Boys Don’t Cry, Girls Don’t Fly.

My name is Wuraola. Wuraola Adeniyi. I am Nigerian. I am female. My life has been planned out for me even before I was born. With God’s plan, I have a choice whether or not to align myself with it. With society, my choice is taken away. I must get married. I must have a job. I must be quiet. I must be caged. I do not have a voice. I am an outcast and a disgrace to the family for stepping out of the box I have been placed in. Little do they know, that I am claustrophobic.

His name is Opeyemi. Opeyemi Ajayi. He is mixed. Half Nigerian, half French. He is my best friend only because we have the same hate and disgust for stereotypes. All his life, he has been taught to be an emotionless beast. He must be a hunter. He does not have the right to be weak. He is his own support system. He must take charge of everything. He cannot be raped. He must always be strong. He is viewed as feminine, and his sexuality is questioned just because he develops interest in ‘feminine’ tasks. Little do they know, that he is about to take the world by storm, with or without its permission.

This is our story.

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