NEW RAIN An Anthology of Queer life, Vulnerability and Resilience 2021 Minority Womyn in Action Kenya 1 Copyright © 2021 is held by Minority Womyn in Action, Kenya. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, re-designed, photocopied without the express written permission of the copyright owners. Story Editing, cover design, and book design by Carlo Kui and 17 Minority Womyn in Action members. INTRODUCTION Queer life, vulnerability and resilience By Muthoni Ngige The publication of this anthology provides a rare opportunity to see behind the distortion of facts concerning the life, desires, and motivations of lesbian, bisexual, queer women, and non-binary folks. The texts are shaped by the nature of Kenya’s social context that denies the existence of same sex-sexuality whilst imposing heterosexuality as the norm thereby normalizing the many forms of othering, prejudice, discrimination, and violence meted on LGBTI+ folks. The book title New Rain claims an intimate connection with rain as an assertion, affirmation and testament of rebirth queer folks must claim in the Kenyan context that is hostile to the growth of queer love. This production gestures towards the growing confidence of queer communities, deliberately locating their existential experience in Kenyan history and in the world by imagining better realities that do not have to translate, bend, fold, or censor to be acceptable or tolerated. It attempts to document the force of will and volition in the metamorphosis of the queer self, shifting away from the chaos of subjugation that define everyday queer life towards a Re-birth: vision of renaissance, collective liberation, and futurity. The selection is wide ranging so that every reader can find something of interest. It is a necessary reading to spark conversation, connections, ideas both within the community and beyond whilst claiming legitimacy to the growing body of work on the black queer experience in the African continent. Here is to the futures we deserve in our lifetime. This anthology was made possible through contributions from Lesbian, bisexual women, queer women, and non-binary folks Members of Minority Womyn in Action Kenya. Thank you for sharing your stories and yourselves with us. CONTENTS LOVE, DATING, AND INTIMACY 1 LESIONS AND SCARS 21 IDENTITY AND BELONGING 35 RELIGION AND FAITH 40 QUEER PLACES AND SPACES 44 LOVE, DATING, AND INTIMACY salacious adventures 1 Just for Tonight By Sonia Audi What do you say to a dance beyond stolen glances at Club LA? To lust unleashed past stolen moments in the night, When you touch yourself to your memories of me? I want to get downright dirty with you on this dance floor, Watch you set fire to my crotch as your waist whines to Summertime, And my hungry hips seek you like we are in Njaanuary, And you are the ever-elusive shilling to my Kenyan. I want to feel your breath on my neck when you come up for air, hot, hungry, tinged with the scent of Tusker and tobacco, Giving me a heady rush and a pool between my thighs, I want to meet you outside the concrete walls of your ego, Share me without the clanging of my iron armor. When I finally savor the want on your lips. Just for tonight. 2 My Evening Muse By Lucy Oluoch It is around 5:30 in the evening, the streets of Nairobi are crazy busy. Most people are crisscrossing the city to find their way back home or ran errands. I am exhausted; the air is riddled with a multitude of scents that my stomach growls. I immediately put my mask back on, even though it makes me feel like I am suffocating. I get to Odeon stage, to board Lopha’matatus to my place. The queue was long. Usually, I plug in my earphones and distract myself with a podcast or music the entire way, but on this day, I just was not feeling it. It had been a long day; I just wanted some peace and quiet. As I am scanning around, I see her. This handsomely beautiful human with well-maintained long dreadlocks which had 3 rainbow beads visibly showing on them. Wow sasawa! She was wearing black sweatpants, white T-shirt and had some dope headphones around her neck. My mind went like “Hapo Sawa”. Intrigued, I kept leaning over to check her out, curious whether her masculine-presenting appearance and rainbow hair beads were a sign that she was queer. The more I looked at her, the more I wanted to say hi or, better still, have a conversation with her. I kept hoping we got into the same matatu so maybe I would get a chance to shoot my shot. Fortunately, we got into the same vehicle, but she sat in the back and I sat two rows in front of her. Regardless, it was a win. Normally when I board, I pay fare and then take a nap till I reach my destination. This time I was fidgety the entire ride, anxious that she would alight before the last stage, and I would never see her again. I was hoping we alight at the same stage so I could talk to her. Sighting the last stop, I fully focused my concentration on approaching her by sorting out pickup lines waiting for the moment I get to shoot my shot 3 and hoping this was a sign that I must get the girl! Finally, the matatu conductor alighted and shouts. “Mwisho, mwisho,” aggressively asking us to get off. I gave way to an elderly lady, so “my person” ends up getting off before me. I alighted and looked around frantically for her. Eventually, I see her hop onto a motorbike. And just like that, my evening muse along with my dreams of bagging her were shattered. I sulked all the way home. 4 About last night By Loise Kimeu and Susan Irungu Silk and satin lingerie from Mr. price Flowing delicately on her curvaceous body Bone straight wig with secretary glasses Closing a trendy modernistic elegance. I can’t stop staring at her, For she is a beauty to reckon She smiles and kills my mind, I want her, I want to kiss her, I want to touch her, I want to lick her, I want all of her. Her skin so soft Her boobs tender and inviting. Her lips moist Her ass, my oh my I can hear her moaning, And it turns me on more and more, She moans louder, Begging me not to stop Her body gives pause, For our mental applause Both our spirit’s surrender For a standing ovation. 5 GENESIS By Sonia Audi There are days, like today, when I wake up with an incessant throbbing in my head and the taste of bile in my mouth. I often swear on my mother never to touch alcohol again. But alas! Here we are again. I was at a conference; it was at one of the few spaces where I have time to catch up with queer friends and acquaintances I don’t see often. So, I do my due diligence with my usual dose of randy conversations, flirtations, and politicking over booze. At dawn, we created our own after-party. I sat on a bed opposite my two good friends and fellow activists Lily and Bella, downing shots of whiskey with the occasional cigarette and blunt breaks. I was ecstatic. My crush, Eve, was in the room. A hearty rash caused by a pot-pourri of her perfume, alcohol and tobacco did not replace the throbbing that had been tormenting me for the better part of the day. My heart went on a mud race every time our hands accidentally grazed a little too many times, but I liked it. We played one drinking game after another, laughing loudly and getting nearly drunk. It was a game of truth or dare; to avoid a crazy dare, I picked truth, not knowing it would force me to become explicit about my feelings. It terrified me! “Dedicate a song to the person on your left,” they prompted me. Guess the first song that came to mind! Just guess! “I found a love, for me…” by Ed Sheeran. Her luscious lips broke into the most beautiful smile; it was warm, re-served, the genuine kind that reaches the eyes, making them squint. We dispersed when the game was over. Eve followed me back to my seat, leaned in, and hugged me. I was flushed. Blood rushed to my face. I knew right then I wouldn’t spend the night alone in my hotel room. The steamy kisses started the moment we stepped out of Lilly’s room, obviously drunk and staggering. My room was just next door, purposefully, so I didn’t have to stager too far. We stumbled in after I fumbled with the keys at the door, ripe 6 with excitement like a kid high on a sugar rush. We fell on the nearest of the two beds in the room, me first and her on top. It had been a while since I had been intimate, so much so my privates ached. My hands roamed free, cupping her breasts through my light jumper, tracing down her spine, grabbing her butt, caressing her, and slowly traversing through her thighs to an unexpected bulge in her crotch. “Fuck,” I cursed silently in my mind. Shook by this new discovery, I froze! How did it not cross my mind? I mean, I knew Eve was a transgender woman, and we had met at a support group for intersex, transgender, and gender non-conforming people prior to meeting again at this conference. What was I supposed to do? Except for an ex-boyfriend I had dated five years ago, I had only ever been with people with vulvas. Wait, was I offending her because of my hands on her genitalia? Was she comfortable? How did she have sex? Why didn’t I ask prior to all this? Fuck! I panicked! “Are you OK?” Eve’s concern laden voice snapped me out of my stupor. My poker face was failing me big time and my eyes were popping out of their sockets, not to mention I had stopped breathing completely. It relieved me that the lights were off, and the room was only dimly lit by the lights seeping in through the curtains from the outside. It was enough cover for me to inhale and exhale, pace my breathing, and compose myself. “Yes” I smiled, hoping this was reassuring enough. Hoping against all hope I had not ruined the moment, I really liked her, and I wanted her so bad. To inhale more of her sweet floral fragrance, to gaze upon the glow of her light brown complexion and delve deeper into the brilliance of her mind. “I don’t know what to do”, I shyly admitted because I have learned from my years of dykehood was that sex was a lifelong learning process. She let out a cute giggle. “I will show you”, taking my hand, she led me to her perineum and moved my fingers in a rubbing motion and gradually we 7 were back to our passionate dance of gliding, grinding and everything in between. 8 I will be back for more By Smiley When Rihanna said “We found love in a hopeless place…” she must have been referring to us. I met Shiru in a WhatsApp group where she was an admin. At first, I did not like her. She seemed too serious about life and would not allow us to have some fun in the group. With time, I started liking her, and I slid into her DM’s. Unexpectedly, we ended up having deep conversations daily and, with time, my liking for her grew even more. The day we were supposed to meet finally came. I was so anxious and desperately wanted to make a good impression. I showered and shaved the W.A.P. We were to meet at a hotel. I knew the chance of getting laid that night was minimal, but I had to be ready. It rained that evening; she requested me to accompany her to her place. Man, I was going through a major dry spell; I was so fucked! Or maybe the great vagina goddesses had heard my horny pleas. We got to her place barely dry. She graciously gave me a heavy blanket to keep me warm. I do not know if it was the house light, but she looked even more beautiful; her dimples beckoned me to stare. I kept her company as she prepared us a meal, trying desperately to calm my horny ass down. Her face so close to mine… I could smell her strawberry scented lip balm. I thought I was doing so well until she leaned in and kissed me. All my self- control flew out the window, and I kissed her back. Shiru’s lips were like an aphrodisiac, mixed with a Pandora’s box effect, making fireworks glow inside me from her touch. My heart raced as she sat on my lap. I wanted her so badly I was afraid I would go too far. We gave in, rewarding our bodies with the much-needed orgasms that felt like I was levitating off the ground. It was ravishing. At that moment, I knew it was the best sex I ever had. I told my buddy later; I knew I would be back for more. 9 COVID-19 Treasure By purple diva and Perpetual I never anticipated this experience, Love that made me love me more. About 11 months ago, I met a lady but was too afraid to tell her I was falling for her. Shortly after we were friends, the good Lord came to my rescue; she broke the silence and professed her love for me. I was speechless for a moment because I was not used to girls approaching me. Something in me screamed she was the right person for me. You healed me, With your love and care My wounds became scars, And the scars slowly faded. I trusted her with my past. It felt like the right thing to do. In that moment of vulnerability, she looked at me with the kindest eyes, her lips folding into a beautiful smile, and our lips locked. My heart was racing, breath quickening, and my palms got sweaty. The chemistry was so beautiful; we gelled in ways I did not think possible. I was incredibly relieved that I started crying. Warm is her breath, Sweet are her kisses, Slowly I crave for more, More of her love in me I am certain and sure, I love you, my treasure. 10 Wifey for Lifey By Millicent Odhiambo As we stepped out of the club after an evening of merrymaking and dancing, the night air welcomes us. It was cool, and the stars adorned the sky like a possessive lover embracing their significant other. We walked home, reminiscing and laughing in pure delight. Luckily, we only lived a couple of blocks away, it was the best 15 minutes. It is both a mystery and profound joy how 8 years down the line, my wife gives me butterflies. As soon as we stepped into the house, I could not hold in my pent-up feelings any longer. The kids were already asleep in their rooms, so I took her in my arms and passionately kissed her. Like it was our last day on earth. It started in the corridor as we gradually made for the bedroom. Caressing hungrily and ripping each other’s clothes one by one. I nibbled on her ear gently and whispered sweet nothings. Her breath splattered on my neck like fragments of glass. I could not help but moan. Every fiber of hair on my body lit up in goosebumps. She pushed me; my body hurled against the spring mattress. I stare at her in absolute lust. Undressing whatever perennial insecurities lay beneath her panties. I savor the moment. With her hands running circles around my body, my clit throbbed so hard I thought it would explode. I kissed her cheeks, licked her neck and slowly made my way downwards as I reach her already upright nipples. I nibbled, licked, and sucked them like the last batch of ice cream on a hot day. Moving from one to the other as my hands caressed her thighs. Her moans grew louder. In beautiful harmony, as Elani’s song Nikupende. I held myself back up, looked at her for a few seconds, and as she opened her eyes, we smiled at each other. I bit my lip in indulgence. My hand gently tugging at her freshly done braids. Her moans grew louder. Passion stained the room like a vanilla-scented candle. An aura so divine that if anyone 11 walked into the room at that exact moment, they would spin. The gods certainly blessed this union. In a brief bout of distraction, I thought to myself that probably I must have done something right in another lifetime to deserve such a goddess for a wife. I wanted more of her; I wanted to go deeper, to take the depth of her soul. Letting go of her hair, I pulled myself from her mouth to drain the life off her navel and lace her body with kisses. I coveted the taste of her every inch, so I left nothing to chance. My tongue took to a mind of its own, playing hopscotch with her short pubic hair. My breath lingered all over her vagina. She arched her back as a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. I had finally reached the promised land. My clit throbbed some more in want, and my entire body was screaming out of me to prolong the pleasure. I only let her feel my hot breath for a second or two before embarking on exploring her thighs. I kissed and licked every inch of her inner and outer thigh with precision. I could have been mistaken for an artist working on their next sculpture. She pulled up, unable to hold herself any longer from the burning desire to feel my vagina on hers. She slowly parted her legs, pulling mine closer to her as we began thrusting in a rhythm only best known to us. I felt her warmth and wetness on mine, and it felt like a place I would stay in till kingdom come. She was now shaking under me, holding me so tight I could feel her nails dig into my skin. In that moment, she moaned so sweetly, calling out my name as we orgasmed together, writhing with pleasure against our white, love-scented sheets. 12 Matatu Sexcapades By Neymar I had not seen my girlfriend in a month; it felt like forever, and I missed her terribly. She came back into town on a Friday, and instead of cuddling and tearing each other’s clothes off, we agreed to go out raving first. So, we did. And it was fun; drinks, marinate, marinate, wamlambez. If you know, you know. The party was lit. Bae was grinding on me so hard I was dying to get home at this point and eat her out. We were making out so much we had to sneak out to the backstreet. I am sure you have heard the stories about backstreet chronicles. If you have not, it is skunking, sweet, touchy-touchy sessions, without judgmental, prying eyes. It was obvious we could not keep our hands off each other, so we headed out. Un-fortunately, a friend accosted me at the exit and begged to spend the night at my place since she was kidogo stranded. I did not know how to say no. It was a little past midnight. We walked to Railway’s stage downtown and boarded one of those ‘nganya’ matatus to Rongai. We sat on the second last seat from behind, busy making out while my friend had passed out. Bae’s curves dripping from her body-hugging chiffon dress. I certainly could not wait till we got home. My fingers tangled in bae’s hair; I help her onto my lap. Amidst swimming in her warm, wet mouth, I keep looking out for anyone coming our direction but mostly got carried away and pretended there was a blackout curtain camouflaging us. I bury my face in her neck and whisper, “you smell like dandelions”. Her response was moaning into my ears so loud the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright like a soldier. I tried to resist because we were in a matatu. I did, but she draws me in between her chest and my hands devour her body. 13 The conductor walks by collecting fare; bae jumps quickly off my lap and pretends to be fixing her hair. Luckily, he is high like a kite and seems not to care. Music was blasting and the few people still left had a PHD in minding their own business. No sooner had he left than we were back at it, romancing, kissing, touching. Now we knew time was not on our side, so she guided my hand inside her aching pussy and straddled it. My mouth on her soft tender boobs, just sucking them hungrily. I must admit I was a little afraid, but not enough to stop. Oh! she moaned so loud I said, “babe, shhh!”, in panic. She ignores me, grabs my neck, and pulls me in closer, “you like that dzzaddy?” she asks and then bites her lip teasing me, riding me, and driving me crazy. Thank God! We cut the humping short when the conductor said our stage is next. I woke my drunk friend up, and we alighted, people looking at us weirdly, I bet they heard or saw something. I could not wait to get home, I swear. 14 Zikki By Peace Loise You could almost touch the sexual tension in the air. The people in the quiet vehicle could hear how loud my heart was beating if they really listened. It was about to be our first night together and my first time with a woman. I was so excited! I certainly couldn’t believe I was going through with it. We looked at each other nervously. Zikki gave me a long gaze, and bit her lower lip. “Damn! I am crazy about her!”, my thoughts screaming at me. As the vehicle swerved or came to a sharp halt, our thighs touched. It felt like an electric current run through my body each time. Each damn time! I had never felt this way about a woman. My Christian faith had sup-pressed all the small flings I almost had. I remember praying to God to abolish this attraction I felt for Zikki. We would have such a good time together, sadly guilt would surely follow. I would exhaust myself with questions that would leave me heavy-laden… “Why wouldn’t God answer my prayers? Was I really doing something wrong? How would something so demonized feel so heavenly?” We got home, anticipation rising like a tide to a wave. She led me to the bedroom, skipping all the hocus-pocus small talk and awkward moments. “Is it so terrible that I so desperately wanted to know what her lips tasted like? Was it abominable to be so curious as to memorize her the way my skin erupts when she touches me? As to crave the warmth of her skin on mine. To utter her name in riveting pleasure?” I drove myself crazy with all these questions as we walked down the corridor. Her hand in mine. I can feel myself dripping into my knickers. Ah! the longing for Zikki intensifies. We got to the bedroom and stand beside the bed. My heart racing and my knees shaking, Zikki holds my dainty waist and pulls me in for a kiss. I lose my breath and she let me catch it for a second, with the most beautiful smile 15 splashed across her face. Zikki inhales me back into her soft, caramelized lips. It was like kissing the lips of an angel. “I want you”, she whispered into my ear. Even before I could respond, she continued, “May I go further?”. “I want you too,” I say eagerly. “Annddd, yes you may,” impressed by her consent concern. But nothing else matters. She spins me around; I chuckle in delightful shock. Unzipping my short red dress, I surrender to the shudder of her warm fingers tracing along my spine. As I turn back around, I yield fully to her dominance. Zikki’s mouth hovers across my breasts. The sensation made my head swim and my body tremble ever so lightly. Now lying on the bed, in my God-given suit, she kissed my quivering belly. Slowly and purposefully began her southerly progression. She pushed my thighs apart; her tongue leaves a path traveling between my melanin magic-infused thighs. My clit fills up with blood and grows bigger, throbbing against their lips. Then she arrived at the source of my anticipation. I gasp softly and bite my lip. My expectant petal opens up, moist like a dewy rose. Desperately, I grab her dreadlocks as my moaning gets louder and louder. I could feel the orgasm buildup so intensely, almost like I am losing my mind. She keeps going in, her tongue coyly slurping my insides. The world comes to a halt. One hand grappling for the bed rest and the other holding onto her arm, as I feel this unexplainable urge to explode. My body quaked in spasm, and a scream escaped my lips. It was a state of pure bliss, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. My heart was still pounding and my breath heavy when Zikki leans in and kisses me. I felt heaven within her embrace. 16 Ketty By Elizabeth In February 2014, I subscribed for gym sessions at my neighborhood fitness center in Kilifi. It was literally a stone-throw away from my apartment; I decided to take advantage of the proximity. One Friday evening, amidst my training, I noticed a lovely lady on the treadmill next to mine. I was wildly curios and very keen on getting a good look at her. She was wearing a pink set of training sweats and her cleavage was showing. I stopped to catch my breath, meanwhile sneaking glances at her as I pretend to pat my face dry. It was obvious I would get caught staring, so I called it a day and headed over to the changing room for a quick shower. The water was lukewarm, and I certainly enjoyed it. Humming in pleasure, I hear footsteps, closer and closer to towards me. I wrapped up the shower and headed over to my locker. Just at the corner, between the showers and the lockers, I bumped into her. My towel almost fell. Giggling, we both said hi, almost in unison. I stretched out my right hand and said, “I’m Chichi”. “I’m Ketty” she replied with a huge grin on her face. My left hand desperately holding on to the towel, so it dares not fall. “Nice to meet you,” I rush to say before it gets awkward. “You must be new here?” I remark, trying to keep the conversation going. Soon we had swapped contacts, and I embarked on my short trek home. On Saturday, I travelled out of town, so I did not go to the gym. At about 8pm, I got a message from Ketty. “Hey, I didn’t see you at the gym today, are you okay?”. I smiled as I read it through for the third time, wondering how best to respond. Instead, I called, and we talked for almost an hour. I swear I do not know how, but we had agreed to go out on a date as soon as I was back. Soon, we were instinctively flirting. It was fun. When you’re two girls who 17 aren’t sure whether the others’ sexual orientation, neither of you wants to be the one to ask and potentially ruin it. I know you know that feeling! Ketty and I always laugh about who made the first move because we both kind of did. Once we began feeling like friends, she casually asked me to go for movie night at her house. We chatted the night away, getting to know each other: families, work, and immediately we bonded over our mutual love for travel. Later, I worked up the nerve to invite her to my upcoming birthday party and told her she could bring her boyfriend or a girlfriend. Honestly, I just wanted to figure out if she was into girls. Do not judge me! By the end of the night, while we had one too many shots, we confessed our mutual affections for each other. I felt giddy. We exchanged a kiss; it was a quick one. There were too many prying eyes for us to make out. But wah! I bet I can still feel her lips on mine when I close my eyes. 18 Lavine By Caroline Omolo I am Lavine. My name is my legacy, I love it despite the cultural norm of shortening one’s name. It’s just a personal preference, along with respecting my privacy and personal space. The small things that make me, me. I am also monogamous, but for some reason, people think other-wise. I met Sasha, a beautiful, electric smile, demure and lively personality. Sacha and I fell in love almost immediately and dated. At the beginning, everything was fantastic; the sex was euphoric, great connection, and we just loved each other’s company so much we moved in together. Things changed gradually; Sasha started coming home at odd hours of the night, seemed to only be interested in partying all the time. After two years, the romance and sex were out the window, we lived like roommates. One day Sasha left the house in the afternoon and dis-appeared for days. When she returned, I asked where she was and she rudely said it was none of my business. That night, Sacha slithered into bed saying she was horny, getting all touchy and emotional like nothing was wrong. I did not oblige. Sasha got upset and left the bedroom. The couch would be her resting place for the next few months. On most weekends, Sacha would have people over regardless of our current living situation. The worst part is, she insisted I share a bed with all these people. It was weird. One weekend Sasha invited Kelly over. Kelly is a sweetheart, down to earth, a beautiful woman sculpted by the gods. Her voice is perfectly mellow. I bet you would not stop listening. Clearly; I was smitten… Sasha, Kelly, and I had dinner that night. Sacha insisted Kelly and I share the bed. It was strange; I was troubled and curious about her intentions. Mind you, I have two grown daughters who live with us. Eventually, we obliged, unaware that this was the beginning of something new. 19 That night, Kelly and I became friends. We riddled the night, sharing and storytelling. I felt a semblance of myself revived. We became not only friends but also confidants. Kelly confided in me. Her emotional and psychological state was deteriorating, and I graciously linked her up with a therapist. Every Wednesday, after Kelly’s therapy sessions, we made a habit of having lunch together. It was the perfect time to catch up, and often we noticed similarities in life experiences. It wasn’t long before we developed feelings for each other. One Friday evening, while we were out on a dinner date, we talked about our feelings. It was beautiful, emotional, and special. Later that night, Kelly home, I did not question it much, instead I suggested I would accompany her home. I tell you I had butterflies. It was a good night. By good night, I mean we obliged the feelings we had for each other. I don’t quite recall how it started; I just remember the throes of passion. We kissed endlessly, made love, and sweetly cuddled. The next day, we almost instinctively asked each other to be exclusive. We both said yes with no hesitation, stayed indoors for an entire week, cementing the relationship. It was blissful. All our fears became a reality when Sasha came back months into the relationship. I was to be ordained as a pastor. On the day of ordination, Sasha showed up. She was up in arms and causing a scene. I would not let her. So, there and then, I announced my engagement to Kelly. Shock and murmurs rippled the room, Sasha burst out crying, with no one coming to her aid. No one expected this at all. I tend to be the shy, quiet type, but not today. It’s been two wonderful years so far. We continue to love, grow, pray and navigate through work and family, acknowledging our imperfections, shortcoming, and continue to enjoy each other’s company and romance. Love exists, you just have to find it in the right person. 20 LESIONS AND SCARS 21 Unlock My Shackles Interview By Susan Irungu SUSAN: Tell me about yourself? KHADIJA: My name is Khadija Mohamed*. I am 20 years old. My pro- nouns are they/them and I identify as non-binary. I was born in a town called Bula Burte and raised in Mogadishu, Somalia. I am an orphan who was left under the care of my aunt after both my parents died. I have never been to school… never received any basic education including madrassa classes (I am Muslim). SUSAN: How did your journey on identity and self-discovery begin? KHADIJA: When I was about 8 years of age, I started developing feelings towards boys, but I did not hang around or even play with them. In-stead, I chose to play with the girls. I found it more satisfactory. I would have so much fun doing the things they love doing like playing house and plaiting dolls. Because of this, people used to make fun of me and call me names. SUSAN: What kind of names? KHADIJA: (laughing) They used to call me ‘kanis’ which is a very derogative word used to refer to queer people. I did not have a close relationship with my aunt and her family, so I could not report or discuss such private and intimate matters. I also knew that my gender identity and sexual preference were and still are considered a taboo in our community and in our religion. KHADIJA: At 14 years, in 2013, I met a certain guy who expressed interest in me… I liked him too (drifts away). He kept company with the guys who bullied me, so I was skeptical about him since he would not come to my aid or ask them to stop but would just remain quiet. He was my first sexual experience, but it was nothing like what I had ever envisioned. This guy forced himself on me. I felt really bad but com- 22 promised just to remain his friend. Unfortunately, the feelings did not seem mutual. SUSAN: He raped you? KHADIJA: Yes, Abdul* raped me. Then he started pimping me out to his friends. I used to have sex with them just for the sake of it. SUSAN: What do you mean by that? KHADIJA: At first it was a prerequisite to remain friends with him. I figured that if I did not, Abdul would start bullying me like his friends do. Or he would stop loving me… I do not know if I should even call that love... It was enough for me that he was still in my life despite every-thing. SUSAN: I understand. And for how long did that last? KHADIJA: It did not last for that long. One day, Abdul* pimped me out to some guy called Amran* then set us up to my aunt. He called my aunt and two cousins to come and witness. Amrans’* mother also showed up. He was taken home and given a thorough beating. I was also taken home and beaten to a pulp by my aunt and especially by my eldest cousin. He went to the extent of tying me up and throwing me into a nearby lake with the intention of drowning me. SUSAN: What happened at the lake? KHADIJA: (Silently sobbing) Luckily, a villager who had witnessed it all rescued me when my cousin left. He took me to his house and took care of me. The next day, this stranger took me home and tried to make peace between me, my aunt and cousins, but they would have none of it. They wanted nothing to do with me. (pause) Since I had nowhere else to go, I moved back in. My cousin kept beating me up and abusing me. They started overworking me; I did all the cooking, cleaning and any other house chores. If I was ever late in serving meals, I 23 was punished, severely. One day when my cousin was beating me up, I decided enough is enough and ran away with nothing on me except the clothes I was wearing. I moved in with a family who took pity on me and lived with them for like a week. SUSAN: How well did you know this family? KHADIJA: I did not. I blindly approached them and shared my story. However, I was careful not to mention anything related to my gender identity or sexuality. While I was staying with them, I shared my story with anyone who would listen, and raised 50USD. After one week, I left the home following a connection with one contributor and traveled by road to Mogadishu. On my way to Mogadishu, my aunt, who had been keeping tabs on me through this host, contacted some men in the Al Shabab and notified them of my travel. SUSAN: What happened next? KHADIJA: These men barricaded the road. I learned much later that they were stopping all cars and buses looking for me. When they stopped our bus, they dragged me out. They identified me as a homosexual and started beating on me. The women in the bus really pleaded with them to leave me alone, but they were relentless. (Pause) The trauma from all that beating still lingers on my mind, and it really pains me to date. Finally, after several pleas from the women, they left me alone. The woman I was connected to found me in terrible shape when she picked me up. SUSAN: How was it being in a new town and new home? KHADIJA: I was scared because I did not know what the days ahead had in store for me. But in all honesty, it was better than being at my aunt’s. I stayed with the lady for 3 years. I literally slaved for her; cooking, serving, taking care of the kids and cleaning. In this home, the abuse was from the lady of the house and her boys who used to bully and threaten me. One time we were having a really heated argument with the boys and the lady of the 24 house kicked me out at 2am saying I was disrespecting her by arguing with her children. SUSAN: What happened then? KHADIJA: After being kicked out, I moved in with another family hoping for better days. Somehow, information reached the family that I am queer. The lady of that house was nice, and cooking and cleaning was my way of giving back to them for giving me a roof over my head. However, one night she sent me to the shop to buy milk and 4 guys jumped me. I was badly hurt; the lady took me to hospital where I was admitted for 2 days. Her husband had an obviously poor attitude towards me, but the lady was understanding. During the hospitalization, a lady friend who had a shop bought me a phone. I immediately joined social media. SUSAN: Why social media? KHADIJA: Susan, I was literally on my own on these streets. By that time, I had a bit of knowledge of social media. I knew that if I used it well, I would get connected to the right people and get the help I so desperately needed. In 2020, I met a lady online. I befriended her and slowly warmed my way. One day, I got the chance to share my story with her. Luckily, she was very understanding and non-judgmental. She suggested I use her Facebook platform to seek the help that I needed. We planned for a day where I would be a guest on her live video and shared my story. I stated my case… the abuse from the families I lived with, the Al Shabab being used to track me and the abuse from my male cousins and locals who were always bullying me. During and after the live video, a few people came forward and pledged to assist me. We raised 300USD. Using that money, I immediately applied for a passport. On the side, one well-wisher reached out to me directly. Her name is Halima*. She talked to the lady I lived with at the time and asked her to take care of me. Just when I thought things were falling in place, I began 25 receiving several unknown calls and finally a threatening message from a well-known Al Shabab guy. I changed my telephone number and shared this information with Halima. She then connected me to her friend in Somalia who sneaked me out in the middle of the night to another home. In that house, they knew about my sexuality. The man of the house was okay with me, but the woman of the house was not. She kicked me out after 7 days when the husband was away. SUSAN: What happened after you were kicked out from that home? KHADIJA: I had made a friend at the market. She allowed me to live with her till I figured the way forward. Out of desperation, I reached out to Halima. She sent me 300USD the next day. I made travel arrangements from Mogadishu to Nairobi. I was on the road for 12 days. That was the furthest I had ever been from home and the longest journey I have ever taken to date. It was hectic and extremely exhausting. I felt as if bad luck kept following me because I got arrested at Dadaab. However, I managed to bribe the policemen with Kshs.7,000 and they also took the small phone I was using. I hopped on the first bus to Nairobi, Kenya. SUSAN: You made it! KHADIJA: (laughing) Yes! I met a friend I had made via social media. He was waiting for me at Eastleigh. I had shared with him my travel itinerary. I spent the night at Moha’s place and the next day, a lady by the name Aisha* picked me from Moha’s place. Halima had graciously linked me up with Aisha*. This was in September 2020. SUSAN: 2020… This was during COVID19 travel restrictions… How were you able to cross borders? KHADIJA: Yes. We were able to cross with exaggerated transport charges and a few bribes here and there. It was crazy but it worked. SUSAN: How did it feel like finally leaving Somalia and getting into Kenya? 26 KHADIJA: I was looking raggedy, thin, exhausted, but deep inside I was feeling some sense of freedom. Relief. It has now been 6 months. I have been working on getting my papers to allow free movement and at least secure a casual job. I am currently living with Aisha* who is the most awesome host I have ever had. Alhamdulillah! [Thank God] SUSAN: What about your family? KHADIJA: Because of the threats from Al Shabab, I had to delete my initial Facebook account because they were still trying to trace me. My cousin had threatened me via Facebook messenger. He said they would trace, find and kill me. I tried reaching out to my aunt once, but she was clear about disowning me. SUSAN: How did that make you feel? KHADIJA: I cried that day. She said that I am an embarrassment to the family and that I should never contact her or her family ever again. Since settling in Kenya, I have not been in touch with anyone from my past. SILVER LINING: All those experiences really crushed me. Sometimes I do not foresee any changes beyond the life I am currently living. However, I am happy to have met many good people from my online interactions. I have made friends who sometimes come through for me financially supporting my upkeep, since I do not have any form of employment. I enjoy the inter-actions and sharing of stories with them because they keep me sane. I am currently dating someone I met online. I am happy, the relationship has taught me so much. It feels divine to be loved and to feel the love. I spent so much time thinking there was something wrong with me. I look forward to the day my past will not haunt me so much. CONCLUSION: 27 As much that there are struggles here and there, I am grateful to have a roof over my head, regular hot meals, running water, no forced labor, some sense of freedom and above all, freedom of expression. I am not sure about tomorrow, but I remain hopeful. 28 Finding light By Loise Kimeu I asked about her whereabouts, and before I knew it, I was on the floor. She pulls my hair, slaps my face, and kicks me to the floor. It felt like the kicking never stopped. I tried to protect my face. Crying, begging her to stop hurting me. I loved her. “I will kill you, and you won’t take me ANYWHERE!” she threatens angrily. Memories stick like glue on a shoe, Her face and name make me tremble in fear, like a leaf on a tree Tears flowing over like a river. I do not know what changed, she must have seen the agony she caused me. It was like a switch went off in her brain. She squatted down in haste and pulled me into her arms. “I’m so sorry babe. Aki, I am so sorry I hurt you. It will never happen again. You know I love you so much.” Standing and staring at a wall like a portrait asking questions that I have no answers. Lord, I am crying and calling my mama. Where did I go wrong in this life?? Her embrace feels rather comforting; like I needed it. She promises me heaven on earth. I tell her I forgive her, though every embrace sends pain throughout my body. I do not wince or say a word, since I did not want to trigger her into another fight. I convince myself it is okay for now, though I know it will happen again in due time. Leave, Loise leave!! 29 Those are the voices in my mind. Thinking she will follow me. Fear knocks me back, and I stand still. 30 Bittersweet By Perpetual I discovered my queerness in high school; I was attracted to some girls from my school. It was a riveting experience. During the holiday, my mother sent me to stay with my aunt, who had 3 boys and a girl. Beknown to myself, I started hitting on my cousin; I mean, the excitement of this newfound attraction had me carried away. She told her brothers who then came at me furiously trying to inquire about my sexuality; I denied it all. The next day in school, they hooked me up with a certain boy I did not fancy. I pretended to carry on with the relationship to protect my secret from ever reaching my mother, or worse. Soon “my boyfriend” began expecting sex from me. At first, I gave the impression that it would happen one day, but then he became adamant and pushy, so I said NO. He brought up the topic long enough and finally gave up and told my cousins. Suddenly, everything changed. My cousins grew a short fuse with me. They would get upset over nothing and physically assault me, and it became more regular by the day. One day, my mother came over to my aunt’s house to visit. She found me crying, and I begged her to take me back with her. She did not oblige, instead she asked me to be patient, to vumilia because by working for my aunt I was helping her feed the rest of our family. A month or so later, I came out to my cousins. I told them of my attraction to women. I guess I thought they would stop trying to hook me up with boys. But all hell broke loose. My cousins set me up to be raped “to turn me straight and make me stop this horrible behavior.” The entire ordeal left me very traumatized. Thankfully, I did not contract any infections or get pregnant, but I grew so much animosity towards my cousins and the male gender entirely. I also struggled to love myself, my body, and my sexuality. 31 The next time my mother visited, I begged and pleaded to go back home. She did not hesitate when she saw all the visible scars on my body. I did not tell her what had transpired. I could not relive that moment ever again. My mom enrolled me back to school to complete my O-level. I started hustling soon after to support my mother and the family. In my endeavors, I got an opportunity to join a training program in an organization that supports women sexual assault survivors with empowerment initiatives and self-defense classes. It was here that I realized all my pain was weighing me down. I took it out on the punching bags and began to heal together with the other women. I am now a 33yr old gender non-conforming full-time trainer on self- defense. I support young girls in schools to deal with their own sexual assault as well as protect them-selves. This has been a fulfilling process; I keep my head up and take my blessings when and where they come. 32 Unusual Encounters By Caroline Omolo My phone number is easily accessible to Nairobi queer community because I am part of a LGBTI security response team. I got a call from Pam* who seemed desperate to find and join safe queer spaces..., we agreed to meet up in town. I got there early and called her to know her whereabouts. She said she was in Sabina Joy; the spot is well known as a Sexworker hot spot, but I dispelled any doubt on intention and went. Upon arrival, Pam* invited me to sit beside her and asked me to hug her. I found it strange and politely declined citing that I was only there to provide my assistance as we had previously discussed. However, she became insistent, and I obliged. She then demanded for a kiss on the cheek to which I said no my agitation showing on my face. Eventually, she ordered a drink, we began talking about Minority Womyn in Action. She seemed quite interested to join the WhatsApp group and engage with us. I promised to add her. The conversation quickly shifted to her telling me she was horny and had booked a room at Sabina Joy for a quickie. It seemed like she was rubbing herself!! Leo ni Leo Caroline umepatikana! She then proceeded to forcefully touch me saying she was ready for me to give her head. I quickly made an exit! I went to Kencom as I had made prior arrangements with Jane* to go watch a rugby game at the Impala club on Ngong road. As soon as Jane* arrived, I noticed Pam* had followed me. I told Jane* the story, and we ignored her presence, so she would go away. When Jane and I boarded the bus, Pam followed us, taking a sit at the back. The conductor went down the aisle asking for fare. When it was her turn to pay, she shouted “Yule dame yangu pale mbele analipa” pointing directly at me. I had to pay to avoid any drama. 33 “Did you have sex with her at Sabina Joy?” Jane asked me curiously. “Hell No!” I respond, totally perplexed by the question. When we alighted at the impala club, Pam also alighted. Luckily, she could not access the event grounds, as tickets were pre-booked. As we moved towards the events gate, she shouted “I will wait here for you… you must finish what you started!” I struggled to interpret this ordeal as sexual harassment because consent discourse mostly frames sexual harassment perpetrators as men (or masculine) and victims of coercive abuse as women (or feminine). We need to revisit this with more nuance to have a society that values consent, recenters marginalized communities and prioritizes bodily safety in pleasure. 34 IDENTITY AND BELONGING 35
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