as many women as possible to be seen as a ‘man’. Fuck that shit. You hear me? Fuck that-”
“Hold on.” I cut my brother off to pick up my ringing phone.
Temilayo Doggy was calling.
“Hello?”
“Coco baby. How far? Abeg check your Snapchat.” She said and cut the call right away.
I glanced at my brother before hovering over the phone to see the snap Temi sent me.
Bum bum and red thong. I’ve found dinner.
I stood up immediately and looked at my brother, “Guy, I forgot we have group meeting in class today. We will continue this talk another day, you hear?”
I dashed for the door before my brother could say anything.
Repentance? It’s not for the hungry man.
Last last, na woman go steal your destiny.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, organizations and incidents appearing in this blog are fictitious.
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