Before you judge me, let me explain myself. My name is Tunde (not real name) — 27, final year student, and up until last semester, I was the most respected guy in my hostel. Clean record. Always neat. Always greeting elders. My neighbors even used to call me “Pastor Tunde” because of how I carry myself. But one rainy Saturday, everything scattered.
It started with a dare.
We were playing truth or dare at Sandra’s birthday. I wasn’t even meant to attend, but peer pressure na real spirit. After a few rounds of "truths" and cheap red wine, it was my turn. The dare? Simple:
> “Wear a pant and bra for one hour… and walk around the compound like it’s normal.” I should have rejected it. I should have walked out. But pride is louder than wisdom sometimes. That was the first mistake.
Sandra ran into her room and brought out this ridiculous red lace pant. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But before I could think twice, they were already chanting:
> “Pastor Tunde! Pastor Tunde!” Next thing, I entered the bathroom, changed… and the rest is disgraceful history. The Setup.
I came out. Everybody laughed. It was all fun… until power was restored and somebody streamed it LIVE on Instagram.
Within minutes, my phone started buzzing. Texts. Missed calls. My church fellowship group chat was ON FIRE. Worst part? My landlord’s daughter, Deborah, saw it — and posted the video on Twitter. “When your neighbor turns to Sister Tunde.” Over 15,000 views. In 2 hours.
The Aftermath.
That night, I locked myself inside. The next morning, I tried to sneak out in normal clothes, but too late. My lodge had turned to a paparazzi ground. Someone pasted screenshots on my door. My pastor called me for “counseling.” My crush blocked me. The only person who showed me small mercy? Sandra. She brought me bread and said, “At least you looked good in red.”
“Confession: How I Was Caught Wearing Female Panties In My Lodge”