BY KELLY COGSWELL | Ghana may be one of Africa’s more democratic countries, but not for queers. Thanks in part to anti-gay campaigns encouraged — and financed — across West Africa by US evangelicals, 98 percent of people in Ghana believe that homosexuality is “morally unacceptable.” Politicians openly denounce lesbians and gay men as foreigners and abominations. They blame us for AIDS, even demand that we be rounded up and jailed, not just under colonial-era laws prohibiting “unnatural acts” but anything they can think of, even through genocide. In 2010, more than 1,000 protesters in the Western Region of Takoradi rallied against our mere existence.
Violence has been escalating, especially against gay men. Just a week or so ago in the capital city of Accra, event promoter Kinto Rothmans was ambushed by a mob, forced to admit he was gay, and brutally beaten. The video posted by a proud attacker immediately went viral. A few days before, a crowd of boys at St. Paul’s Senior High School in the small town of Danu tried to lynch two classmates accused of being gay. When two teachers tried to interfere, the boys rioted. The cops were called in and ended up fatally shooting a student.
Last year, Richard, now only 20, was forced to flee the country after a lifetime of harassment and abuse. In middle school, after telling his best friend he had a crush on him, Richard was flogged several times, then expelled. Back home, the village chief issued another round of punishments.
“I was detained for about five days during which I wasn’t fed. I was only given water every morning,” he told me. “I was also sent to a shrine where I was made to drink a calabash of blood. Then I was beaten, and they broke my right arm. Afterwards, I was banished from my hometown. It was around my last year in middle school so I had to study on my own in order to take the final exams to get into high school.”
He briefly lived with relatives in Accra before he ended up at St. Paul’s and can testify first hand to the anti-gay brutality there.
“I was seen with another guy by the school prefect who reported us to the head master,” Richard said. “We were called to the front of the entire student body and asked to tell the whole school what the prefect saw us doing.”
Afterwards, they were beaten by several male teachers, then dragged on their knees to the school offices, and later humiliated again at another school assembly in which they were officially expelled.
When he got home, he was harangued by his aunts and uncles who eventually threatened to lynch him if they saw him talking to a boy.
“They claimed I’d pollute them, and talk them into being gay,” he said.
Richard’s parents sent him to a different town up north, but it wasn’t enough. His boyfriend from high school came to visit and they were seen in a local bar. A couple of days later, when he was shopping with a cousin, he was attacked by a pair of youths, two vigilante “zongo boys” that administer “instant justice” to anybody from queers to thieves.
One guy pinned his hands behind his back, the other started punching him in his stomach.
“I struggled with them, but I couldn’t do anything because they were stronger than I was,” Richard said.
His cousin called the police who dragged all four of them to the station and detained them for 24 hours. During his stay, he passed out and had to be rushed to the hospital with internal bleeding.
In the end, the cops let his attackers go and charged him with being a homosexual. His family helped him flee again, but when the death threats continued anyway from local youths who threatened to lynch him on sight, his mother decided he had to leave Ghana before he ended up dead. She’s a nurse and worked with his two stepbrothers to get the money together.
Richard’s in Texas now, studying to be an EMT and working in the cafeteria when he can pick up the hours. The group Human Rights First is helping him to get a permanent visa. He says he tries not to think too much about why he came, or how alone he is. He just wants a normal life. Maybe he’ll get it. We video-chatted on Skype. I could see he’s young and good-looking, though he seemed shell-shocked. His voice was nearly flat as he told me that it hurt to imagine he might never be able to go home. Or see his family again.
“I tell myself at least no one is coming to kill me,” Richard said. “Or beat me up because I am gay.”
There’s not much reason to hope things will change anytime soon. When Ghana’s President John Dramani Mahama visited the US not long ago, he was asked about homophobia in his country.
“All he could say was that because of the culture there wasn’t even room to talk about it,” Richard recalled. “So he couldn’t even make a comment about it. It makes me so sad. All that is going on back there and nobody is doing anything about it.”
Still, when I asked about his hometown where most people are farmers or fishermen or traders, he wistfully told me, “It’s really cool, more of a village, really, where almost everybody knows everybody. It’s a friendly place to grow up.”
Kelly Cogswell is the author of “Eating Fire: My Life as a Lesbian Avenger,” published last year by the University of Minnesota Press.