Dr. Cum: Tackling Parenting Issues.

Today, I’m writing on an unusual subject as I’m reminded of Frank Olize. No, I don’t think a lot of us know him – yes, you will in a moment, but first, permit me to digress.

I still remember how growing up was after dad passed away. You know, it isn’t that fresh in my memory but there just are certain details I seem unable to forget – one of which carries a secret you soon would read about.


The year must have been ’97/­’98, I was still a bubbly kid, promising I must say, was through with primary school and was going to join a “low-tuition” private secondary school later that year. However, even though the reality of the situation hadn’t fully dawn on me as at then – I’d just lost my dad and mama had transposed from her usual “all-smiles-nurturing” self to a stern, very strict, fire spewing mother that always sent cold shivers running down my spine each time she “shouted” instructions at me. Can’t blame her you know, the times had hit her hard – being left alone to cater for 6 kids, 5 of which were females, while depending on a Government paid job that fetched just little over 5 thousand naira monthly – could have caused such transformation in anyone. Besides, the traditional African Society projects the father figure as a “stern looking man that instills fear in the minds of his kids,” thinking of it now – I guess mama was being both – a mother and the African Father.



Anyways, before long – I’d developed such fear for my ma that the once open minded, bubbly kid I was gradually retired to the background, replaced by the facade of a meek, simple, scared, little, minor with such DARK SECRETS -but who was I to tell it all to? My ma who had suddenly become “Margaret Thatcher?” My sisters? They were more interested in being regarded as “elders,” or my friends? They never even understood pretty much a whole lot about themselves, talk little of me. LOL. And yeah, speaking of DARK SECRETS, I still remember being mighty shocked – and at same time – very much hopeful for more thrills upon the very first time I saw myself ejac. I’d accidentally discovered it while bathing – soaped up my privates, and – for the first time, tried using just my hands (no sponge) to wash “it” that day…the sensation got “sweeter” and “sweeter” till I saw myself ejaculate. It felt real good but something about it still felt “weird” – thought about telling ma for a minute, BUT “she is going to shout and lash at me.” And that was it – that was how I never mentioned a thing to her.

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Was that my “secret”?

NO, definitely not, but then, I sure had discovered some pleasure in 1 (kept from mama) and I was going to have more.

In that same year, a family friend of our’s – who’d been denied VISA to the UK – came around (with her own fam – just 2 boys) to temporarily reside with us pending on when her VISA would be granted. I became friends with the younger of the boys – his name? Tunde (not his real name). We were of same age group and got really fond of each other – but little did I know what I was in for.

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The times never held out so much before doling out an experience at me. Tunde had developed an act he always put up every time we were alone. He would start mimicking the ladies; cat-walking, speaking like a female, gesturing with his hands and urging me to role play as a man. It was fun, we always laughed and made such silly jokes till – I think – the third time we were at it. The “drama” had started as usual that day but Tunde did something out of the usual – he suddenly kissed me, rubbing on my privates, turning around pants down and beckoning on me to put “it” on him. Seriously, I’m not going to try air-brushing the story, I was aroused – and was still trying to figure out how to try my hands on it when.


*the DOOR was…”what da???”


…it flung open? “fuck!” Hurriedly tried to wear…too late!

“Stop right there!” My sister – obviously had been listening in on the scene the whole time. Shocked as hell, I felt like disappearing while Tunde was butts out, a blank look on his face.

“So this is what you both have been doing…ehhnn…you­ have been practising homo abi?” ‘Da hell does that even mean?’ Was still wondering when, as she walked away, she…

“I know what to do, I will tell mummy when…”

Jeez! I felt like I’d been hit by a million buses. Adjusting shorts, scampering at the door, falling, picking up countlessly, chasing, catching up, kneeling and pleading like my whole life depended on it…did she accept?

That event marked the end of my friendship with Tunde. But did I start having “homosexual urges”? NO. The fear of mama finding out never allowed such. And, did I continue keeping “dark secrets”? Oh Yes! Infact, I became more careful, it even spiraled into the future – I’d turned a MASTER ESCAPIST for several years till I got over it – however, I’d hurt loads of people in the process too, I’m not proud of this. *a topic for some other post.*

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In any case, at times I marvel at how I ever became a more up front and blunt individual today, and just can’t help but ask 1 question – “what if my sis hadn’t shown up that day in my past?” Oh, I probably would have continued – with the act, enjoying it, we would have done it countless times afterwards and – I, most likely, would have turned gay in the distant future? Hmmm…I’m pretty sure that, while I MAY never have found it easy accepting that choice for myself, I – despite loving my ma to pieces – may have found it extremely difficult forgiving her as an adult for not being open and nurturing to the naive little me when I really needed her to be.

The point to all these – discipline is fine but first, be your child’s friend.

“Do you know where your children are?”
– Frank Olize
(Former NTA Newsline Anchor)

To be human is beautiful.

Dr. Cum

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