Up First from NPR - The Sunday Story: Fighting for Trans Rights in Uganda

Episode Date: July 28, 2024

This past spring, in the east African nation of Uganda, the country's highest court upheld The Anti-Homosexuality act. It calls for tough sentences-sometimes even the death penalty - for LGBTQ+ people. On this episode of The Sunday Story, the tale of a trans woman in Uganda who calls herself Rihanna Mukasa. Rihanna was one of the first to be brought to court under the Anti-Homosexuality Act. As she fought a convoluted legal battle, she was brutalized in prison for nine months. After her release, Rihanna found an unexpected ally in her deeply traditional and religious mother. Together, they've become outspoken critics of the government, risking their lives to stand up for LGBTQ+ rights in the country that considers them criminals.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

I'm Aisha Roscoe, and this is The Sunday Story. This past spring, in the East African nation of Uganda, the country's highest court upheld the Anti-Homosexuality Act, which criminalizes the identities and behaviors of LGBTQ plus people and calls for tough sentences, including, in some cases, the death penalty. Today, a story from Uganda about a trans woman who calls herself Riana Mukasa. Riana was beaten and jailed for being trans, but she survived and eventually found her voice with the help of an unexpected ally, her very traditional and religious mother.

The story comes from our friends at Radio Workshop, a podcast featuring the work of reporters across Africa. And just to note, this episode contains graphic descriptions of violence. Now I'll hand it over to Lesedi Mwakle, the host of Radio Workshop, to begin Rihanna's story. It was nine months. Nine long months living in brutal conditions in prison in Kampala, Uganda. Rihanna hadn't spoken to her mother during that time. They'd had no contact. So when Rihanna was released, she needed to see her mom. She missed her and went to her house.

So when I reached there, I found her. Oh, she was cooking supper. Then I hugged her. I cried. She also cried. She cried while beating me. You know, that kind of mother's punishments. Why did you make me?

Why did you even have to be with those people? Now you see where you're at. Now you have anything. When I look at you, she called for a thousand things. But that was okay. I would not stop holding her. And that was my happiest moment.

Having my family again. After all crying and we sat down, she first asked, are you gay? Now, to my listener out there, how would you respond a parent? Would you kindly tell the parent that, yes, I'm gay, or you keep it quiet? So it took me like a minute to decide what I should tell her. But I used that one minutely wisely. Rihanna took a minute to think about her answer because telling someone you're gay, even your own mother, is dangerous in Uganda.

Homosexuality is socially unacceptable there and being queer is against the law. It has been for over a century. But in 2023, Yowerim Saveni, the president of Uganda, signed the Anti-Homosexuality Act, the most punitive set of regulations yet in Uganda. Human Rights Watch called it one of the harshest in the world. The law calls for the death penalty in some instances, life imprisonment in other cases. Even those who advocate for LGBTQ rights or provide health services, including antiretroviral treatment for HIV, could be

sentenced to 20 years in prison. We are looking back a decade, to 2014, when Uganda passed an earlier version of the Anti-Homosexuality Act. It was somewhat less restrictive, but only somewhat. It still earned the nickname the Kill the Gays Bill. It was at that time, in 2014, that Riana was arrested. Today, activists see Riana's experience a decade ago as a warning and as a way to understand the evictions, discrimination and arrests that are currently sweeping through the LGBTQ community in Uganda. And Riana's story is still unfolding.

The way she answered her God-fearing mother's question changed the course of their lives in a way Riana would have never predicted. I'm Lissette Mokwatle. This is Radio Workshop. We're back with the Sunday Story. Today, we're sharing an episode from Radio Workshop. Our reporter for this story is Ruth Muganzi, a queer editor of Kuchu Times, an LGBTQ media platform in Uganda. Ruth organized to meet Rihanna in a secure location outside the capital city of Kampala. It wasn't perfectly quiet, but it was safe.

Here's Ruth and Rihanna. It's good to see you. It's been a while. Thank you for accepting to sit down with us today for us to hear the powerful story that is Rihanna. Uganda's Rihanna. Yeah. Number one

property. How does Rihanna become the powerful voice that many of us have come to know? The changing of Rihanna started from 2014. 2014 started well. Rihanna was no longer living at home. She shared an apartment with her good friend Kim and she was fully into the queer scene in Kampala. She was 19, proud and trans, a life her family knew nothing about. Then late in January, on a Sunday night, like every Sunday night, she was out with her friends at a hangout called Rambar, one of the few places in the city where she could be openly trans.

Two months prior, in December of 2013, the Ugandan parliament passed an anti-homosexuality bill. It was sitting on the desk of the president, waiting to be signed. That coming bill was around his mouth. People were expecting it, they might come, what, what, what. But that wasn't important. Because it's coming, it never stopped people from having fun. Rihanna remembers having a great night and leaving Rambar at 3 a.m.

She brought home a friend who needed a place to sleep. Rihanna says they passed out in their party clothes. And then just three hours later, at 6 a.m. Someone knocked on the door three times. Yeah, three times. Rihanna and her roommate Kim had no idea who was at the door, especially that early. Kim shouted, who's that one? It's me, the local council chairman.

Chairman? That made things even more confusing. So Kim yelled out, what are you doing here at this time? He said, you open, I tell you. By the time he opened the door, the guy pushed the door like this. And then said, he's even putting on a dress. He's putting on a dress. These are indeed homosexuals. Rihanna says it wasn't a dress.

Kim was wearing a bathrobe. Regardless, Kim is a gay man, and they both knew people in the township were homophobic. But they never expected anyone to come knocking at their door like this. What made matters worse, the chairman wasn't alone. Rihanna says he was there with a gang of police and a crowd of angry neighbors. The media was there too, with cameras. She says they were pulled out of the house.

The neighbors had sticks and stones at the ready. They wanted to beat us as if we were thieves. They were saying, we are not beating the guy who was born, but we are beating the demon inside you that turns you to be a woman. Kim escaped. So did their friend from the bar. But Rihanna felt unconscious. When she came to, she was at the police station. This was the first time she'd ever been arrested. Her family had no idea where she was. said, no, he can't offer his phone to a gay person.

No, no, no, no, no, no. The next day, Rihanna's roommate Kim was also arrested, and they were both transferred to a different police station and led to a cell. And reaching there, he shouted at the inmates inside, that those that are coming are gay. Give them a cell. And reaching there, he shouted at the inmates inside, that those that are coming are gay. Give them a lesson. That's what he said. When we entered inside,

we were beaten. We were beaten. Rihanna remembers an horrific scene where she was made to clean the toilet floor with her tongue. I begged. I remember myself begging. And then my friend came, said, no, let me do it. That is the type I normally don't talk about in my life

because it broke me in pieces every time I talk about it I feel bad time has passed but my wounds are still fresh. I might be happy,

but my wounds never go away. Remember, there were reporters in the crowd the morning Rihanna was pulled from her home. So while Rihanna was held in pre-trial detention, the story of her arrest hit the news. It was reported widely. Rihanna didn't know it at the time, but her family saw the reports. This is how they learned Rihanna was queer. Meanwhile, Rihanna and Kim's case was quickly taken up by the Human Rights Awareness and Promotion Forum, an NGO that provides legal support. But even though they had three lawyers assigned to the case, it didn't matter.

When it came time for Rihanna and Kim to hear the formal charges and make a plea before the magistrate's court, they were taken a day earlier than scheduled. Their lawyers didn't know. Alone, they faced the judge, and the charges were read. It's important to know, while they were in police custody, President Museveni signed into law the Anti-Homosexuality Act of 2014. But because Riana and Kim were arrested shortly before the act was passed, they were charged under a much older law, a section from Uganda's Penal Code Act from 1950. Over the years, people have been arrested under this law, but this was the first time anyone had officially

been brought to court to answer for the crime of carnal knowledge against the order of nature, a charge that could bring life imprisonment. Rihanna said she had no idea how to plead. My friend was telling me, you can't be guilty over something you have not done. He told me, when they read your charges, please don't say you're guilty. So they didn't. They both pleaded not guilty. And it's at this point that Riana's long legal process began. A tangle, really. We can't explain it all, but we think it's important to include a few of the details in order to paint a picture of the difficulties some LGBTQ people face in the Ugandan legal system, including what the judge did next. She ordered Riana detained for 14 days. That's illegal. By law, bail hearings should be held

within 48 hours. But according to Chapter 4, a government watchdog, often holding people longer is an accepted practice, especially in cases concerning a queer person. The order was just the first of many where the law was sidelined in Rihanna's case. Rihanna and Kim were delivered to Luziro Prison. Rihanna told us the head of the prison paraded them in front of other inmates. Everyone should come close. Everyone should come close. They said, now we have our new visitors here. And our new visitors, they are the top, the toppest homosexuals in Uganda.

Who hasn't seen the news? They are the top, the toppest homosexuals in Uganda. Who hasn't seen the news? The details of Rihanna's imprisonment are hard to stomach. It was much worse than her time in jail. Torture, abuse, no medical assistance. She says doctors refused to treat homosexuals. We're not the UN, they said. But even more painful, Riana never saw her family. She learned later that they didn't know where she was,

and when they did, they were afraid to visit her because of what they'd heard in the news. Any contact with her could result in arrest. That was the time I needed visitors more in my life. That was the time I needed visitors more in my life. That was the time I needed support, but none came. Eventually, Rihanna had a bail hearing. The lawyers convinced her family to post bail. It was the first time they'd seen each other since the arrest.

My father crying, my mother crying, all my sisters were crying, seeing me. And that really made me cry. Rihanna had been sick in prison for some time. She says for anyone who knew her, it was shocking to see her in that state. Rihanna's condition upset her mom, who was supposed to stand before the judge and guarantee bail. But Rihanna's mom fainted and had to be carried out the courtroom. I've never regretted being trans. That was the time I regretted it.

Rihanna's mom recovered outside. She sat with the lawyers and lamented her situation. She cursed Rihanna for putting her in such a difficult position. My child wants me to die, she said. Inside the courtroom, the case continued. Rihanna's dad stepped up to post bail, but he also needed to give the court support documents like a letter of residence from Rihanna's landlord,

as well as her passport. He had neither. This was the first time he'd heard of it. On top of that, the judge ruled the state hadn't provided enough evidence, but agreed to give them additional time to put more of a case together. So, bail denied. Rihanna returned to prison. When court wasn't in session,

Rihanna's lawyers went into an exhausting back and forth with the judge, negotiating for a simpler process. Weeks went by. Eventually, Rihanna's father was allowed to stand in court again. This time, bail was granted, a little over three months after Rihanna's arrest. But once again, the law was sidelined. Normally, once a person is granted bail, they're released until their court date. But not Riana.

She was taken back to prison and held there. Now, the back and forth between lawyers and the court grew from a tangle to a quagmire, while Riana remained imprisoned. The case drew a considerable amount of attention, international attention. Keep in mind, her case was the first of attention, international attention. Keep in mind, her case was the first of its kind in Uganda. Diplomats attended hearings.

LGBTQ activists pushed international funders to cut aid to the country because of the Anti-Homosexuality Act. The case had a substantial ripple effect. Finally, the court magistrate declared the prosecution lacked evidence. The case was dismissed. I was very excited. I couldn't believe it. Riana had been in prison for nine months. On the day of Riana's release, she says journalists from around the world swarmed her with questions.

But she kept moving, her head covered while she was escorted to a waiting car. A driver rushed her to a nice hotel. She showered, ate a good meal and slept. But this was a vulnerable moment for Rihanna. She was alone and there was no support transitioning from the prison system. Kim was still in prison. A week later, he would be released. Rihanna thought a lot about her family. She says she was afraid. She knew she needed to make amends with her mother. She had to, but how? In the days after her release, no one from the family contacted her.

And all Rihanna could think about was what the lawyers told her. We don't know whether she will be able to forgive you. Rihanna understood what that meant, especially given their history together. The woman she calls mom is actually her aunt. You see, Rihanna's birth mother died when Rihanna was 14. She says her dad was no help and was not safe to be around. So she left. She took her three siblings with her and they lived on the street scavenging food.

More than a year passed. As you can imagine, they weren't doing well. Rihanna's aunt found them living in a demolished house. She was like, what? She came in, she carried us, she took us home. Rihanna saw the effort her aunt made. She squeezed Rihanna and her siblings into her one-bedroom house where she already lived with her two daughters. She ran a fruit and vegetable stand. But to make ends meet and put Rihanna and her siblings back in school, she started selling maize on the streets.

That's when Rihanna began calling her aunt, Mom. She did her best because I have thousands and thousands of things to appreciate on her. She gave us an opportunity to be in her life. But now, out of prison, Rihanna worried their relationship was broken. Her mother was traditional and very religious. How would she ever understand Rihanna? But she knew if she wanted a relationship, the only way to mend it was to face her mom. She felt compelled to do so. I can't even lie to you. It's just that I just walked and said I'm going there. Never planned for even my walking. It's just because I had that unconditional love that I

could not even bear more. I told myself, Rihanna, you have to go. They are still your people. Rihanna walked to her mother's home and went in, terrified and unannounced. Her mother was eating, and when she saw Rihanna, she turned her back and said nothing. And then I told her, Mommy, I want to talk to you, please. I know, I know you're hurt. The only thing she responded was, give me time. Her mom could have said, go away, or she could have said nothing at all. But instead, her mom said, give me time.

Rihanna felt this was a gift, something to celebrate. She didn't want to force the situation, so she went home and waited, patiently. Sometimes, it takes a mile for them to accept you because sometimes they'll start distancing themselves from you because you become a curse to them. They even start regretting the fact that they raised you. One month went by, no word. Another month, nothing.

Christmas was just around the corner and Rihanna figured she'd cook a chicken and eat alone. Another month, nothing. Christmas was just around the corner, and Rihanna figured she'd cook a chicken and eat alone. But on the 23rd of December, the phone rang. I was like, is it true? Is this her number? I was afraid. Actually, when I picked it, I just kept quiet on the phone.

She shouted at me and said, I know you are hearing. You come home. I want you to have Christmas with you. I have things to talk to you like that. Rihanna's mom hung up. No goodbye. Rihanna couldn't wait two days. She went to her mother's the following day

and announced once again her mom was cooking in the kitchen. This time, instead of shunning Rihanna, she let Rihanna hug her. I cried. She also cried. She cried while beating me. You know, that kind of mother's punishments.

But that was okay. I would not stop holding her. We're back with the Sunday story. Rihanna's mother finally came to accept her, but there was still a fight ahead of them. Radio Workshop host Lesede Mwakle picks up the story. Her mom had a thousand questions. The first, are you gay? Rihanna paused, thinking through her answer.

I told her, Mama, I'm sorry to tell you this. Yes, I am, but I'm not gay, I'm trans. I'm a trans person. Then she said, ah, who are those now? What is that? Rihanna did what she could to explain, and her mom listened. She gave me that hearing ear, Rihanna said. Then her father came to the house, and he had a lot of questions too. Rihanna remembers he sat in a chair while she went to fetch him gege or a floor mat for her and her mother to sit. It's as if I was

telling my parents that I'm going to get married. What was most important for Rihanna to explain was her name, Rihanna. She told them she no longer wished to be called Jackson, her birth name. Ever since that day, they called me Rihanna. And my dad was like, it's okay. Rihanna. He never called me my name again in his life, even until the time he passed away, he was He was calling me Rihanna. That one word of Rihanna, I felt it was enough for me to be recognized by my family. Rihanna's sisters also called her Rihanna and they teased her. They said she should have consulted them because they would have suggested a better name, Nicki Minaj. I loved the fact that my sisters, my siblings were not looking at that homosexual that was put in me, dear. Rihanna was welcomed home that Christmas.

We ate, we enjoyed, and also realized that home was home, and it's always the best. But the questions never stopped. Her mom asked question after question after question, looking to understand and walk the unpredictable road with her child. And in time, her mother's views changed, radically. In 2019, a new national organization formed, PFLAG Uganda, an organization dedicated to supporting, educating, and advocating for LGBTQ plus people and those who love them. Because her mom was still perplexed and uncertain what to think, when Rihanna heard about PFLAG,

she thought, ah, this is perfect for my mother. When she met fellow parents, of course, she felt, wow, OK, there are even other people. And then every day she would, she left PFLAG meetings, she would come and say, I've got something new, you know, this is something very interesting. Wow, I need to go back next time. Rihanna's mom not only went back, she became a diehard member. Even though the Anti-Homosexuality Act of 2014 was declared unconstitutional on procedural ground, the effort to put a similar law in place never ended.

Which brings us to 2023, when Uganda's LGBT community came under renewed fire. It is in this climate that Riana's mom took a step that worried Riana. In March of 2023, just two months before President Museveni signed the Anti-Homosexuality Act, Rihanna's mom opposed the act publicly. She and seven other mothers who were part of PFLAG wrote an open letter. Take us to that scene, your mom's involvement.

Did you know she was going to do this? How did it make you feel? We had a small disagreement on that. Like, I'm being honest. Because why are you interested in being part of that? Riana was very concerned for her mother's safety. But her mother didn't care. She felt she needed to make a stand.

She was like, no, me, I have to go. I have to push for it. Sure. Me, I don't think it's right, you know? In my head, it traumatizes me a bit. The letter was published in The Monitor, a prominent daily newspaper in Uganda. It was titled, Open Letter to President Museveni from Mothers of LGBTQ Plus Individuals. It's a long and heartfelt message, a desperate cry from mothers who declare they can no longer stand on the sidelines, they can no longer watch as their children are bashed and threatened, as they put it.

At the heart of the letter, the mothers say we are not promoters of any agenda. We are Ugandan mothers who have had to overcome many of our own biases to fully understand, accept and love our children. We request you, our cherished president, not assent to the Anti-Homosexuality Bill and we instead ask that you task Parliament to enact laws that protect all children from all forms of violence and discrimination. The name of each mother was listed at the bottom of the letter. Riana's mom was the first, Jane Nasimboa. After the letter appeared in the newspaper, Jane and Riana went shopping together at a local market.

Someone there shouted that Jane must also be a homosexual because of her stance. Rihanna says in that moment, she witnessed her mother's spirit and resilience. She realized, too, that she'd never quite found the words to say how grateful she is. We asked Riana if she'd like to write a letter to her mother, expressing her feelings. She did, and she brought it to the interview, along with Jane. Mother and daughter sat across from each other. Jane is in a bright red chitenge dress, her hands resting in her lap. Ruth is at Rihanna's side for support as Rihanna reads aloud what she's written.

First in Luganda, then in English. Mama, olichibega vega kwenesigama. Olimkwa nuguange. Dear ma'am, me growing up as Rihanna, I didn't always show you how much I cared about you. You are truly my lifeline. You are a shoulder to whom I cry on. You are a mentor. Mommy, you are a friend, a supporter, and many more. Jane listened.

She looked at her hands, then back at Rihanna. Rihanna took her time to read. She expressed how grateful she was that her mother had taken a public stand against discrimination. Doing that, she said she became a mother for the entire LGBTQ community. But she told her mother she is concerned, scared even. I remember asking you, Mommy, do you think we should go on with this? Should we stop? You said no.

You had so much courage. And you told me that when a lion heads out to hunt, it doesn't turn back. You gave me that strong heart, mommy. You showed me what it means to have a strong heart. But I'm worried about your safety, mommy. As many people in the LGBTQ community slink back into the shadows for safety, Jane took a further radical step. Late last year, she joined a formal legal petition challenging the law. Other petitioners include members of the Ugandan

Parliament, human rights activists, a lawyer, a journalist, nine altogether. Regardless of the court's decision, Riana believes her mother isn be safe by having a plan, an escape. Anything happens to you, mommy. And you know the reason why people around where you are might be looking for me. And it hurts me a lot, mommy, to say this, honestly. You have helped me a lot in that time. And I keep on wondering, how can I ever show you how thankful I am, mommy? I love you with everything I have and more. Rihanna finished, put her letter away, and listened as her mom responded. You can bring a child into the world,

but you can never tell what they'll turn out to be. If you birth a child and they turn out to be trans, you cannot poison them or strangle them. At this point, it's not the project protecting me or keeping me safe. None of you can keep me safe. God keeps me safe. Because even if you run, if it's God's will, that's your final day. I'm not worried. It's you guys that not worried. It's you guys that are worried.

I'm not afraid. It is you that is afraid. Since our interview with Riana, her mother Jane continues to run her fruit and vegetable shop at a local market. The legal challenge she signed her name to was rejected by the Constitutional Court. It's now on appeal to the Ugandan Supreme Court. Jane has also expanded her activism. She's now joined an NGO advocating for women's rights. Rihanna runs an organization called Initiative for Rescue Uganda.

They provide help to people in prison and assist with transition to everyday life once they're released. Do you think of a moment that will let you know that, Rihanna, you've done the work? How would that look like? I can see my trans girls moving. Yeah, yeah. Moving. They're moving freely.

When I can wear my high shoe up there in Kampala, freely, trust me, that means I've done it all. And you will always say, Raina, thank you. But for now, no. This episode was reported for Radio Workshop by Ruth Muganzi. A special thanks to Rihanna and her mother, Jane Nasimbwa. Rob Rosenthal and Lasedi Mwakle produced and edited this episode. A special thanks to Gilbert Daniel Buede for sound engineering in Uganda. Radio Workshop's managing producer is Joe Jackson.

Music by Kamani Sambo at Edible Audio in Cape Town. Sound engineering by Joe Jackson and Mike Rayfelt. Radio Workshop trains youth across Africa to make radio and podcasts, bringing African youth stories to global audiences. To find out more, visit their website, radioworkshop.org. I'm Aisha Roscoe, and this is the Sunday Story. Up first, we'll be back tomorrow with all the news you need to start your week. Have a good rest of your weekend. Thank you.