Commentary
The future for LGBTIQ people in Uganda: Can we get there from here?
Country’s president has returned Anti-Homosexuality Act to Parliament
At present, LGBTIQ people in Uganda live with fear and trepidation, and rightfully so. They are under constant threat of violence being done to them by other Ugandans. Many who have been outed have been forced to leave where they were residing. Lacking the appropriate travel documents, they can’t go to other African countries, which would be far safer for them. So many come to Kampala, lacking food and shelter and any means of sustainable support. For them to survive under these circumstances presents a variety of very serious challenges.
While homophobia is widespread in Uganda now, its origin is neither Ugandan nor African. It is a consequence of colonialism, a British import if you will. Uganda became an independent country 50 years ago, yet the consequences of colonialism remain, particularly in the spiritual realm. Uganda is a very religious country in that many Ugandans regularly attend church and faith leaders hold important positions of authority in their communities. Some of the churches openly preach homophobia. This is how it spreads. More recently, homophobia in Uganda has been pushed hard by American Evangelical Christians, particularly Scott Lively, as explained in the documentary “God Loves Uganda”.
The current furor is due first, to the anticipation and then second, to the actual passage of the Anti-Homosexuality Bill of 2023 by the Ugandan Parliament. Many Ugandans don’t realize that a bill is not the same as a law. To make a bill into a law it is necessary for President Museveni to sign it. With the present bill, that has not yet happened, and maybe it never will. Recently, the bill was returned to Parliament for strengthening. The danger to LGBTIQ people in Uganda persists nevertheless because ordinary Ugandans are apt to take matters into their own hands.
It is also instructive to consider the recent history of similar legislation in Uganda. In December 2013, Parliament passed a bill quite similar to the current one. In February 2014, President Museveni signed the bill into law. Both in the interim between the bill passage and the President’s signing of it and afterwards as well, there was considerable international pressure applied to undo this law. The politics of this is interesting because, on the one hand, no African country wants to be seen as the puppet of Western powers, while on the other hand, there is considerable economic dependence on these same powers. In August 2014, the Constitutional Court of Uganda annulled the law, ruling that it had been passed without a sufficient quorum. Then in 2019 another effort was made in Parliament to pass the popularly named “Kill The Gays” bill. It was eventually passed by Parliament in May 2021, but then was vetoed by President Museveni in August 2021.
However, it is not just legislative politics that matters regarding the cause of the current situation. Consider the chilling effect generated by Maj. Gen. Francis Takirwa’s public request that health workers in Uganda not treat homosexuals. Most LGBTIQ people in Uganda already viewed health centers as off limits to them, as those were places where they’d face existential threats. Yet HIV is a severe problem in Uganda and those health centers are the way the Ugandan government intends to address the problem. Apparently, it doesn’t address the problem within the gay community in Uganda.
Now let me turn to the organization that I represent, Universal Love Alliance. In fulfilling its mission, ULA provides assistance to the marginalized in Ugandan society. We have given a broad sweep to who counts as marginalized. It includes orphaned children whose parents died from HIV. It includes women with HIV who have lost their husbands and then rely on each other to sustain themselves economically. It includes women battered by their husbands, and the husbands too if they show remorse after the fact. And it includes LGBTIQ people. In more recent time, given the turn of events, ULA has had to refocus its energy. Now our attention is fully on the plight of LGBTIQ people in Uganda.
Their needs are many and varied. When they arrive in Kampala, they need food and shelter, at least on a temporary basis. They may then need a plan for relocation, within Uganda, and some education on how to not be outed in their new location. A good fraction of them has HIV or are fearful that they have it. They need counseling, education and treatment. Alas, some of the counseling is to encourage their mental stability. Many report being suicidal.
These health needs can be provided by health professionals who follow their professional obligations and aren’t swayed by the machinations of Maj. Gen. Francis Takirwa. The other needs can be provided either by ULA or by others in the network of friends that ULA has cultivated around Uganda. Indeed, given that relocation is a big part of the picture, it is efficient for the solution to be distributed in a way that reflects where these people will ultimately reside and not merely be a consequence of their first stop on the journey.
Alas, all of this requires money to implement. At present, most of this money is not in Uganda; rather it is distributed abroad. At issue is whether those funds will find their way to Uganda in the very near future.
Let me close with the following. What I have learned during the extraordinary times that I have been in charge at ULA is that we need to rely on each other. We can’t do it all alone. The title of this piece is about the future of LGBTIQ people in Uganda. That future depends on you. We can’t get from here to there without you. I hope you understand that and agree to help us.
Turinawe Samson is the executive director of Universal Love Alliance. ULA Facebook Page, ULA Foundation Facebook Page
Commentary
Protecting the trans community is not optional for elected allies and candidates
One of oldest political tactics is blaming vulnerable group for societal woes
Being an ally to the trans community is not a conditional position for me, nor should it be for any candidate. My allyship doesn’t hinge on polling, focus groups, or whether courage feels politically convenient. At a time when trans people, especially trans youth of color, are under coordinated attack, elected officials and candidates must do more than offer quiet support. We must take a public and solid stand.
History shows us how these moments begin. One of the oldest political tactics is to single out the most vulnerable and blame them for society’s anxieties — not because they are responsible, but because they are easier to blame than those with power and protection. In Nazi Germany, Jewish people were primarily targeted, but they were not the only demographic who suffered elimination. LGBTQ people, disabled people, Romani communities, political dissidents, and others were also rounded up, imprisoned, and killed. Among the earliest acts of fascistic repression was the destruction of Berlin’s Institute for Sexual Science, a pioneering center for gender-affirming care and LGBTQ research. These books and medical records were among the first to be confiscated and burned. It is not a coincidence that these same communities are now the first to suffer under this regime, they are our canaries in the coal mine signaling what’s to come.
Congress, emboldened by the rhetoric of the Donald Trump campaign, recently passed HR 3492 to criminalize healthcare workers who provide gender-affirming healthcare with fines and imprisonment. This bill, sponsored by celebrity politicians like Marjorie Taylor Greene, puts politics and headlines over people and health outcomes. Healthcare that a number of cis-gendered people also benefit from byway of hair regeneration and surgery, male and female breast augmentation, hormone replacement therapy etc. Even when these bills targeting this care do not pass, they do real damage. They create fear among patients, legal uncertainty for providers, and instability for clinics that serve the most marginalized people in our communities.
Here in D.C., organizations like Planned Parenthood and Whitman-Walker Health are lifelines for many communities. They provide gender-affirming care alongside primary care, mental health services, HIV treatment, and preventative medicine. When healthcare is politicized or criminalized, people don’t wait for court rulings — they delay care, ration medication, or disappear from the system entirely.
As a pharmacist, I know exactly what that means. These are life-saving medications. Continuity of care matters. Criminalizing and politicizing healthcare does not protect children or families — it puts lives at risk.
Instead of centering these realities, political discourse has been deliberately diverted toward a manufactured panic about trans women in sports. Let me be clear: trans women deserve to be protected and allowed to compete just like anyone else. Athletics have always included people with different bodies, strengths, and abilities. Girls and women will always encounter competitors who are stronger or faster — that is not a gender or sports crisis, it is the nature of competition.
Sports are meant to teach fairness, mutual respect, and the shared spirit of competition — not suspicion or exclusion. We should not police young people’s bodies, and we should reject attempts to single out trans youth as a political distraction. Families and doctors should be the authority on sex and gender identity.
This narrative has been cynically amplified by the right, but too often Democrats have allowed it to take hold rather than forcefully rejecting it. It is imperative to pay attention to what is happening — and to push back against every attempt to dehumanize anyone for political gain.
Trans people have always been part of our communities and our democracy. Protecting the most vulnerable is not radical — it is the foundation of a just society. My work is grounded in that commitment, and I will not waver from it. I’m proud to have hired trans political team Down Ballot to lead my campaign for DC Council At Large. We need more ally leaders of all stages to stand up for the LGBTQ+ community. We must let elected detractors know that when they come for them, then they come for all of us. We cannot allow Fox News and social media trolls to create a narrative that scares us away from protecting marginalized populations. We must stand up and do what’s right.
Anything less is not leadership.
Rep. Oye Owolewa is running for an at-large seat on the D.C. Council.
Commentary
America is going in the wrong direction for intersex children
Lawmakers are criminalizing care for trans youth, while permitting irreversible harm to intersex babies
I live with the consequences of what America is willing to condone in the name of “protecting children.”
When I was young, doctors and adults made irreversible decisions about my body without my informed consent. They weren’t responding to an emergency. They were responding to discomfort with innate physical differences and the social and medical pressure to make a child’s body conform to a rigid female-male binary. That’s the part people like to skip over when they talk about “child welfare”: the harm didn’t begin with my identity. It started with adults deciding my healthy body needed fixing.
That’s why the hypocrisy unfolding right now from statehouses to Capitol Hill feels so familiar, and so dangerous.
While harmful medical practices on intersex children, the nearly 2 percent born with differences in one or more of their physical sex characteristics, have been ongoing in the U.S. for decades, until recently, there was no law specifically condoning it.
This month, House Republicans passed one of the most extreme anti-trans bills in modern American history, advancing legislation that would criminalize gender-affirming medical care for transgender youth and threaten doctors with severe penalties for providing evidence-based treatment. The bill is framed as a measure to “protect children,” but in reality, it weaponizes the criminal legal system against families and providers who are trying to support young people in surviving adolescence.
At the same time, the administration has proposed hospital and insurance policies designed to choke off access to affirming care for trans youth nationwide by making providers fear loss of federal funding, regulatory retaliation, or prosecution. This is a familiar strategy: don’t just ban care outright; instead, make it so risky that hospitals stop providing it altogether. The result is the same everywhere. Young people lose access to care that major medical associations agree can be lifesaving.
All of this is happening under the banner of preventing “irreversible harm.”
But if America were genuinely concerned about irreversible harm to minors, the first thing lawmakers would address is the medically unnecessary, nonconsensual surgeries still performed on intersex infants and young children, procedures that permanently alter healthy tissue, often without urgent medical need, and long before a child can meaningfully participate in the decision. Human rights organizations have documented for years how these interventions are justified not by medical necessity, but by social pressure to make bodies appear more typically “female” or “male.”
Here is the uncomfortable truth: all of the state laws now banning gender-affirming care for transgender youth explicitly include exceptions that allow nonconsensual and harmful intersex surgeries to continue.
A recent JAMA Health Forum analysis found that 28 states have enacted bans on gender-affirming care for minors that carve out intersex exceptions, preserving doctors’ ability to perform irreversible “normalizing” procedures on intersex children even while prohibiting affirming care for trans adolescents.
This contradiction is not accidental. It reveals the real priority behind these laws.
If the goal were truly to protect children from irreversible medical interventions, intersex kids would be protected first. Instead, these policies target one group of children, transgender youth, while continuing to permit permanent interventions on another group whose bodies challenge the same rigid sex and gender binary that lawmakers are trying to enforce.
Intersex people are routinely erased from American policy debates, except when our bodies are invoked to justify harmful laws, warning that intersex children are being used as legal loopholes rather than protected as human beings. This “protect the children” rhetoric is routinely deployed to justify state control over bodies, while preserving medical practices that stripped intersex children like me of autonomy, good health, and choice. Those harms are not theoretical. They are lifelong.
What makes this moment even more jarring is that the federal government had finally begun to recognize intersex people and attempt to address the harms suffered.
In 2024, at the very end of his term, the Biden administration released the first-ever intersex health equity report — a landmark admission that intersex people have been harmed by the U.S. health care system. Issued by the Department of Health and Human Services, the report documents medically unnecessary interventions, lack of informed consent, and systemic erasure and recommends delaying irreversible procedures until individuals can meaningfully participate in decisions about their own bodies.
This should have been a turning point. Instead, America is moving in the opposite direction.
On day one, President Trump issued an executive order defining “sex” in a way attempting to delegitimize the existence of transgender Americans that also erased the existence of many intersex people.
When medicine is used to erase difference, it is called protection, while care that supports self-understanding is treated as a threat. This is not about medicine. It is about control.
You cannot claim to oppose irreversible harm to children while legally permitting surgeries that intersex adults and human rights experts have condemned for decades. You cannot claim to respect bodily autonomy while denying it selectively, based on whose bodies make lawmakers uncomfortable.
Protecting children means protecting all children, transgender, intersex, and cisgender alike. It means delaying irreversible interventions when they are not medically necessary. It means trusting and supporting young people and families over politicians chasing culture-war victories.
America can continue down the path of criminalizing care for some children while sanctioning harm to others, or it can finally listen to the people who have lived the consequences.
Intersex children deserve laws that protect their bodies, not politics that hurt and erase them.
Kimberly Zieselman is a human rights advocate and the author of “XOXY: A Memoir”. The author is a co-author of the JAMA Health Forum article cited, which examined state laws restricting gender-affirming care.
Today, on World AIDS Day, we honor the resilience, courage, and dignity of people living with HIV everywhere especially refugees, asylum seekers, and queer displaced communities across East Africa and the world.
For many, living with HIV is not just a health journey it is a journey of navigating stigma, borders, laws, discrimination, and survival.
Yet even in the face of displacement, uncertainty, and exclusion, queer people living with HIV continue to rise, thrive, advocate, and build community against all odds.
To every displaced person living with HIV:
• Your strength inspires us.
• Your story matters.
• You are worthy of safety, compassion, and the full right to health.
• You deserve a world where borders do not determine access to treatment, where identity does not determine dignity, and where your existence is celebrated not criminalized.
Let today be a reminder that:
• HIV is not a crime.
• Queer identity is not a crime.
• Seeking safety is not a crime.
• Stigma has no place in our communities.
• Access to treatment, care, and protection is a human right.
As we reflect, we must recommit ourselves to building systems that protect not punish displaced queer people living with HIV. We must amplify their voices, invest in inclusive healthcare, and fight the inequalities that fuel vulnerability.
Hope is stronger when we build it together.
Let’s continue to uplift, empower, and walk alongside those whose journeys are too often unheard.
Today we remember.
Today we stand together.
Today we renew hope.
Abraham Junior lives in the Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan.
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