Life and General Fiction Stories

One Day A Boy

What would it feel like being a boy a day?

Sometimes I sit and wonder what it would feel like waking up as a boy, and looking so convincing that none would doubt me. I wonder how I would feel like waking up to see that my breasts has been replaced with a flat chest, my vagina replaced with balls and penis and my legs all stronger or muscular.

Would I freak out? Would I be excited? Would I go along with the change?

I might panic at first, freak out the next, scream to the ceiling; then I’ll calm down and think of it in all ways. It might be quite interesting being a boy, I would think as I begin to slowly warm up to the idea. I would wear whatever I wanted without anyone to disapprove, I would ask girls out for fun, I would hang out with the guy I had a crush on and he would never know. Unlimited opportunities lay before and it made me giddy with happiness.

I got dressed in my ‘boy’ clothes and looked at the mirror. I looked good for a boy, I was sure the ladies would soon be falling over themselves to talk to me. So I went out.
But nobody told me how different and difficult it was being a boy. I saw my friends but I couldn’t approach them because of my new identity. I couldn’t even talk to them.

I walked around for a time till I saw a group of guys. My first instinct as lady was to avoid eye contact and walk away but then I remembered I was a guy now, so I relaxed and I walked over to them.. They were playing a kind of game which involved throwing money on the ground. So I waited around to watch. Not too long they asked me to join; that if I played 50 naira I would get 100 and so on.

And so I searched my pocket and found a squeezed 50 naira which I put down. I won 100 naira, they all hailed me and I continued playing with me winning till the tides turned against me. I had won about 1000 naira already when I decided to put in the whole money to get double the amount but I lucked out, and all my money disappeared just like that. I got angry and demanded for my money back. A burly man among them with a chipped tooth broke the bottle he was holding and threatened to break my head with it if I did not leave there fast. I ran away as fast as my legs could take me.

I walked for a while when I was accosted by SARS who claimed I was a yahoo boy. I denied it, but they didn’t believe me and told me they were going to search me. After searching, they came upon my phone and saw some pictures which they said were my client’s pictures. All pleas and entreaties from me that I was not a yahoo guy fell on deaf ears. I was taken to their station, and beaten till I could not longer remember my name.

Then I was placed in a cell with 12 other cell mates who stank of body odour and feaces. I dared not talk because of their frightening appearance. I was made to fan Capo, the leader of the cell the whole night and when at dawn I laid my weary form to sleep I was called out from the cell by an officer and given my clothes, then I was released.

I walked away dispirited, weary and angry after some time, I just sat down on the ground and cried.

Look at you, you no even shame sef, big boy like you dey cry.” An orange seller spit out derisively looking at me with disgust. Then the okada riders watching us burst into laughter at my tears and pronounce me lily-livered.

And I would cry bitterly because it was the only way I knew, even though I was a guy outwardly I still had my feminine emotions and instincts.

There ends my muse. I’d rather be a girl and experience a thousand menstrual pains than be a boy for just one day.

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