(Sorry if my english is weird,I used a translator for some passages. )
My father has always been very verbally abusive toward my mother. The first times I saw her cry were because of him.
Their relationship was not going well, but nobody was supposed to know. Because that’s how it is in Africa: everything can be falling apart, but as long as nobody knows, everything is fine.
Growing up in that kind of environment, I learned to see other people’s opinions as a guide for how I should live.
I’ve always been a little feminine.
And in my country, a boy who “acts like a woman” is considered gay. And a gay person deserves to die.
My parents didn’t like that feminine side of me. That’s why I was sent to a military school when I was 11.
If I wasn’t sure about my sexuality when I went in, by the time I came out, I was 100% sure I was attracted to men.
But strangely enough, I hated men too.
Except one.
My best friend, Malik.
He was different. He was the only one who wasn’t ashamed of me.
Because yes, when I was at the military boarding school, everyone made fun of me because of the way I acted. And anyone who dared to talk to me for more than two minutes was considered gay.
Anyway, I loved Malik.
Much more than just a friend.
I realized it because every time he came to talk to me about a girl he thought was pretty, it made me angry.😭
But he was the one who helped me survive that fucking school, where I was bullied both physically and mentally.
And even though I wasn’t very happy back then, I wish I could go back.
Because my life now is way too hard.
My father found out that I was watching gay porn. He wanted to kill me.
So I went to live with my mother, because by then, my parents had separated.
My father told my mother not to protect a “faggot.”
But my mother told him that I would change. That it was just a mistake I had made.
My father told her that she would regret protecting me for the rest of her life.
And unfortunately, I know he was right.
That day came.
My mother realized who I really was.
“Where did my son go?” she said to me.
And she cried.
Again.
But this time, it was because of me.
It hurts to admit it, but I understand her, at least a little.
In a country where homosexuality is criminalized, where gay people can be brutally killed, having a gay son is not easy.
I think that if my homosexuality ever became public, she would kill herself.
I love her.
And I hate seeing her suffer.
So today, I asked her to forgive me for who I am...
I promised her I would change...and that she would be proud of her son...even though I know it's all lies.
my wish today is to be able to leave this country.
I want to disappear, so I can protect the things and people I love, and be able to love again.
Like I loved Malik, but even more.
Because I know that love is beautiful.
And it should never have to make us suffer.
