The advent of South Africa’s democratic transition in the early 1990s saw the rise of the championing of inclusive LGBTQ++ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans, Queer) rights, led by fierce social justice activists such as Beverley Palesa Ditsie and the late TsekoSimon Nkoli . Furthermore, it has been 12 years since the legalization of gay marriages in South Africa, under the Civil Union Act. This act alongside various LGBTQ++ rights which are supported by the constitution, supposedly intend to uplift South Africa’s greatly disenfranchised queer community. Yet, black queers in South Africa continue to be gravely erased, violated, silenced and displaced.
Moreover, on the spectrum of power and privilege it can be asserted that black members of the LGBTQ++ community are arguably one of the most marginalized demographics on the African continent, especially in relation to exercising their legal rights. For instance, homophobia in many African states are protected by anti-gay laws and in very extreme cases, states such as Mauritania, Sudan and northern Nigeria pursue the death penalty for ‘homosexuals’. Oppressive anti-gay laws across Africa continue to restrict the upward mobility, freedom as well as agency of black queers. In 2013, the Ugandan government passed the infamous Anti-Homosexuality Bill in which anyone found guilty of engaging in any gay relations would possibly be sentenced to prison for life and punished for ‘encouraging’ homosexuality. Similarly, being queer in Tanzania is illegal and authorities known as the anti-gay squad have been reported to seek out as well as arrest anyone who is suspected of being queer. It is with such realities that dehumanising homophobia on the African continent is pushing for the criminalisation of being gay (except for a very few countries such as Lesotho, Rwanda, Burkina Faso and Mozambique)–this is a reality that can never be accepted as the norm.
Black queer visibility as well as inclusivity in Africa is scarce and it is highly problematic that when black queer issues do surface into the mainstream world, they are simply pushed to the periphery. It can be contended that the continuous silencing and erasure of black queerness could lead to an African black queer revolution. However, it can also be asserted that to be black and queer is a revolution in of itself. Over the past decade increasing acts of resistance by the black LGBTQ++ community towards oppressive queer phobic violence and racism has been observed. For instance, protests emerged at Cape Town’s 2017 Gay Pride for its structural exclusion of black and brown people form the event and its lack of radical transformation. Elsewhere, at the Soweto Pride in 2012, people protested gender-based violence towards black lesbians in which they held a ‘Dying for Justice’ banner and stood in solidarity with women who speak out.
It is imperative for black queer visibility to transcend into the fields which will empower this community such as law, media, healthcare and education; because representation matters, and our livelihoods depend on it. Moreover, seeing as the safety of the black queer community is highly vulnerable, increasing the community’s visibility could be helpful in the way in which black queers navigate space (feeding into the notion that, ‘there is power in numbers and there is power in unity’). Black queer folks are literally fighting for their voices and recognition in all facets of their lives. In our fight for black queer inclusivity, it is vital to look towards ourselves as a community, recognize our positionality within the community, dismantle our internalised oppressions and avoid replicating toxic hetero normative behaviours towards one another. Ultimately, it is essential to strive for a world where we are black, queer and free.
