This
month’s 50/50 offertory will benefit the LGBT Asylum Task Force. This
agency helps LGBT asylum seekers who have fled their home countries because of
threats of violence and death based on their sexual orientation or sexual
identity. All donations will go to providing housing, food, and spending
money for asylum seekers in Worcester.
On Sunday,
we heard from an LGBT asylum seeker from Uganda. Because his friends and
family in Uganda could be at risk if his name appeared online, we are using his
alias, “John”.
My name is John. I am 29 years old. My mother died
shortly after my birth. My dad died when I was 12. I was raised by my
mother’s brothers and sisters. I came to realize I was gay at 17, but it
is illegal to be gay in Uganda, so I claimed that I was shy and studied all the
time. I was pressured to find a wife.
My uncle called me and asked me if I was gay. Boldly, I said “YES!”, in
hopes of having his support. Instead, my honesty only brought me two
unending scars, one on my head, and one on my forehead. It also cost me
the love of my uncle and a place to live. He did promise not to repeat my
truth, which was a favor, as families in Uganda who do not turn in their gay
children could go to prison for 14 years. He told me to go far away and
get help or I would be imprisoned.,
After years of struggling and hiding, I was no longer a
homeless teen, but a self-sufficient man. I got a good job and fulfilled my
dream of being a TV producer. All that time, I had witnessed LGBT community
members being harassed, killed, raped, and imprisoned. The lucky ones managed
to flee the country.
In 2014, I met an old friend of mine who was a music director and a member of
the gay community. We wanted to make a documentary film on the LGBT
struggle in Uganda. We did, even though creating mob scenes in
hiding took a lot of money and risks. We decided it would be safer to submit
the film to festivals around the world. We won two awards in America and I
came to accept the award in Baltimore Maryland. During that time, someone
told me about the LGBT Asylum Task Force in Worcester. I contacted Pastor
Judy and we stayed in touch by email. I returned to Uganda, determined to
take the message to my people.
Bravely, we decided to put our film in Ugandan theaters. My life
was never the same. The police came to my work place with video clips and
accused me of recruiting youth to be gay. I was fired. After that,
theaters would not buy our movie.
I was arrested and thrown into prison, starved and beaten. They tortured
me to give the names of my friends. I did not. They tortured
me to tell them where I got the funds to produce the movie.
The torture increased, so I pretended to be ill so that I
would not be killed. I fainted, begged for medicine, and they sent
me to a hospital for a checkup, wishing to keep me alive for more
information. That night, I escaped from the hospital.
I was so committed to bringing human rights to Uganda, that I agreed to help in
one last film shooting at a hospital in Kampala, Uganda. I
should have known! We were arrested and the torture
resumed. A man in prison traded my escape for my camera. It
broke my heart to give it away, but I wanted to live.
I planned to go to Kenya for
a while until the situation calmed down. Then, I heard that the co-producer who
was running to Kenya had been chased like an animal and beaten to
death. I faced my darkest night. This was my friend, with the same
dreams of freedom that I had.
I had to leave. My
visa to the United States had not expired, so I sold all that I had and booked
my flight. I got in contact with Pastor Judy. Sadly, she said, the Task
Force did not have the money to take me in. I tried
everywhere. No one answered. As I travelled the United States
looking for help, I spent my nights sleeping in train stations. Pastor
Judy kept emailing me to see if I was okay.
On Sunday, February the 7th of 2016, I got on a bus and
came to worship at Hadwen Park Church. I figured I would just live in a
homeless shelter and be close to the church and the Task Force. I had $50
left in my pocket. Pastor Judy sent an email to the church and two women
offered me a spare room and a mattress. I am still there, as the
Task Force has not raised the money to find me my own place.
Maybe you, in this church, can help to financially support me.
It costs the Task Force $7,000 a month to keep 12 asylum seekers housed and
fed. The Task Force only supports us during the time we are not allowed
to work, usually about 9 months. Then, we move on to self-sufficiency and
employment and another asylum seeker takes our place.
No matter what, since I found Worcester and the Task
Force and all of you, I know that I will survive. It is still my
desire to tell the story of Uganda’s abuse against LGBT people.
Thank you for listening and may God bless you as God has
blessed me.
“John”
