September 22, 2019 by trs

Faces of Malawi: LGBTI Refugees

Here in Malawi, I have at times tried to highlight everyday people in this country, one of the world’s poorest and arguably least known, to demonstrate both the diversity and the commonalities. This year I have had the opportunity to meet a group of LGBTI refugees who, when faced with harassment and/or assault at the Dzaleka refugee camp, were placed in a safehouse, and sought the chance to speak to an American regarding their experiences. Over the past half year, I have been able to meet with all of them, to get to know them a little and listen to the stories that brought them here.

I thought meeting them again, interviewing them and taking their photos, would result in a fairly straightforward blogpost, but it has turned out much harder than I expected. Their stories, told in the dispassionate manner of people who have been through a lot — the fear of being caught, of something happening to them or their partner; of being turned in by family members, run out of town or followed by police or arrested, and having to flee their country, of having to use sexual favors as payment for rides to get from one place to another–were a lot to take in. I have struggled with the line between my compassion and desire to shed a light on people and issues versus my self-interest and privilege.

All I could think about as I began this post was one of those web-based privilege tests: I was born in America. I am white. I am heterosexual. I have never had to lie about my sexuality. I never doubted my parents’ acceptance of my sexuality. I feel comfortable in the gender I was born in. I graduated high school. I graduated college. I work in a salaried job. I have never been homeless. I have never been a refugee…. I cannot begin to know what it is to be a LGBTI sub-Saharan African, ostracized by family, and living as a refugee far from home, in a country where I cannot work, where my movements are limited.

They fled poor circumstances for an even poorer country, a country where the status of LGBTI persons is no better. In 2016, Afrobarometer, a non-partisan, pan-African research institution that conducts public attitude surveys, released a report that found Malawians are among the most tolerant people in Africa. Malawians are very tolerant of different religions, different ethnic backgrounds, immigrants and foreign workers, and even have little issue with those living with HIV and AIDS. Malawi is also a host country for refugees, and is making gradual shifts to switch from an encampment policy to one of settlement and integration. However, when it comes to LGBTI persons, Malawians, in general, are not at all accepting, rating lower that most other African countries. And it is in this context these LGBTI refugees arrived — not only outsiders as refugees, but outsiders among the outsiders.

(Note: each refugee provided me with an alias; the youngest of the refugees, “Bandina” and “Happy” had the most fun choosing their aliases and were overall the most optimistic of the group; also note: my first meeting with two of these individuals was as a function of my work, but my continued association has been for personal reasons)

“Dan”

Dan, 30, is from Kampala, Uganda. Several years ago he was in his fourth year studying science and information technology at university, with plans to work on designing protection networks for businesses, when his sister’s boyfriend told his mother about his relationship with his partner; his mother turned him into police. Forced to flee he left Uganda, he headed to Kakuma Refugee Camp in the northwest corner of Kenya, where he spent two years before he was again forced to leave. He remembers having a happy childhood, a time when his mother loved him. Should he be able to settle in Malawi or resettle elsewhere, he would like to finish school. He would like to write a biography, help other LGBTI refugees, and start or be part of a campaign to change the narrative on LGBTI persons in Africa.

“Marvin”

Marvin, 31, is also from Kampala. He finished high school and started at a technical institute studying computer science, but had to drop out due to financial issues paying the tuition. In 2016, he went to Dubai to work as a computer technician, where he spent two years. Upon his return to Uganda, he felt targeted. He is not sure who might have put the police on to him, but his work abroad seemed to be part of it. He was taken in for interrogation, accused of bringing LGBTI ideas into the country. He spent three days in a police “safehouse” with only water. During his time in custody, his car was burned and his home vandalized; his family disowned him. He was assigned a human rights laywer to defend him in court, but that lawyer gave him the stark reality of LGBTI cases in court. Marvin decided it was time to leave, as he said “being LGBTI in Uganda is like having a curse.” He traveled freely to Tanzania, and then through to Malawi. Should he have the opportunity he wants to be an entrepreneur; nothing in particular, he just wants to get a job and be happy.

“Sasha”

Sasha, 28, is from Kenya. She does not know her parents; she grew up in a home for girls in Mombasa. There were about 100 girls there. She finished her BA in education and started her MA in gender development, but although she sat for her exams, she was unable to receive diploma. She moved to Nairobi and taught geography and Kiswahili in a high school, before her LGBTI status was discovered, and she was chased out. She tried to return to Mombasa where she also found she was no longer welcome. Although Sasha shared some of her journey to Malawi with me, I suspect more happened to her in Kenya than she would let on; she told me she can never return there. She used to enjoy swimming, both in pools and in the sea, and was captain of her softball team at University, and wishes she had equipment here to play. She is passionate about working to help other LGBTI in Africa, but she also would just like to open her own shop, selling clothing, perfume, and take away beer.

“Patrick”

Patrick, 29, is also from Kampala. He finished high school and used to work as a carpenter, specializing in furniture renovation. About two years ago he attended his boyfriend’s birthday party, on New Year’s Eve. His boyfriend’s “auntie” caught them kissing and turned him into police. Two days later, after his family disowned him, he left Uganda. He first went to Kenya, where he met Dan, and the two of them worked in the Kakuma Refugee Camp, until again being forced to move on. Should he be resettled in another country, he would like to join his new nation’s military. He would like to prove to his parents and his community that he could be someone and help others.

“James”

James, 35, is also from Kampala. He finished high school and worked first as a bookkeeper at a supermarket and then opened his own unisex boutique clothing store. He comes from a large family; he has 12 siblings. He had an American partner, but when they were arrested his partner could flee back to the States, but James could not. After suffering persecution (he did not elaborate), and most of his family had turned their backs on him (one brother stays in touch off and on) he fled Uganda, coming straight to Malawi. When in high school he thought he might like to continue his studies to become a lawyer, but he could not afford the tuition. If given the chance, he would like to go to law school to become a human rights lawyer.

“Bandina”

Bandina, 21, is from the Kivu province of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where there has been an ongoing conflict since 2004. Her English is not strong, so the other refugees translated her Kiswahili to me. One told me although many refer to Bandina as transgender, she told me she is intersex, but still seeking to find out just who she is. Bandina is effervescent; she is lively, full of energy. Even the time I took her to the clinic when she had malaria, she exuded positive energy. She finished only primary school as money issues always held her back. She left the DRC in 2017, traveling by truck for twelve days through Burundi and Tanzania, to reach Malawi. She wants to help other LGBTI, but really her dream is the same as it was when she was a child–she wants to run a restaurant or a fashion salon as she says her two favorite things are fashion and eating.

“Happy”

Happy, 23, is from a small town in west-central Uganda. His mother left the family when he was two years old, so he grew up with just his father and elder brother. He attended a boarding high school, but it was here, at 17, he was caught by the headmaster with his boyfriend. They were taken to the office, beaten, and expelled. His boyfriend’s father had senior police connections; the police went to his father’s home, destroyed the house, and forced his father to sell the land. Happy did not go home and to this day he does not know what happened to his family. He fled Uganda, traveling first to Nairobi, but after four months there and suffering additional harassment and physical attacks, he headed to Malawi. Happy just would like to continue his studies and become a plumber.

August 26, 2018 by trs

One Year in Malawi

It has been one year since we arrived in Malawi. I have killed approximately 3,755 insects. This includes the Great Moth Massacre of 2017, when overrun with small light brown moths whose exuberant spawning blanketed all outside walls of my home drove me to terribly irrational behavior. I grabbed one of my black slip-on Skechers and ran outside smacking moths right and left, determined to end the lives of at least 1000. I did it, but my temporary insanity rubbed the skin of purlicue (the fascinating word for the web-like area between your index finger and thumb) raw of my right hand. There was also the Terrible Termite Invasion of 2017. While sitting at the dining room table, a few winged termites lazily swooped around the room. I wondered how they had come inside and wandered into the kitchen to search for the wonderfully named bug spray, Doom, only to find hundreds swarming around the ceiling light. My reaction may have involved some cursing, mild screaming, and some jester-like leaping about. There were also bees in my bedroom and wasps in the yard, and evidence of large spiders lurking about (about an inch and a half diameter — two found dead in my home but one killed with a bloodcurdling screech as it ran across the room straight for me in Majete). And of course mosquitos–after all we take antimalarials daily.

I am on my third stove due to some of the frequent power outages, or rather the subsequent surge after the power came back on. In all my previous years in so many employer-provided homes around the world, I had not lost a stove. But here I lost two; they literally went up in smoke. Then in the midst of the dry season I awoke to find my house flooded. A pipe on my water distiller, needed as we of course cannot drink the water, disconnected and water flowed full speed for hours through the night, covering the kitchen floor, making its way through the dining room, down the hall, and seeping into the hall bathroom and each of our bedrooms. And today I find myself once again at the Kwik Fit mechanics next to the Embassy for my second punctured tire from nails in the road.

It’s all just part of living in Malawi, or just part of a certain level of living in the modern world. Sure I may have experienced more insects and electrical issues here than in other places I have lived, but these basically mirror the lives of friends in the US – bust water pipes, malfunctioning appliances, pest control issues, and flats. Malawi is our home.

And we have really settled in. From our glorious garden to the joy of having fresh eggs provided daily by Carmen, Can, Leash, and Lou, our sweet egg-laying chickens (they love being pet!), our home is an unexpected oasis such that I have never experienced before. This jet-setting world traveler is quite happy to spend my weekends idly circumventing the yard, sitting on our konde (screened in porch) listening to bird song and feeling the breeze, or better yet napping in my hammock. On Sundays we hold “chicken run” days, in which we let our birds have free range of the yard for 10-20 minutes. And we have acquired yet another family member! After lunch with friends at the delicious Chinese restaurant at the Golden Peacock Hotel, our daughters excused themselves early to explore and returned with news of something you just have to see! Behind the kitchen doors they had found a cage crammed with rabbits…and that is how Judy the Bunny came to live with us (released to us—and our friends who rescued one too—for 4,000 Malawian Kwacha or about $5.50). A handy friend is building her hutch, while Judy currently enjoys the konde and the bounty of our garden.

We are settling in in other ways. I have rekindled my passion for reading. Well, I never lost my interest in reading, I simply didn’t have the time or energy to do so. Yet over the past six months I have happily devoured at least 30 books. While that may not seem much to some readers please consider my occupation, my parental status, my prolific writing (!), and other hobbies like traveling and dabbling in small-time farming and chicken and rabbit rearing, and then my ability to read is nothing short of a miracle and should probably get me some kind of spot in the Guinness Book of World Records. Am I right?

C (and I) made it through her first year at Bishop Mackenzie International School. Although she had attended preschool in Shanghai, this was full day school including riding the bus. Well, full day for what BMIS calls “lower primary” is only 5 1/2 hours, but with bus times she is gone 6 1/2 hours. For this night owl raising a night owl, it was the early morning hours that posed our greatest challenge. C’s bus picks her up at 6:30 AM!! To make sure we don’t miss the bus I wake up at the crack of dawn, or even before (!), then the nanny arrives at 5:30 to wake C the beast and get her ready for school. On weekends we revel in sleeping in until 7. But as hard as it is for C to drag herself out of bed in the mornings, she loves her school and so do I. And now my sweet, funny, smart six year old just started first grade.

And work. Wow. What a year. I arrived having never before done this particular position and being the only one. Learning on the job is a State Department specialty and it has been a steep, STEEP learning curve. But Malawi, well, what a place to parachute in and figure it all out. Not only is Malawian politics and political culture fascinating (I’ll just leave this here: Bloodsuckers. Google it. Never a dull day in Malawi), but it is also very accessible. I have met a former President and Vice President, the First Lady, the Second Lady, Members of Parliament, political opposition leaders, up and coming leaders, prominent academics, walked right into various government ministries (and not been subsequently thrown out).

C and I were able to travel some around Malawi, the region, and further afield. From Zomba and the lake at Senga Bay and Cape Maclear to Majete National Park. I took C on her first safari when we visited South Luangwa park in western Zambia. Holidays in Paris and Cape Town rounded out our year. I fear this post is beginning to sound a little bit too much like one of those end of year updates people send out in their Christmas cards…

Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the world. Most people probably could not find it on a map, many have never heard of it. But it has been my home for the past year. This first year in Malawi has been an overall a quite happy, though admittedly difficult at times, adventure. C loves it here. She tells me often. I am a fan as well. The big news is we have extended for a third year in Malawi; we like it that much. We look forward to what our second year here has in store for us.

July 23, 2018 by trs

Faces of Malawi: Fruit Sellers

Seventy percent of Malawians live below the international poverty line of $1.90 per person a day. Therefore for the vast majority of the population, life is hard every single day. I do not understand those who say those who are poor are so because they are lazy. Here I meet so many people who work really, really hard yet find themselves just keeping their and their families’ heads above water.

Located in Area 4, close to the center of the oldest part of Lilongwe, is the “Old” Chipiku supermarket. It is called the “old” one to differentiate it from the newer one found in the center of the Old Town. It’s chaotic parking lot is half dirt and half chewed up asphalt. At the far end of the parking lot are a few large trees where the fruit sellers have set up their makeshift selling center. They are not the only fruit sellers in town of course, there are plenty of corners and parking lots where fruit sellers may congregate, but I have found the largest concentration to be at the Old Chipiku.

These are young guys. They range in age from 20 to 32, and most of them have sold fruit the majority of their adult lives, some even starting as children. They work from 6 AM to 6 PM, seven days a week. They have little to no time for hobbies. Most live in either Area 36, the outer part of Lilongwe proper or in Bunda, rural Lilongwe. It costs between 500 and 1000 Malawian Kwacha (MWK) (68 cents to $1.37) one way for them to get from home to work. They live with their mothers, their wives and children, or on their own; none of the wives work. Housing costs range from free to 8000 MWK ($11.00) a month. Each week they clear on average 5000-6000 MWK ($6.85 – $8.22). So although these young men work twelve hour days, 84 hour weeks, they live below the international poverty line. They do not dream big, they just want to live a bit better, have more stability, and regular income.

We talked in English although the majority do not speak it well, just enough to make a sale with English speaking customers. Those who could understand and speak better assisted with Chichewa-English translation.

Steven

Steven is 22 years old. He lives with his mother in rural Lilongwe. One of five children, he has been selling fruit since 12 years of age, for ten whole years. Basically since he left primary school. When asked about his hobbies, he was at first very confused as he doesn’t have much free time with twelve hour days and an hour commute each way. Pressed, he revealed he enjoys playing football (soccer). If he could do anything else for a profession, he would like to be a mechanic.

Leonard

Though he looks older, Leonard is only 21 years old. Not only that but he is married with two children, one six years of age, the other, one. He usually sells papaya, but when it is not in season he works on his mother’s farm; she grows groundnuts (the groundnut production in Malawi happens to be dominated by female-headed households). One of seven children, with three brothers and three sisters, his parents could not afford his school fees, so he only finished two years of secondary school. He also enjoys playing football in his little free time and would also like to be a mechanic.

Willard

Willard is 32 years old, married with two children. He has been selling fruit for 17 years! Willard has a certain aggressive, but charming, method to approaching customers. It must work as among the fruit sellers interviewed, he reported the highest weekly profit – 20,000 MWK ($27.40). In his free time he not only plays football but also makes wood furniture. If he had the money he would like to become a driver and build his own home.

Ishmael

Ishmael is 25 years old and has been selling fruit for 12 years. Originally from Mangochi, he lives in Area 36 with his younger brother. He is still single because, he says, he is just not ready to settle down. He too enjoys playing football, but if he were to have another job, he would like to be a “big businessman,” though the type of business does not really matter to him.

Ibrahim

Also from Mangochi, Ibrahim is 28 years old and has spent the past seven years selling fruit. He was the only Muslim among those interviewed, which matches the approximate 15% of the population who identify as Muslim. He is single and lives alone in Area 36. He only finished primary school, but has dreams of being a mini bus driver.

Saidi

Saidi is 30 years old, married with two children. He is fairly new to fruit selling, having only been doing it for three years. Previously he grew cotton on his own plot in Mangochi. In Malawi, cotton is primarily grown by smallholders in the south of the country, but the industry had not been doing well the past few years. He wishes he could be a freelance mechanic — he wants to take work when available and set his own hours but have better pay. In his free time he plays “draft” or draught, the British word for checkers.

Zachias

Zachias is a 28 year old from Zomba. He only finished primary school. Previously working as a manual laborer, he has only been selling fruit for three years. He is married with three children. They live together in a single small apartment, what they all referred to as “boys quarters,” with one bed for 2,500 MWK ($3.42) a month.

Onesmo

Onesmo is 25 years old and has been selling fruit for five years. He is originally from Zomba, in south-central Malawi. He is married with two children. Like the majority of the fruit sellers he only finished primary school because his parents could no longer afford the school fees. (Although free primary education – through the first eight years – was introduced in Malawi in 1994, but secondary schools charge fees). If he had the chance to do anything else, he would like to be a mechanic. He said he had no hobbies other than praying.

Levy

Levy is 31 years old. He seemed the most serious and educated of the group. Born in Chiradzulu, in the south-west of Malawi, he nearly finished high school when his parents both died in quick succession from an illness he would not name. With four brothers and three sisters, he had to make a living somehow and packed up his bags and came to Lilongwe. That was 11 years ago and he has been selling fruit ever since, now supporting his wife and two children. He would really like to sell a durable good. Selling fruits is inconsistent, they spoil quickly and there is no guarantee each day how much will sell. Cell phones seem like a safe bet for him. In his free time he enjoys playing “draft.”

Francis

*Francis is 31 years old. He is married with two children. Unlike many of the other sellers, he has only been in Lilongwe for three years, and only selling fruit for a year and a half. Previously, he sold hardware but changed to fruit because he makes more. Before Lilongwe, he was one of Malawi’s many smallholder maize farmers. In 2015 periods of drought and then severe flooding led to a sharp decline in maize production. He would also like to be a driver so he could earn more. Since he has a history of steadily moving into better paying jobs, of all the men I interviewed I believe Francis just might get there. Francis is the reason I wanted to do this photo-story series. He is my go-to fruit guy. He always has a smile on my face. The day I went to visit the fruit sellers for photos and interviews, Francis had left early to return to Mulanje to bury his mother.

During the interviews the atmosphere was jovial. These men were eager to share their stories and have their photos taken. They joked and laughed and their spirit was infectious. But later I felt a sense of anger and sadness overcome me. The stories so depressingly similar, the dreams so simple, yet deceptively so as they are, for the most part, unobtainable. My privilege so glaringly obvious as the groceries in the back of my car cost twice their monthly take home. At 2000 MWK a pop, I had spent 16,000 MWK just on eight bottles of flavored water, what they might net over two and a half weeks. And I am very aware that my posts on Malawian life are uncomfortably juxtaposed with my vacation and travel posts–activities so far out of the reach of the average Malawian. These are but some of the faces of Malawi.

March 17, 2018 by trs

Faces of Malawi

Malawi is one of the poorest countries on the planet, so the statistics and indices say. But like many things, a statement like this does not really give you the whole picture. Malawi has a population of over 18 million. That’s a lot of people. But again, it does not give you a true sense of the country. Since arriving in Malawi, I have had the opportunity to meet many people from all walks of life through my job, but also in day to day interactions. I am impressed with the resiliency, kindness, work ethic, and joy that Malawians demonstrate despite some very difficult circumstances. I decided to profile a few of the people I have met. One thing I found interesting is that so many of those living in Lilongwe are not from here, though not uncommon in highly centralized developing countries. Another is the number of single mothers I have had met. Though I feel a connection to them, I know that my single parent path has been far easier than theirs.

Samson

Samson, 50, is a tailor, mostly creating one-of-a-kind fashions from the traditional fabric called Chitenje. Electricity is unreliable in Malawi, so he works quickly but with care using a manual sewing machine. Samson grew up in Machinga district in the Southeast of the country, near Lake Chirwa. He started working as a tailor at 16 years of age. Once he turned 21 he relocated to Lilongwe with his wife and two year son. Twenty-nine years later he and his wife, six children, three boys and three girls, and four grandchildren live in Lilongwe. He loves working as a tailor because its the only work he has ever known and it has provided a good livelihood for him and his family. Besides his family and work, he loves going to church and praying.

Ethel

Ethel, 26, is a single mom of an 18-month old boy. She is one of seven children, the third to the last. Her oldest and youngest siblings passed away. The oldest died of tuberculosis; she is not sure about the youngest, but it was an illness. With the exception of an older brother in South Africa, the rest of her family remains in Malawi. As a child she wanted to become a mechanical engineer, but she only finished primary school. Originally from Blantyre, Malawi’s second city, she moved to Lilongwe in 2013. Soon after arriving in the capital she secured a job at one of the largest and most popular supermarkets. For four years she worked six and a half days a week at the supermarket, earning about US$35 a month after taxes. That is until recently when she was suddenly let go. Right now she dreams of moving to South Africa for work, to improve both her and her son’s life.

Boston

Boston, 32, works as a residential security guard. One of eight children, with three brothers and four sisters, he grew up in a farming family in Nkhotakota, near the shore of Lake Malawi. Unlike most of his family who remain in his home town, where they grow rice, cotton, maize, cassava, sugar cane, and beans, Boston moved to Lilongwe in 2010 to “seek greener pastures.” It was in Lilongwe that he met his future wife, who is from Balaka in the South. Although there is some historical tension between Northerners and Southerners, his family completely embraced her. In July 2017 they were married. He and his wife are in no hurry to expand their family; they currently care for Boston’s 18 year old brother. Boston loves reading, though books are sometimes hard to come by, and plans to do more with his life. For a year he was taking tourism and hospitality courses, but just before he was to sit for his exams the school closed. He is not sure his next steps.

Grace

Grace, 27, works as a massage therapist. She was born in Ntcheu, a central district in Malawi along the Mozambican border, but as a young girl her family moved to Mangochi for her father’s job. At 18 years of age, her parents sent her back to Ntcheu to live with relatives before her arranged marriage. Three months pregnant, her intended told her he was leaving and never wanted to see her again. She returned to Mangochi, giving birth to her son, and made a living selling small traditional foods she prepared, such as banana fritters. In 2009 a friend told her about an advertisement looking for staff to work at a spa. With that job she received massage training. Two years later she lost that job and moved to Lilongwe. There she met her current husband and had her daughter. She has big dreams for expanding her massage therapy business though often something as simple as her daughter landing in the hospital for several days with malaria can wipe out her savings.

Stephen

Stephen, 38, is quiet and unassuming. Born in Thyolo district, in Malawi’s deep south, he does not recall dreaming of being anything when grown up other than a transport driver. He shrugs and shyly explains he only finished his primary school certificate. He moved to Lilongwe to start work as a gardener for an international development partner in 2008. Although he had no formal training as a gardener, he learned on the job, until he could confidently care for vegetable and fruit gardens as well as flowers and decorative plants. He worked for that employer for over eight years until a new person arrived and suddenly let all the staff go. He and his wife Mary, from Nkhata Bay on the upper shores of Lake Malawi, have three children, one girl and two boys, aged 4, 11, and 14. In his free time he most enjoys dancing with his wife to the latest popular music at home or at church.

Thoko

Thoko, 25, works full time as a nanny and housekeeper. Her name, Thokozani, means “thanks” in the Chichewa language. She is also the single mother of a five year old girl. Although born in Lilongwe, she still considers herself from Ntcheu as it is where her father is from and still lives, and where the majority of the Ngoni, her ethnic group, reside. Her parents are divorced and both remarried, though she remains close with both of them. Thus she has one brother, two sisters, two stepsisters, and three stepbrothers. Her mother is a housekeeper for a foreign diplomat and her father continues to farm in Ntcheu, growing tomatoes, cabbage, and Irish potatoes. Thoko has worked as a nanny for seven years, beginning part time while she was still in secondary school, which she finished. She hopes her daughter, Rejoice, will grow up to have a good family and a good job. Thoko is already working hard to improve her and her daughter’s lives. She saves a portion of her salary each month in her own bank account. She recently started growing her own maize and has plans to buy her own land where she will build a house that some day she can gift to her daughter. She loves music and singing, particularly in her church choir.

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Faces of Malawi: LGBTI Refugees

One Year in Malawi

Faces of Malawi: Fruit Sellers

Faces of Malawi