On Wednesday, Pope Francis embarks on his inaugural visit to Africa with an ambitious itinerary that includes three countries with 87 million people and encompasses some of the biggest issues facing not only the Catholic Church, but also the world. During his six-day visit he will meet with regional leaders in Kenya, Uganda and the violence-wracked Central African Republic—his first visit to an active war zone. In public celebrations of Mass and in private meetings with religious leaders and speeches to representatives from the United Nation’s Environment Program, which is based in Nairobi, Pope Francis is expected to address climate change, poverty, religious extremism and refugees.
True to his reputation as a man of the people, he will spend much of his time with the poor, the downtrodden and the marginalized, meeting child soldiers, ministering to people with HIV, spending time with refugees fleeing religious violence, meeting Muslim leaders and touring one of Kenya’s biggest shantytowns. Francis isn’t coming to Africa on official Catholic Church business so much as he is using the continent to demonstrate the urgency of finding practical solutions to global concerns.
The reception in Africa, where millions are expected to attend his open-air masses and hundreds of millions more to watch on TV, is a demonstration of how Pope Francis’ appeal transcends religion and speaks to a continent-wide craving for recognition and compassion. “There is a huge sense of excitement and anticipation,” says Lane Bunkers, the Kenya and Somalia country representative for the U.S. based Catholic Relief Services aid organization, by telephone from Nairobi. “This guy has a message that has crossed all religious boundaries and resonates with many people.”
In Kenya, where a third of the population is Catholic, the pope will encounter outsize expectations. According to a recent report by the Infotrak polling organization, more than 75 percent of Kenyans from all religious backgrounds hope to see the pope tackle corruption, accountability and tribal biases among Kenyan leaders. That’s a lot to ask of Francis. While the topic of responsible leadership may come up in his sermons and speeches, he is not one to criticize leaders directly, as U.S. President Barack Obama did in his recent trip to Kenya, where he raised the issue of government corruption as an impediment to growth and stability.
Instead, says Bunkers, Francis may be more effective as a role model. The Pontiff’s first stop in Kenya will be at Nairobi’s State House, which will provide a good opportunity to stress the importance of Christian service to elected officials, says Bunkers. “Those who suffer the most from corruption are the most vulnerable—the poor who aren’t getting an education or health care or welfare because of the misuse of public funds. So I think the message needs to be service to the poor, and the responsibility that comes with the trust and faith that the people have put in these officials.”
Pope Francis’ speech to the UN agency in charge of environmental protection will have a global audience, coming just three days before world leaders convene in Paris for a conference on climate change. The pope has already proved himself an ardent environmentalist with the release of his encyclical on environmental protection in June, which calls for a more responsible use of nature’s riches. His speech, coming in a country especially vulnerable to climate change brought about largely by consumption in the rich nations of the world, serves as the second half of that message, and will help drive his points home.
So too will Pope Francis’ visit to a church in Nairobi’s Kangemi slum, home to an estimated 100,000 residents who live largely off the grid and with limited access to sewage and sanitation services. “It is God’s gift the pope is coming to this church,” Father Melchior Marandu of the St. Joseph the Worker Church toldThe Star, a Kenyan newspaper. “This is not a rich area, it is just a slum. That’s a powerful sign: he is telling us we are not forgotten.”
Francis may have more difficulty navigating official Catholic doctrine that pits Africa’s highly conservative church leaders against the pope’s more liberal message of tolerance on controversial issues such as homosexuality and divorce. Gay sex is illegal in several African countries, including both Kenya and Uganda, and discrimination against homosexuals is both widespread and, in some cases, encouraged by church leaders.
Though not on the official agenda, homosexual rights may come up on the pope’s visit to Uganda, where a small but determined group of gay rights activists continues to fight anti-gay legislation. They are hoping that Pope Francis will share his message of relative acceptance—“Who am I to judge?” he once said in response to a question about homosexuality—during his visit. “We pray that this pope can be successful in bringing a message of tolerance for those who are different from us as far as their human sexuality is concerned,” says Uganda’s former Anglican Bishop Disani Christopher Senyonjo. Now retired, Senyonjo has campaigned tirelessly on behalf of Uganda’s Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender population, saying that they are all equal before God. “If the pope can demonstrate understanding of people who are different, that would a good example for the people of Uganda to follow,” he says. Especially since nearly half the population of Uganda is Catholic.
On November 29, Pope Francis flies to his final, and most dangerous, destination in Africa: Bangui, the war-torn capital of the Central African Republic (CAR), Bangui. CAR has been embroiled in violence ever since the newly-elected president, François Bozize, was deposed in 2013 by a group of disgruntled Muslim rebels. A Christian militia rose up in response, and both sides have engaged in a series of reprisal attacks that have left an estimated 6,000 dead.
Pope Francis plans to visit a camp for people displaced by the violence, and then to pray at Bangui’s central mosque. In a French-language radio message released on November 23, the pope told residents of the Central African Republic that, “I hope with all my heart that my visit may contribute, in one way or another, to alleviate your wounds and to favor conditions for a better, more serene future.”
Unlike his diplomatic work on Cuba, in which he encouraged the U.S. to normalize relations with an historic enemy, Pope Francis has a limited political role to play between the CAR’s warring militias. But his call for inter-religous harmony just a month before presidential elections could calm tensions enough to ensure a stable transition. “Seeing him shake hands and pray with Muslim leaders would go a long way towards encouraging inter-faith dialogue,” says Bunkers of Catholic Relief Services, which promotes such dialogues among divided communities throughout Africa.
Despite the fact that the United Nations has deployed 300 extra personnel to provide security for the pope’s visit, tensions are still high, and the papal security team says that it may have to cancel the pope’s visit at the last minute. “The pope wants to go to the Central African Republic, [and] the plan is still for him to go,” papal spokesperson Federico Lombardi told journalists on Friday. But, he added, “As every wise person would, we’re monitoring the situation.” If there is a change of plans, he noted, it would be out of concern for people attending papal event, and not for the pope himself. That would disappoint CAR’s majority Christian population, but it could also derail the country’s best chance at bringing the warring sides together in a peace-building mission that could save thousands more lives.
Chronicling the Struggles of LGBT People Around the World
Joseph Kawesi, 31
Uganda, March 2015
Joseph Kawesi, a transgender woman, sits at home in the Ugandan capital of Kampala with her mother Mai, 65.
Kawesi still has nightmares about the night in December 2012 when she says police officers dragged her out of her home after a tip-off that she might be gay. She says the officers beat her, and then raped her with a club. Kawesi is now an activist working to support LGBT people affected by HIV/AIDS in Uganda.
Uganda's president signed an Anti-Homosexuality Act into law in Feb. 2014, that broadened the criminalization of same-sex relationships, adding to colonial-era laws that already prohibited sodomy. The law was overturned on a technicality in August, but Parliament could pass a new anti-homosexuality bill this year.Robin HammondKasha Jacqueline Nabagesera, 34Uganda, March 2015
“We have a very long way to go in this struggle but I am glad that we are not just sitting back," says Kasha Jacqueline Nabagesera, 34, one of the early pioneers of the gay-rights struggle in Uganda.
In 2003, she founded Freedom and Roam Uganda, a gay-rights advocacy group; last December she published and distributed Bombastic, a free magazine focused on the personal stories of Uganda's gay men and women. Robin HammondHakim Semeebwr, 26Uganda, March 2015
Hakim Semeebwr, a transgender woman and sex worker in Kampala, Uganda, is also a drag queen and goes by the name Bad Black. She says: "Ugandans, they had something in their heads that gays are sick, cursed, abnormal and not African. Now that we are out, they can't deny we are Ugandan."Robin HammondIshmel (left) and Gabriel (right) (not their real names)
Nigeria, April 2014In December 2013 they say a vigilante group, suspecting them of being gay, took them from their homes in the northern state of Bauchi. Under Bauchi's Islamic Sharia law, the penalty for gay sex is death by stoning. Ishmel and Gabriel say they were deprived of food and light and beaten in prison. They were eventually acquitted of the crime because there were no witnesses (Shari'a requires four), but both say they were cast out of their homes for bringing shame on their families. Since January 2014 when then-President Goodluck Jonathan signed a law criminalizing same-sex relationships, arrests of gay people in Nigeria have multiplied. Robin HammondBuje (not his real name)
Nigeria, April 2014
Buje spent more than 40 days in prison after being taken from his home by a vigilante group aligned to the Bauchi City Shar'ia Courts in December 2013.
After guards beat him in prison with electric cables, Buje confessed to committing homosexual acts. They lashed him 15 times with a horsewhip as punishment. He says his family told him: “God should take your life away so that everyone will have peace because you have caused such shame to our family.” Since Nigeria’s president signed a harsh law criminalizing same-sex relationships in Jan. 2014, arrests of gay people have multiplied and advocates have been forced to go underground or seek asylum overseas.Robin HammondTiwonge Chimbalanga
Malawi, Nov. 2014
Transgender woman Tiwonge Chimbalanga married Steven Monjeza in 2009 but on Dec. 28 of that year they were arrested and charged with various offences relating to unnatural indecent practices between men. The magistrate sentenced them to 14 years imprisonment, saying it was to protect Malawian society from being “tempted to emulate this horrendous example.”
Because Malawi is a signatory to numerous human rights treaties, there was international outcry over the case. Amnesty International declared them both 'prisoners of conscience.' After five months in prison, on May 29 2010, then President Bingu wa Mutharika pardoned Chimbalanga and Monjeza, releasing them on the condition that they had no further contact with one another. Fearing for her safety, Chimbalanga fled to South Africa where she lives now. She is still struggling to find a job.
In July 2014, the Justice Minister announced that Malawi would review its anti-gay laws and no longer arrest people for homosexual activity, but it remains illegal. On April 17 2015, a new law came into force banning all same-sex marriages and unions.Robin HammondFlavirina Naze
South Africa, Nov. 2014
33-year-old Flavirina Naze, a transgender woman from Burundi, says she left her home country because she had suffered physical attacks because of her sexuality. In Burundi, the penalty for same-sex sexual activity is imprisonment for up to two years.
During a transgender conference in South Africa in 2009, Naze says an LGBT activist warned her that it might be dangerous to return to Burundi because persecution of the LGBT community was increasing as elections approached.
Fearing for her life, she decided to stay in South Africa, where she was granted asylum. When her asylum permit expired, she could not afford to renew it and is now in South Africa illegally, where she cannot get a job. She has become a sex worker in order to survive.Robin HammondDolores (left) and Naomi (right)
Yaoundé, Cameroon, Dec. 2014
Transgender women Dolores and Naomi say they were stopped at a police checkpoint after spending the evening at a club and taken to the station because they could not produce identification. They say police beat them severely every night for a week, until they were sent to provisional detention, where they remained for three months. Eventually they were found guilty of homosexuality and sentenced to five years in prison.
Human rights campaigner and lawyer Alice N’kom appealed the conviction and prosecutors dropped the case due to a lack of evidence. Dolores and Naomi were acquitted in January 2013 after 18 months in prison. “I was obliged to undertake any kind of activity to survive,” says Dolores. “Prison is the worst place I have ever been.”Robin HammondAmanda (not her real name)
South Africa, Nov. 2014
Amanda says she was traveling with a friend in 2007 when a man asked her if she dated girls and if she was a lesbian. When Amanda said yes, she says the man pulled out a gun, put it to her head and said: “I’m going to show you are a girl.” He told her to strip off her clothes and raped her. He ran away but Amanda went to the police station and the police managed to arrest him.
He was eventually found guilty and sentenced to 10 years behind bars. But Amanda, 28, still feels afraid. “I hope I will be okay one day because he got what he deserves."
Despite South Africa becoming the first country in the world to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation in 1993, homophobic sentiment and violence runs high. Robin HammondBoniwe Tyatyeka
Cape Town, South Africa, Nov. 2014
Boniwe Tyatyeka holds a framed photograph of her daughter Nontsikelelo (also called Ntsikie) who disappeared in September 2010. One year later, her decomposed body was found in a neighbor’s dustbin; she had been raped, beaten and strangled to death. According to Tyatyeka, the neighbor said he had done it to change her because she was a lesbian.
South Africa was the first country on the continent to legalize same-sex marriage and its constitution guarantees LGBT rights, but social stigma around homosexuality remains. “Nitsikie was a child with dreams,” Boniwe says. “Even now when I’m on the go, I am always looking out like I will hopefully see Ntsikie.”Robin HammondNisha Ayub
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015
Nisha Ayub, 35, is a transgender woman who was arrested and sentenced to three months in prison for cross-dressing, a practice illegal under Malaysia's Islamic law. She was imprisoned in the male section, where she says she was verbally and physically abused.
Despite having breast implants earlier that year, she says she was made to walk topless through the prison and the guards shaved off her long hair. "One of the worst things about being in prison is that you don't feel like you own your body anymore," she says.
Once released, Ayub discovered she had lost her job in a hotel so she became a hostess in a bar, where she had to perform sex acts for money. Eventually, she heard of an NGO in Kuala Lumpur helping transgender people and now she advocates for other transgender women in Malaysia.Robin HammondAbinaya Jayaraman
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015.
Abinaya Jayaraman always considered herself a boy until her late teens, when she started to learn about the transgender community. She was very scared to tell her strict family about her true identity but in June 2008, she finally told her mother but was rejected, she says.
Desperately lonely, Jayaraman attempted suicide in April 2009 with a cocktail of sleeping pills and painkillers. She says her mother didn’t visit her once during her three-month hospital stay. The family later disowned her and threw her out of the house. Uncomfortable with acting like a man at work, she eventually quit her job in corporate banking and turned to sex work to survive.
“I have no choice. I’m lonely, homeless and live in fear because I decided to be who I am. If I had the chance I would leave Malaysia and go somewhere where I can live and earn with dignity," she says. In Section 377 of Malaysia’s Penal Code, homosexual acts between men and women are criminalized and can amount to whipping and a 20-year prison sentence.Robin HammondO (right) and D (left)
St Petersburg, Russia, Nov. 2014
Lesbian couple O (27) and D (23) were holding hands and sharing a kiss on their way home after a jazz concert late at night on Oct. 19 when they say they were attacked. A stranger accused them of being lesbians, punching and kicking them repeatedly.
Although Russia decriminalized same-sex relationships between consenting adults in private in 1993, there are currently no laws prohibiting discrimination towards LGBT people. In June 2013 Russia introduced federal law criminalizing the distribution of LGBT “propaganda” among minors, which prompted international uproar.
“Now, in Russia, holding hands is dangerous for us,” says O. “But if the goal of these attackers was to separate us, they failed. They only made our relationship stronger.”Robin HammondMitch Yusmar
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015
47-year-old transgender man Mitch Yusmar is photographed at home in Malaysia with his partner of 17 years, Lalita Abdullah, and their adopted children Izzy and Daniya.
The Malaysian government retains a penal code criminalizing sodomy that dates back to the colonial era. It can include a 20-year-prison sentence and even corporal punishment. Yusmar’s relationship with his partner is not legally recognized and they live in fear that their family could be torn apart if something happened to Abdullah, who is the only legally recognized parent.
“The core of our being is our family,” he says. “It can become very frustrating that we need to work doubly hard to ensure that our basic rights are looked after. But we have hope that some day things will be better.”Robin HammondSally
Beirut, Lebanon, Feb. 2015.
Sally, a transgender woman, arrived in Lebanon last summer fleeing her home in Syria when one of her family members joined the Islamic State of Iraq and Greater Syria (ISIS). She says ISIS kidnapped, interrogated and likely killed her last partner.
“They are worse than the Syrian investigation services. ISIS consider gays as a contagious disease, so that’s why they kill them,” she says. Sally says many of her gay friends have been captured and stoned to death, shot or pushed from the roof of buildings, even when there is no proof (which is required under Islamic law).
Sally now has a short-term job in Beirut teaching literacy to survive and is waiting for resettlement. “I can never go back to Syria. If I went back, they would kill me," she says.Robin HammondKhalid Beirut Lebanon, Feb. 2015.
Khalid, 36, left his home in the Iraqi city of Baghdad after a great deal of persecution. He had been in a relationship for a year with another man when one day in 2013, his boyfriend’s older brother found them in bed together and informed both families.
In Iraq, same-sex relationships are legal but are considered taboo by the majority of the population and honor killings are common. “I was really afraid for my life,” says Khalid. He left home and went to rent a room in Baghdad’s red light district but in the second week of his stay, the landlord came into his room drunk and raped him.
Khalid moved into another area of the city but he started receiving death threats from a work colleague who belonged to an extreme religious sect. One night, the colleague propositioned Khalid and, when he refused, pulled out a gun and raped him. “After that I couldn’t look into the eyes of anyone at work,” he says.
Khalid then began a relationship with a doctor and moved in with him, but one night the doctor invited two friends round and the three men raped Khalid. He knew that violence against gay people was increasing, and that a religious group had killed two of his friends already.
Two Lebanese organizations, ‘Proud’ and ‘Secret Garden’ advised him to leave Iraq. He left at the end of January 2015 and came straight to Beirut, where he applied for refugee status and is awaiting resettlement. He says: “What we are facing is beyond what anyone could imagine, because reality is much worse than what I mentioned.”Robin HammondGad (not his real name)
Beirut, Lebanon, Feb. 2015
33-year-old Gad says he left the war-torn city of Homs, Syria in July 2014 because his neighborhood was bombed several times. He moved to Lebanon in search of a job to assist his parents. He found work at the hammam giving massages. (Gay men often go to hammams for sex)
In August 2014, police raided his place of work and took the staff and clients to the Hbeish, the morality police. He says they kicked, punched and beat them with water tubes, demanding names of other gay people.
The Lebanese penal code prohibits having sexual relations that ‘contradict the laws of nature’, punishable by up to a year in prison. A humanitarian organization provided them with lawyers and they were released after 28 days, but since Gad’s release, he hasn’t been able to find a job or a place to live. “They cancel our dignity just because we are gays.” Robin Hammond