Transgender World presents the voice of a transgender woman fleeing persecution in Uganda.
By Jack Molay
The anti-LGBTQ laws of Uganda
Uganda has some of the harshest anti-LGBTQ laws in the world. Same-sex sexual activity is illegal for both men and women in Uganda.
Even though the Ugandan government argue that their homophobic and transphobic laws are anti-colonial, the policy has, in fact, roots in British colonial laws introduced when Uganda was a British protectorate. These days right-wing American Evangelicals do their best to fan the flames of queer-phobia in Uganda.
This policy is accompanied by deeply held homophobic and transphobic beliefs in large parts of the population. We have already reported on N., a lesbian LGBTQ-activist who fled to the Kakuma camp in Kenya when her mother and her sister were killed by her fellow villagers.
Queer life in Kenyan refugee camps
Kenya may be a little bit more lenient when it comes to practicing its own anti-LGBTQ laws (“sodomy” is punishable by 21 years’ imprisonment), but the camps have their violent queer-phobic mobs, so you are never safe.
Queer Ugandan refugees in Kenya. Photo: Brian Inganga/AP Photo
From Kenya to South Sudan
This has led some LGBTQ-refugees to flee from the Kakuma camp in Kenya to another camp in South Sudan. One reason is the hope of becoming part of some of the Western refugee repatriation programs. That might seem like a long shot, but some have actually managed to get to the US and Canada.
We are deliberately not giving you the name of the South Sudan camp here, as the local authorities are searching the web in order to identify queer and trans refugees.
South Sudan criminalizes sexual activity between males and the gender expression of trans women. Neither Kenya nor South Sudan accept being queer or trans reason for being given a refugee status. There are clear limits to what the UN refugee agency, UNHCR, can or will do to protect them, even though the organization clearly condemns anti-LGBTQ violence.
We are in touch with several refugees in Kenya and South Sudan, and today we have the privilege of sharing one such life story with you, namely the story of A., a transgender woman who is now living in a camp in South Sudan. Her story can give you a glimpse into the life of LGBTQ refugees in both Kenya and South Sudan.
We know the real identity of A, but will not reveal it here due to fear of persecution. The original text has been anonymized for that reason.
The life of A
My name is A., and I am 37 years old Ugandan. I have a bachelor’s degree from a university in Kampala, and I have worked in various fields, including banking, administration, customer service, and social work. I have always prided myself on my education and professional skills, but life as an LGBTQ person in Uganda has forced me to face some of the harshest realities imaginable.
I grew up in Jinja, Uganda, raised by my grandmother after my parents were unable to care for me. My mother abandoned me when I was just a baby, and my father died when I was only a year old.
The Jinja Nile Bridge
Despite these challenges, my grandmother provided me with love and stability until her death in 2019. My upbringing, however, was marred by the harsh realities of being different in a society that doesn’t easily accept those who don’t conform to the traditional expectations of gender and sexuality.
Being different
From a young age, I knew that I was different. I began to recognize my attraction to the same gender and struggled to understand my feelings amidst a society that fiercely upheld heteronormative values.
As I navigated my teenage years, I was drawn to boys, but those feelings were never acknowledged or accepted. My self-expression, which sometimes included clothing choices that blurred gender lines, made me a target for mockery and ridicule. The boys I had crushes on were seen as forbidden, and I lived in constant fear of being found out.
Violence
Growing up as an LGBTQ individual in Uganda was incredibly difficult. I faced relentless bullying, harassment, and rejection—not just from peers but from my own family. I was forced to endure physical and emotional violence, including one harrowing incident in 2002, where I was publicly stripped by my peers who questioned my gender.
The bullying continued throughout my life, but it reached a breaking point when I was arrested at the age of 16 after being caught with my boyfriend.
My family, including religious leaders, condemned me, and I was beaten and rejected by those I had once considered family. I was shunned and made to feel like a disgrace.
Workplace discrimination
In the workplace, I encountered further discrimination. I was fired from jobs because of my sexual orientation, as many employers in Uganda hold deeply homophobic views. My attempts to find work were thwarted by my family’s influence, who ensured that my efforts were sabotaged. I was left financially dependent on my boyfriend, and my prospects seemed bleak.
In 2017, my family forced me into an arranged marriage with a woman, even though I was already in a serious relationship with my boyfriend.
My family found out about our relationship and, in retaliation, I was arrested and once again ostracized. This led to my final job termination and left me in a precarious position, financially and emotionally.
My family told me never to seek help from anyone, including organizations like Icebreakers Uganda and Happy Family Shelter, who tried to support me. This cycle of rejection and violence ultimately led me to make the difficult decision to leave Uganda.
From Kenya to South Sudan
I fled to Kenya in 2021 , seeking safety and a fresh start. But even in Kenya’s refugee camps, I faced constant threats, violence, and discrimination. The environment was hostile, and I found no protection from the UNHCR. Fearing for my life, I eventually made my way to a camp in South Sudan, hoping to find a safe place for LGBTQ refugees like myself.
From the Kakuma Camp in Kenya (UNHCR)
Unfortunately, life in this camp has not been much better. We are discriminated against by the host community, and on December 27th, we were raided, beaten, and had all our belongings—including food—stolen. Our lives here are constantly at risk, and I fear for my safety every day.
A. was beaten up in the camp. (Private photo)
As an LGBTQ person living in this camp, I am forced to hide who I am, not just for my safety, but for survival. We live in a country that does not accept us, and we are subjected to violence and abuse simply for being who we are.
The constant fear, combined with the lack of basic resources, has made life unbearable. As someone with hypertension, my health is also at risk, as I lack access to necessary medication and proper care.
Hope for a better future
Despite these hardships, I remain hopeful for a better future. I am an educated person with a strong desire to rebuild my life. I want to find a place where I can live freely and authentically, where I can work again and contribute to society. I want to love openly, find a partner, and live a life where I am not forced to hide who I am.
My dream is to find safety, stability, and acceptance things that have been out of my reach for so long.
I ask for help not just for myself, but for all LGBTQ refugees facing similar struggles. I seek food, clothing, and medical care, but more than that, I long for a chance to live the life I’ve always dreamed of—free from fear, discrimination, and violence.
With your support, I hope to one day build a future where I can be myself, contribute to the world around me, and finally find the peace and acceptance I’ve always craved.
A.
Main illustration: Atlas Studio
