My best friend Mike called me today. We haven’t seen each other much lately. It hasn’t escaped my attention that since George came into my life I’ve been purposely neglecting Mike. I’ve known Mike for years; we were room mates in college and I still bear the emotional scars of my secret unrequited nightly lust. Then Mike was the perfect man I knew my family prayed I would become and for many years I tried but failed to become that other man.
Mike has invited me to his house tomorrow afternoon for some nyama choma with beers, that seemingly benign social activity enjoyed and frequently abused by many Kenyans. I instinctively said yes before remembering that I now come as part of a unit that must include George, so I said to Mike I’ll bring a friend. I could hear the raised eyebrow of disbelief in his voice when he joked ‘eh you found yourself a girlfriend, bring her along and if she’s hot then we can compare notes ha ha ha,’ not harmless under different circumstances especially coming from this philandering married man. I told him no it’s a dear friend called George that I want you to meet and he breathed disappointedly oh, bring him along.
George is looking forward to meeting Mike and his family. He understands how important they are to me so George says it’s a small but crucial step we should take for the sake of expanding our joint social circle. I agree but I’m also anxious about tomorrow because Mike is a vocal homophobe from whose acidic scrutiny I want to shield my lover George.