Stud and The City: Navigating Love, Work, and living queer in Nigeria,One Bold Step at a Time ( An LVW Interview)

In a world that often insists lesbian women must shrink, tone down, or disappear, masc presenting women (Nigerian queer studs) carve out their own space with style, confidence, and a touch of defiance. We sat down with Tobi, a non-binary Nigeria-based masc-presenting person, to talk about what it really means to live authentically in Nigeria, as someone navigating love, work, friendship, and identity while unapologetically masc. From hilarious dating encounters to the pressures of being visible in professional spaces, Tobi’s stories offer a rare, unfiltered look into the joys, struggles, and everyday hustle of being a stud in the city.

Identity and Self-Expression

How do you define “masc,” “stud,” or “butch” for yourself, and what does it mean in a Nigerian context?

A masc to me is someone that expresses themselves in ways society reads as masculine, regardless of my assigned gender at birth. In Nigeria, some say tomboy, but girl-boy is the usual street slang.

When did you first realize you identified as masc or stud, and what was that moment like?  

My uncle was the first person to ever call me a tomboy. I had just gone to shave my hair when this man said "you be tomboy o". I did not know what that meant. So, I went to school the next day to ask my teacher, they explained to me and I guess that was my awakening and understanding of the identity. It felt strange.

How do you navigate public spaces while presenting masc in a society that polices gender expression? 

With as much confidence as possible. They would talk and ask foolish questions but when they see that it does not change anything, they let you be.

Are there common stereotypes about studs and butches in Nigeria that frustrate you—or that you enjoy subverting?

The idea that I want to be a man. It invalidates, removes the possibility of fluidity and tries to force me to pick a side. They also assume I am trying to reject womanhood.

Dating and Relationships

What’s dating like as a masc or stud in Nigeria? Can you share any funny or awkward stories?

Dating in Nigeria as a masc presenting person is always funny, it comes with one thing or the other. You're either stuck with someone who expects you to fit into traditional masculine roles, or you meet someone who'll call you their princess in boy clothes. You might get emotionally starved or lucky enough to find someone who loves you for who you are. It's like normal dating, just with extra spice. I had this person I was in a relationship with, they said they were bi - which I thought meant they were exclusive. Turns out Lagos people have a different definition of "bi"  They were dating a woman and a man at the same time. I visited them one day, they took me to meet this guy and said "Tobi, meet my boyfriend, we've been together for three years" I stood up and left. That was the end for me.

How do you find partners who understand and appreciate your identity?

Finding partners who love you for who you are can be tough, especially with stereotypes and misconceptions around. When someone accepts you, non-binary and all, it's a beautiful experience. You don't have to explain or justify your identity, they just get it.

Are there advantages—or challenges—to being a masc or stud in queer relationships here?

I had this discussion with my partner recently. They think masc presenting people are at the top of the food chain in the community dating scene, but I don't think so. People often approach me out of curiosity, like they're unwrapping a package, trying to figure out the "real me" behind the masc presentation. It's hard to tell if they're genuinely interested in who I am or just fascinated by my presentation. This curiosity can feel like objectification, leaving me uncertain about their intentions. Plus, being masc presenting makes me more visible, which can lead to hurt and challenges, not just advantages. It's a mix, and sometimes I feel like I'm navigating a minefield, trying to figure out who's genuinely interested and who's just curious.

How do you navigate intimacy  in a country where queer relationships are often or stigmatized?

Intimacy to me is a very touchy subject because it feels stolen, it's hidden. Any little form of PDA is avoided because before the police get you, the judgemental looks would kill you first. Even when you try to be intimate inside where you feel that it is safe, you are worried, you are thinking am I being too loud, can people hear me? Can they hear the conversations I am  having, can people hear the words I am saying? This is just conversation, not even the act of intimacy. I see straight people every time and I get very jealous of them, very very jealous, they are able to express their love outside, do things I can't do. This makes intimacy a very sensitive thing for me because mine feels stolen, it feels like I'm a criminal trying to experience a semblance of something.

Work and Career

How does being masc affect your experience at work? Do people treat you differently?

Masc presenting in office space is difficult because there are so many sacrifices to make in the average Nigerian system. Firstly, finding jobs is difficult, you have to compromise in one way or the other. Even when you work for the community,it is still difficult. For example, I was asked in an interview recently, "If we sent you to core northern Nigeria, are you willing to dress feminine to get to these people?" You see, that is compromising already and I had not even started the job. You wear outfits you don't want to, can't discuss cramps without weird looks. Some of these weird Nigerian men think you're challenging them, so they push tough jobs, expecting you to "man up". It leaves you drained and constantly exhausted.

Have you ever felt overlooked, underestimated, or tokenized because of your identity?

Yeah, it's like everywhere I go, I'm fighting to be seen as more than my identity. Like, I'm a professional, I get things done, but sometimes it feels like people only see the "masc presenting" part and make assumptions even before they look at the job. It sometimes reduces my confidence because it feels like I am constantly trying to prove myself to one person or the other.

How do you manage or regulate while still performing professionally?

I go outside and touch grass 😂😂😂. I try my best to detach myself from work after a while. I sometimes talk to my partner or I watch take in contents that reminds that I am a human being not just a staff with unnecessary KPIs

Do you think Nigerian workplaces are improving for queer people, or is it still an uphill battle?The Nigerian workspace is still a battle. Statistics show few masc presenting people in corporate jobs, and it's no surprise. Who wants to face that constant fight? There's no real change, they still expect you to conform. You still have to fight for your place, and it's beyond law, because even if they repeal the SSMPA today, it won't change much. It's human sentiment, African sentiment, Nigerian sentiment.

Community and Activism

How important is queer community for you as a masc or stud?

Community as a masc presenting person is very important to me because you can get very lonely sometimes. The stigma's real, and people think you're fighting against something, so you need people who catch you, understand you, and bring you back. It's one of the most important things, and it serves as safety and security. They're the people you'll call if anything happens. So yeah, it's very important.

Do you mentor or support other queer women, studs, or masc-presenting people?

I try as much as I can to mentor and teach other studs. Especially the younger ones. I have a TikTok page where I try to teach and talk about everything I know

Do  you ever use your visibility to advocate for queer inclusion or challenge norms?

I try as much as possible to always speak and advocate for my people.

Humor, Joy, and Daily Life

What’s one hilarious or absurd moment that happened to you because of your masc/stud identity?

I think the most hilarious moments happens like almost everyday. You enter a bus or a taxi, and they greet you "Good morning, sir." You don't say anything, then they do a double take, look at you again, and they're like, "Sorry, good morning, ma... sir." That confusion is beautiful; it's the funniest. But most of all, I like it because there's this joy it brings like oh yeah, I left you confused.

What’s the most empowering or joyful experience you’ve had being a stud or masc in Nigeria?Ah, that was my first TikTok video, talking about things that masc presenting people go through in Nigeria. The way people related to it, I had a lot of masc presenting people dropping comments about it. It was beautiful to know that the experience wasn't just mine, other people were experiencing it too. They just needed people to talk about it. It was very empowering.

Also, when I went for a training in Kenya, and out of all the people that gathered there, there were only two masc-presenting people. It was beautiful because I saw that, yes, in everything, my people were present in that gathering. My people were there, talking about health and rights. It was empowering that I was one of the representatives of my people in that space.

How do you celebrate your identity in day-to-day life?

By showing up as myself, unapologetically, in every space I'm in . Whether it's through my style, the way I express myself, or the work I do.

Do you have a signature style, gesture, or vibe that announces “I’m proud of who I am”?

I put my shirt, trouser and tie on, move on the street with my head high and not give a damn what anyone has to say.

Reflections and Forward Thinking

How do you see the future for studs, butches, and masc-presenting queer people in Nigeria?

I know it is going to take a mix of grassroots activism, international pressure, and community support to make any changes in the future. But there is hope. More people are speaking out and advocating masc people. Change is not that far anymore.

If you could change one thing about how Nigerian society views studs or masc women, what would it be?I wish they would just see them as humans. Don't try to fix them into a box, just love them or let them be.

How do you balance authenticity, safety, and joy in your personal and professional life?It's simple, I pick my battles, know what's worth the energy, and prioritize my joy. Being authentic doesn't mean being reckless; it's about being intentional and safe.

On this final day of Lesbian Visibility Week, Tobi’s story reminds us that being a stud or masc presenting person in Nigeria is about far more than fashion, confidence, or swagger. It is about navigating a world that often tries to define you before you can define yourself. From awkward bus greetings of “Good morning, sir… sorry, ma,” to the deeper realities of dating, intimacy, and work, masc-presenting people constantly move through layers of curiosity, misunderstanding, and expectation. Yet beneath those experiences is a powerful commitment to authenticity.

For Tobi, being masc is simply a truthful way of existing. Their reflections reveal how queer love, professional life, and even everyday interactions are shaped by a society that still struggles to understand gender expression outside rigid norms.

At the same time, their story is not defined by hardship alone. Community, humor, and visibility continue to create spaces of possibility. Through mentoring younger studs, sharing experiences online, and proudly showing up in every space authentically, Tobi represents a generation of queer Nigerians who refuse to disappear. They remind us that masc-presenting people are not stereotypes or curiosities, they are professionals, partners, advocates, and community builders whose lives are rich with complexity and joy. In a country where queer lives are often pushed to the margins, visibility itself becomes an act of courage. And in that visibility lies possibility, a reminder that living openly and intentionally does not just affirm one life, it helps carve out space for many more to come.