October 2009

Although I didn't have internet (which I have at my house now, halleluia!), I started keeping a little journal when I first brought Frankie home. That happened the first four or five days but has petered out some but I thought I'd post them anyways.

The article in the Monitor was an eye opener in more ways than one.
Not only did it show that there are no crimes on the ground. There is actually no problem of homosexuality according to the Uganda Police reports. Why, because there is no one to complain. And, why should one complain if you have sex consensually?
But, the pushers of the Bahati Bill are determined to have a crime. Of something that me and my lover do in the privacy of our house, of our bedroom.
And, it also opened my eyes. More than usual.
I know, I have flirted with the fact that I am gay in Uganda. Kind of amusing that we are soon celebrating nine years of partnership. Me and my partner. Of being gay, and loving, and being together. Of having our own family. It is exhilarating, living like so, so much against the ‘law’. In sort of secret sin. A gay underground.
But, that fact makes us forget the danger.

Yesterday I rode Bethany's coat tails, so to speak, to a village visit.  I actually rode Luke's bike, and she took Pat's, a few miles down a dirt road, talking and greeting as we bumped along in the spitting rain.  Bethany spent several years here as a teacher, and has made regular return visits to work with interns or serve our team, so she is well known (though she did get called Becca once along the way, who taught with Bethany LONG ago).  We pushed up hills and avoided goats, gave a wide berth to a teetering inebriated man, laughed at the message on some houses and schools that encouraged "No sweet without sweat" and "No pain no gain".  Right.  Deep breath and keep pumping.  At last we reached the "pottery house", a homestead of five women who had all been married to one old muslim man who died in August.  Mud homes, a well-swept courtyard, two smoldering fires under a tiny poled root-only kitchen, pots-in-the-making lined up under the eaves.

The “THIS IS IT” rehearsal video is amazing!An adventure, showing people excerpts of Mj's life that we had never seen before. The large crowd that walked into Cineplex seemed anxious, like they were going to watch a live concert. The silence was deafening, no phone’s going off as they usually do, and everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen. Michael’s passion is such an inspiration. The manner with which he swerved his body and wiggled his toes seemed like music was literally flowing through his veins. His rehearsals were like the actual presentation, he poured out his life. He was very articulate as to how every note should sound, when he wanted a loud bang and when he wanted the music to simmer. As though he’d seen the concert before. It was great to see Jackson unveiled, a side to him that had always been shielded. To listen to him talk, rebuke and guide his crew in a cool manner. The words “I love you” and “God bless you” flowed steadily from his lips.

Got there at nine skipped out of the taxi and climbed the steep curb turn leading up to Mateos, I wore that facial expression that people usually put on when expecting to meet a distant relative or a long lost friend, you know the one that’s half way between a forced smile and feigned surprise.
Well that expression turned into utter bewilderment when my eyes scanned the entire  pavement seating area and finding no one closely resembling a blogger, several thoughts raced through my mind one of which was that I had  been away too long that the entire blogging fraternity had metamorphosed into a different species all together with altered DNA.

Just hit me like a nuclear blast.

I am fighting for my life. Literally.
Yeah, take off the 'parsing', the nuancing, the sleight of hand and words. I as a gay Ugandan, am fighting for my life.
Melodramatic? But, if I dont recognise that fact, I am going to be constrained.

Sometimes, I have been accused of 'whining'. Of over exaggerating the danger to me as a gay Ugandan. Of playing the 'victim' card. Of course I do.
But, it is important for me to understand that the reality is much darker than that.

As I sit here, writing, a bill is being debated in parliament, whether me as a gay Ugandan should be quickly put to death, or I should stay in prison for life. They first have to prove that I am gay. Or, at least, someone has to accuse me. Then, once I am accused, the state apparatus will go into play. The burden of 'non-proof' will be with me. And, I will be in prison as I try to work my way through the corrupt courts.

The chances of that bill passing are very, very high.

“no matter how hard you work achieving your goal, there’s no doubt someone out there working twice as hard to make sure you fail..”
Andre Rommel Young                                                                                                             aka ”Dr.Dre”                                                                                                                                                                                                                          CEO Aftermath Entertainment
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