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Book Title

Voices of Hate

Tony Ademiluyi

Word Count



60,000 - 80,000



What's it all about?

The LGBTQ Community suffer a lot of violence in Africa and personally I condemn the acts of physical and emotional violence that they suffer. The novel is set in Nigeria - the most populous country in Africa and the protagonist - a round character is openly gay. It chronicles the day to day challenges and agony of living in Nigeria as a queer person.


Chapter One – In the Beginning 1993, Lagos
Charles Williams quickly got out of bed. Today was a red letter day in his life as it was his 10th birthday. What was so special about it? He asked aloud. The only memory he had of a birthday was when he was one year old and even that was only by pictures in the family album. He tried his best to recollect it but his mind went blank each time he tried.
He hated the fact that he was an only child. There was no one bound by blood to talk to, play with or even to fight with. He only knew about sibling rivalry from books. He wished he was close to his cousins so as to fill up the lacuna but he also hardly knew them either. He recalled crying so hard for his mum to take him on family occasions but they seemed determined to make him metamorphose into what he termed ‘African Oyinbo’ – A black man with the mannerisms of a Caucasian.
He pulled off his black pyjamas and put on his towel and walked slowly to the tub.
‘Gosh!’ he exclaimed! The shower wasn’t running. He hated going outside the compound to fetch water whenever the frequent power outage occurred. The government owned Electricity Company was nicknamed ‘Please Hold Candle Now’. It used to be ‘Never Expect Power Always’. The change of name also led to a change of its nickname.
He hated the queues that always formed as neighbours from the other flats took their turns to fetch water. His family lived in a three bedroom flat in a two storey building as well a boys quarters at the back. Why did they always have to queue? For crying out loud, this was Lagos – the land of brutal street hustle. The nickname of Las Gidi was the testimony of the rough and rugged nature of her residents. Why then was there a silly queue just to fetch water? Shouldn’t it be based on the strength or cunning of the flat residents? The thought of it made his stomach turn.
‘Good Morning’ young man came a booming voice from the sitting room.
‘Oh Boma!’ Good Morning Sir. I am sorry I didn’t see you as my mind was carried away.
‘Really!’ I was even about to say a penny for your thoughts. What is eating up my young prince?
‘Prince!’ I have no royal blood flowing in my veins. I have even traced it to the era of King Mansa Musa.’
‘Hahahahahhahahahahaahaa!’ I never knew you were now a historian.
‘I am. Mom bought me a book on African history for my 6th birthday.
‘Yes I remember seeing the book and how you used to lock yourself indoors to read it.
‘It helped shape my views on the fact that Africa

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