Ani Kayode

Keep This For My Sake was inspired by queer friendship, and how in a society as queerphobic as ours, they form the unit of the family for queer people who do not always have the comfort of knowing that their blood family would always be there for them. When I thought intentionally of writing queer joy, the first thing that came to my mind was to write about soulmates but not one that centered sexual and/or romantic intimacy, those come and go. But friends last lifetimes. They anchor us, protect us even when family will not. They shield us from danger, from the queerphobic state, from our own self-doubt, from the crushing loneliness of capitalist society. That is the type of love that first came to mind when I thought of queer joy.

I wanted to explore someone in the process of growth, who was finding themselves, but not in the lonely and isolating way a lot of queer Nigerians are forced to. I wanted to give them the gift of queer friendship very early in life. Because after all, I am writing of queer joy. And being queer is hard, particularly for those who transgress the institution of gender, and those who are poor. I wanted to write about dreaming, both literally and metaphorically Dreaming without bounds, without letting economic and social oppressions condition how audacious these dreams are, instead learning from them what we do not want in the world we will build from the hollow shells of this one. And of course, I wanted to write the easy comfort of having someone to dream with.

I think my favourite moment is when they finally got a place to call their own, a sanctuary of some sort. I think at that time their dreaming take the concreteness of a room of their own, where they can map out their future in the comfort of each other. And I know how well it will resonate with other queer people who have had to live in housing insecurity.

It was hard to convey that the unrequited romantic love was not so sad because it was never as important as the relationship they actually shared. So much of popular culture conditions us to structure our entire lives around romantic relationships so it’s hard to write out of that into a reality where queer friendships are just as important, to me many many times more important, than queer romantic relationships.

I hope readers can see just how much boundless joy lies in community. Being vulnerable is very very scary but it is important that we close our eyes and jump into the safety of community, even if we’ve jumped before and found there was no one to catch us. Its best to always look again and again be a there are so many people out there to catch us. Given everything we have to live with, the struggle we have to wage, we need community like that the way fish need water.