Seeking Sanctuary , livre ebook

SEEKING SANCTUARY
SEEKING SANCTUARY
Stories of Sexuality, Faith and Migration
Written and compiled by
JOHN MARNELL
Published in South Africa by:
Wits University Press
1 Jan Smuts Avenue
Johannesburg 2001
www.witspress.co.za
Copyright John Marnell 2021
Foreword Kapya Kaoma 2021
Published edition Wits University Press 2021
Illustrations Sophie Kollo
First published 2021
http://dx.doi.org.10.18772/22021097106
978-1-77614-710-6 (Paperback)
978-1-77614-711-3 (Hardback)
978-1-77614-712-0 (Web PDF)
978-1-77614-713-7 (EPUB)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher, except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act, Act 98 of 1978.
This book was published with the support of The Other Foundation, the Sigrid Rausing Trust, the GALA Queer Archive and the African Centre for Migration and Society.

Project manager: Simon Chislett
Copyeditor: Efemia Chela
Proofreader: lisa Compton
Indexer: Sanet le Roux
Cover design: Hybrid Creative
Typeset in 10.5 point Sabon
Contents
Foreword by Rev. Canon Dr Kapya Kaoma
INTRODUCTION Reframing sexuality, faith and migration
CHAPTER 1 Background and methodology: On making and sharing stories
CHAPTER 2 The politicisation of faith: Religious responses to sexual and gender diversity
CHAPTER 3 A life on hold: LGBT migration and the (false) promise of freedom
CHAPTER 4 Preaching love: A history of the LGBT Ministry
CHAPTER 5 The stories
1. We must preach love, not hate
Narrated by Dumisani (Zimbabwe)
2. We deserve freedom
Narrated by Mr D (Cameroon)
3. Only love can bring unity
Narrated by D.C. (Zimbabwe)
4. Still searching for safety
Narrated by Eeyban (Ethiopia)
5. A caged animal set free
Narrated by Thomars (Zimbabwe)
6. Sexuality is a beautiful gift from God
Narrated by Dancio (Zambia)
7. This is where God wants me to be
Narrated by Mike (Zimbabwe)
8. God knows the depth of my faith
Narrated by Zee (South Africa)
9. I can serve God, no matter who I love
Narrated by Sly (Nigeria)
10. Don t let the hate get you down
Narrated by Tino (Zimbabwe)
11. I am not willing to live a lie
Narrated by Angel (Uganda)
12. Love is about hearts, not parts
Narrated by Toya (Zimbabwe)
13. Stop calling us sinners
Narrated by Nkady (Lesotho)
14. I pray for strength and guidance
Narrated by Tinashe (Zimbabwe)
CHAPTER 6 Looking ahead: The case for affirming religious spaces
Glossary
Notes
Bibliography
Acknowledgements
Index
Foreword
A frica, my mamaland, for how long will you ignore the cries of your ownchildren? I am proud to be African; my heart will always belong to my mamaland. Belonging is an important aspect of ubuntu, a Bantu concept that refers to authentic humanity, realised through the recognition of shared bonds: I am because we are . For Vusi Mahlasela – known to most as ‘The Voice’ – the way our bodies ‘say Africa’ is an important aspect of what constitutes our Africanness. To paraphrase the great singer, we might walk the streets of Europe and America, but the dust on our boots and the rhythm of our feet will always ‘say Africa’. Yet, sadly, Africa is not a sanctuary for all her children. The continent remains one of the most insulted, manipulated and interfered with places on the globe. Amidst the scourges of homo/transphobia and xenophobia, the insults of colonialism, neocolonialism and racism continue to rob Africa of its ancestral value of ubuntu.
Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart , Nelson Mandela's Long Walk to Freedom and many other influential texts point to what Wangari Maathai calls ‘the challenge for Africa’. We certainly have much work to do if we are to realise what Desmond Tutu terms ‘God's dream’ for our beloved continent. This challenge is as urgent today as it was during the colonial, military and dictatorial governments that exploited, enslaved and killed our peoples. We continue to witness untold abuses of human rights in the name of politics and religion. And while state-sanctioned violence is condemned by many Africans, the relentless persecution of sexual and gender minorities – often referred to as the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and intersex (LGBTQI) community – attracts little opposition on the continent. In many cases, this persecution happens at the bidding of religious leaders, both Christian and Muslim.
Are LGBTQI persons not children of mama Africa? Are they not made in the sacred image of God? These are the questions that John Marnell's Seeking Sanctuary: Stories of Sexuality, Faith and Migration strives to answer. For many, African sexual and gender minorities simply do not exist; those who claim to be LGBTQI are the creation of evil forces of the West. This false narrative justifies the arrest, imprisonment and even killing of those perceived to violate socio-cultural norms. In many cases, it leads to the exile of LGBTQI persons – the unifying theme in Marnell's critical work. Rather than presenting logical abstract arguments, Marnell employs stories of how African sexual and gender minorities negotiate the identities, desires and hopes, both within their nations and in exile. It is important that Africa hears these living stories. We must all learn from those whose right to belong is being denied in the name of culture and religion.
Over the years, I have seen and heard how Africans defend or justify their mistreatment of sexual and gender minorities. One narrative emerges strongest of all: being LGBTQI is a ‘lifestyle’ imported onto African soil. But there are countless studies and stories, including those in this book, that disprove this popular misconception. The anthropologist Edward Evans-Pritchard records same-sex marriages among the Zande people of Central Africa and the Sudan, 1 while mission scholars Edwin Smith and Andrew Murray Dale document sexual and gender diversity among the Ila people of modern-day Zambia. 2 More recently, Marc Epprecht offers significant evidence of same-sex relations across Southern Africa, 3 and evangelical scholar Samuel Waje Kunhiyop testifies to sexual minorities ( yan daudu ) dancing openly in Nigeria as late as the 1970s. 4 Regrettably, the space for openness and acceptance is rapidly shrinking, as religious fundamentalists take hold in many parts of the continent.
The embrace of US-influenced Christianity and Roman Catholicism has intensified the denial of sexual and gender diversity in my mamaland. Even respected African Catholic bishops are quick to deny the truth to which their own catechism confesses: sexual diversity has existed for ‘centuries and in different cultures’ and the number of LGBTQI persons in the world ‘is not negligible’. 5 Many local evangelical and Roman Catholic anti-LGBTQI movements take the easy route, spouting familiar US rhetoric as if it were irrefutable truth, despite science proving otherwise. In spite of US fundamentalist and Vatican claims, we are all sexual and gendered beings, and we each have the right to express our sexuality and gender openly without discrimination. Attempts to deny this diversity do not erase the lived experiences of LGBTQI Africans.
Seeking Sanctuary explores the intersection of sexual and gender identities with citizenship, religion, politics and human rights. To exist as an LGBTQI person in Africa is sacrifice one's rights citizenship, religion and belonging. The life stories of LGBTQI persons rarely make headlines on the continent, unless discussed in reference to arrest, rape and death, or linked to salacious gossip or sensationalised claims. As for those who want to defend the human rights of sexual and gender minorities, they are presented as enemies of African culture, destroyers of family values, or blasphemers distorting the teachings of Christianity and Islam.
‘Stop copying foreign things!’ is the accusation most commonly hurled at LGBTQI persons. As a rhetorical manoeuvre, this charge has two objectives: to deny the Africanness of those on the receiving end and to foreclose any discussion of human rights. A second accusation closely follows: ‘If you want to be homosexual, then you must go to those places that allow for such things – South Africa, Europe or America!’ However, as growing xenophobia on the continent attests, migration is far from easy. The stories in this book show that LGBTQI persons who move in search of safety come up against at least two phobias: as foreigners, they face insults, violence and discrimination; as sexual and gender minorities, they endure isolation from their fellow immigrants and local communities.
The marginalisation of sexual and gender minorities means they are not counted as citizens or religious adherents. Whereas LGBTQI persons remain invisible to states and faith communities, Marnell's work presents their lives through what I term the ‘politics of being’. This refers to oppressed people's ability to contest dominant narratives through the telling of their own stories. In recounting their lives and experiences, LGBTQI persons reclaim their identities as Africans, both in their own nations and in exile. To tell one's story is to demand the right to belong. Just as Yvonne Chaka Chaka (aka the Princess of Africa) sang of her right to exist in her homeland during the struggle against apartheid, so too do LGBTQI persons refuse to be erased from their cultures and histories: ‘My mamaland, who is that man calling me stranger … Who is that man telling me to go from my land … This is my heart, where I belong.’ By refusing to stay silent, the storytellers in this book are staking a moral claim to belonging – not just as Africans, but also as proud LGBTQI persons.
In Cry of the Oppressed: History and Hope of the Human Rights Revolution , Robert Drinan speaks to the transcendence o