We agree to call him Robert. We can’t use his real name because there is a risk of reprisals, even against people associated with him, is too high. Robert is at risk not only because of his sexuality but because he is daring to speak out. He’s a survivor of a violent assault which he believes may have been motivated by homophobia, and he also knows that just supporting equal rights, even if he abstains from all sexual activity, could see him sent to prison for a long time.
Growing up afraid in Uganda
Why does this happen? It’s partly religious and partly cultural, he says. He grew up on the Ssese Islands on Lake Nyanza (aka Lake Victoria), a place once believed to be the home of the gods because it’s so beautiful – but ever since he was at high school and realised that he was different, he has been afraid. Fortunately, he didn’t internalise it as many people do. He knew that he wasn’t a bad person, regardless of what he was told in church and at his church school. He was able to come out to his mother, who kept his secret, but the only other person he knew in his situation fled the country to become a refugee in neighbouring Kenya, leaving him still more isolated.
“I feel so bad,” he says of the passing of the Anti-homosexuality Act, which solidified cultural hostility in law. Even before then, he points out, LGBTQ+ people were in hiding, their situation complicated by attempts at entrapment. “Some people pretend to be LGBTQ+ people and they are spy to the government.” It’s a familiar story – the same thing used to happen in the UK.
The danger of homophobic violence
The situation became intolerable for Robert in 2021, when he was attacked and left unconscious and bleeding, with a long gash across his right temple as well as numerous bruises. “I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I wake up when was in medical centre.” He was afraid that the same people might come back to finish the job, and not knowing who was responsible, he had no means of protecting himself. Homophobic attacks in the area are not uncommon, he explains. A few days before our conversation, an LGBTQ+ human rights defender was assaulted nearby.
“They are so many people,” he says when I ask if he personally knows people who express homophobic sentiments. “It’s not allowed in our culture.” But he is hopeful that that could change if the aggressors came to understand that sexual orientation is something people are born with. In Uganda, it tends to be seen as a choice, and one which is conflated with all sorts of dangerous and unpleasant behaviours. Now that the government has outlawed all forms of LGBTQ+ rights work, it’s very hard to combat that myth.
Robert’s story, at least, had something of a happy ending. Shortly after our conversation, and after a long time spent saving up money, he was able to flee to Canada, where he has now become a refugee. It’s a huge thing to have to get on a plane and say goodbye to everything you’ve ever known. He misses the weather. He’s looking forward to being able to join LGBTQ+ groups, make friends and live his life openly, however. He also sees it as his mission to help other LGBTQ+ people back in Uganda. What can other people around the world do to help? “Just to accept us as we are,” he says.

The Anti-homosexuality Act
On 3 April, the Constitutional Court of Uganda decided that, although it considered aspects of the Anti-homosexuality Act to be “inconsistent with the right to health, privacy and freedom of religion,” it would not block or suspend it. It did not respond to assertions that the law contravenes the country’s international treaty commitments, such as its ratification of the UN Convention Against Torture. Supporters of the Act have appealed to nationalist sentiment and argued that homosexuality is a concept imported by corrupt foreigners – in disregard of the prevailing view among historians that Ugandans were accepting of sexual and gender diversity in the past and that homophobia was imported during the colonial period.
One positive thing to come out of the appeal to the Constitutional Court was the striking down of the legal requirement to report people suspected of being gay, bisexual or queer to the police, which could, among other things, have criminalised parents trying to protect their children. People convicted of homosexuality can still receive prison sentences of up to 20 years, and the death penalty can be applied in cases of ‘aggravated homosexuality’, such as consensual sexual activity with an adult who happens to be disabled. One person has already been convicted of this.
Robert is happy in Canada, he says, “because here they allow everyone to express themselves.” Human rights campaigners are asking governments and businesses around the world to call on Uganda to change its approach so that one day people there can enjoy the same simple freedoms, no matter who they love.
Read more from Jennie Kermode here.








