He was a young man from Uganda, probably in his early twenties. I never saw his face or learnt his name. But he was the first person to enter a new safe house, freshly created in Nairobi to accommodate LGBT+ refugees. I had been honoured to be the first donor to contribute, and the money had purchased the first two bare mattresses.
His is a photo I have sadly lost long ago – but one I will never forget. Its mixture of hope and despair, its pathos, its sad commentary upon humanity – linger in my brain. It was about five years ago, and a new community-based organisation in Nairobi was opening a safe house – and because I was their first donor, the manager of the CBO sent me the photo of their first intake – this young man, standing there in the foreground, with his back to the camera.
I studied the photo and wondered about the young man. Was he sad at leaving his family and home and country, possibly forever? Was he relieved to be in a safe house – or was he feeling downcast that his entire life’s aspirations and belongings could be contained within one small hand-held suitcase? Was he optimistic, or lonely and frightened?
I don’t know what happened to him, but I have been honoured to buy a number of similar suitcases in subsequent years to help others embarking on a journey towards resettlement.
But the man remains one of my heroes. These are people who risk everything to seek a better life, away from war and poverty, disaster and oppression, violence and genocide.
On World Refugee Day, the world is challenged to consider the plight of people forced by circumstances to flee their homes and seek asylum elsewhere.
Meanwhile, four of my trans refugee friends and associates in Africa have recently been attacked in separate public attacks, one being permanently disfigured after a machete attack, and another needing medical attention but lacking the money to get medical assistance. In a plea to possibly save this last friend, another refugee pleads to me today: “Please, she needs your help…” While privileged people argue about whether JK Rowling or Richard Dawkins are permitted their free speech to spread anti-trans sentiment, my friends experience the real-life consequences of such bigotry being normalised around the world.
We are the World
One refugee friend notes:
Being a refugee is hard. Being an LGBTQ+ refugee is even harder.
You run from your home country because of hate—because your identity is not accepted, and your life is in danger. You escape with hope for safety, dignity, and peace. But when you arrive in another country, there is no family waiting. No friends. No relatives. Just unfamiliar faces and systems that don’t see you.
In the refugee camp, you face another kind of pain. You are not treated like others because you weren’t born here. And worse—they criminalize who you are.
You are excluded. Discriminated against. Forgotten.
Being a refugee should never mean losing your humanity. Being transgender or queer should never mean losing your right to safety.
We are not asking for much—just to be seen. To be safe. To be treated with dignity.
#WorldRefugeeDay #LGBTQRefugeesExist #TransRightsAreHumanRights #ProtectLGBTQRefugees #WeDeserveSafetyToo Urgent Action Fund-Africa Urgent Action Fund for Feminist Activism International Trans Fund GATE – Global Action for Trans Equality UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency @highlight
Another refugee friend sends greetings:
Today, as the world pauses to honor the strength, courage, and resilience of refugees, I raise my voice not just in remembrance—but in solidarity.
Refugees are not statistics.
We are mothers, fathers, children, dreamers.
We once had homes, communities, and futures—until conflict, disaster, or persecution forced us to flee.
????️???? As an LGBTQ+ refugee in Gorom Refugee Settlement camp in south sudan , I live this reality daily. I fled persecution hoping for safety, but even here, challenges continue. Yet we hold on—to life, to hope, to each other.
This year’s theme, “Solidarity with Refugees,” is a call to action.
It demands more than kind words.
It calls for inclusion, justice, and shared humanity.
???? We need a world where refugees are not just welcomed but empowered. Where we are given access to education, livelihoods, safety, and dignity.
Because refugees are not a burden—we are survivors, peacemakers, and contributors to a better future.
On this World Refugee Day, I choose compassion.
I choose justice.
I choose solidarity.
Let’s build a world where no one is forced to flee—and where those who do are never left behind.
I am a concerned queer individual alerting LGBTQIA2S+ organizations to the existence of Gorom Refugee Camp in South Sudan, which hosts roughly 450 queer and trans refugees and asylum seekers from Uganda, DRC, Rwanda, Burundi, and Ethiopia. Everyday they are persecuted, facing abuse, bigotry, violence, targeted attacks, and isolation for being queer.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) should have facilitated a pathway to a safe haven by no. However, the UNHCR is underfunded due to a reduction in donor funding since Trump assumed office.
South Sudan’s queer refugees require immediate funding for shelter, food, water, personal hygiene supplies, and medical care, as well as vigorous long-term support to account for the failures of the UNHCR under Donald Trump.
It’s time for queer communities making up the imperial core to collectively shift our focus to the ways in which fascist policymaking in the west trickles down to the Global South, with aggressive consequences.
While celebration of queer identity in the West is certainly revolutionary, in 2025 given the political conditions we are in, I urge well-funded queer organizations to reallocate finances from celebrity appearances and parades, to communities such as the queer and trans people of Gorom Refugee Camp, who are starving and persecuted for their identities.
I hope people listen. Doing nothing to address a social evil means you are complicit.
A Global Anthem for the LGBTQ+ Community
To celebrate Pride Month
Across all lands, from shore to shore,
Where silence ruled and hatred tore,
We rose in truth, we broke the chain
Through fear and fire, through loss and pain.
They tried to hush our hearts, our names,
To bury love beneath their shame.
But rainbow souls are not so small,
We rise, we fight, we stand tall.
From cities bright to villages hushed,
Where dreams were jailed and colours crushed,
We carried hope through darkest nights,
Our stories burning bold and bright.
No wall can stop a truth that sings,
No law can bind a heart with wings.
Our scars may speak of battles past,
But still we bloom proud, free and steadfast.
This month, united, side by side,
A fearless, bright, and global tide.
We dance with joy, and tears run free,
Together strong, for all to see.
Yet even now, the fight’s not done,
For many still must dodge the sun.
So hear our call, world far and near:
Let every voice be safe and clear.
No more the chains of hate or fear,
No more the closet or the sneer.
Let love be love in every land,
With justice firm and allies grand.
To every soul who dares to dream,
You’re part of this unbroken stream.
So rise with us, and march in pride
With borders gone, and none denied.
I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared.
“We feel abandoned—by systems meant to protect us and by a world that doesn’t seem to see our suffering.”
As of Monday 26 May 2025, hundreds of LGBT+ refugees have been abandoned by the government of South Sudan, a nation that criminalises LGBT sexuality and identity. These desperate people need OUR help. They have been waiting for months for refugee documentation and status, and it is time for them to get assistance instead of living in limbo.
(Remembering LGBT+ refugees in Africa, whose voice is often ignored)
We Are Desperately Calling for Support and Protection
We are LGBTQ+ refugees trapped in Gorom Refugee Settlement in South Sudan. Many of us fled violence and persecution in Kakuma Refugee Camp, in Kenya, where we were threatened with arrest, denied legal protection, and exposed to constant danger. In desperation, we crossed into South Sudan—a country still in conflict—hoping UNHCR would offer us the safety and protection we were denied in Kenya.
We were interviewed for resettlement, and at one point, the U.S. had offered us hope through available resettlement slots. But that hope disappeared when the Trump administration suspended the refugee program. Since then, we have been left in Gorom, exposed to daily violence, discrimination, and exclusion.
Recently, the South Sudanese government ordered all LGBTQ+ refugees to leave Gorom for urban areas without legal documents or any support—leaving us more vulnerable than ever. UNHCR South Sudan has told us to follow government directives, but they have no safety measures in place, no resettlement options available, and no clear answers about our future.
We are at risk. We are scared. We feel abandoned.
We are calling on everyone who sees this: please speak out. Contact your government. Ask them to:
1. Pressure UNHCR to do its job and protect LGBTQ+ refugees in South Sudan.
2. Provide emergency resettlement slots for the most vulnerable among us.
3. Ensure no refugee is forced to choose between danger and invisibility.
Share this message. Raise your voice. Help us survive.
This heartfelt plea comes from one of my friends currently in South Sudan. This week, hundreds of LGBT+ refugee were evicted from Gorom Refugee Camp, under threat of police and community violence. They now huddle homeless on the streets of Juba, vulnerable in the capital city of a nation that criminalises LGBT+ sexuality and identity. They seek food and shelter and – more pressingly – transport to a neighbouring country for asylum and refugee processing.
“South Sudan boasts rich cultural diversity, with over 60 indigenous ethnic groups and 80 different languages spoken. The country’s cultural tapestry is woven from a wide range of traditions, customs, and languages, reflecting its complex and varied history…
… Traditional clothing styles in South Sudan vary greatly among the various ethnic groups, showcasing their unique heritage and identity. These attire are not merely a fashion statement but hold deep cultural significance.”
The history of the Azande people of South Sudan (and other nations across Central Africa) include known examples of same-sex relationships between young people. Male homosexuality is acknowledged as part of their indigenous history:
The topic of homosexuality in Azande culture has been regularly addressed, especially in the context of the unmarried warriors, who, during the several years spent living apart from women, had homosexual relations with the boys who were apprentice warriors. These practices, however, were not necessarily maintained as a lifelong pattern of sexual orientation. Generally, after their experiences with so-called “boy-wives,” the warriors entered into heterosexual marriages.
Vongara daughters enjoyed substantial personal freedom and independence from male control, hence their frequent association with adultery, lesbianism, etc”
In May 2024, UNESCO celebrated elect portion of the country’s cultural diversity in an attempt to heal division and violence:
With the help of UNESCO, 40 cultural groups from across the country gathered for two days in the capital Juba to celebrate the first ever cultural week under the theme: “Our culture, our identity, our diversity for social cohesion, unity and peace in South Sudan”.
The Past Creates Its Own Future:
Despite a long history of queer friendly cultures, South Sudan’s political attitudes towards LGBT+ people are deeply rooted in the ignorance of past colonial times and inherited archaic Christian bigotry. The nation’s current problems were largely birthed in Anglo-Egyptian rule between 1899 and 1956, as part of a longer history of oppression and conquest.
South Sudan is one of 67 countries that criminalizes homosexuality, 11 of them with the death penalty. LGBTQ advocates say even where such laws are not applied, they contribute to a climate of harassment, discrimination and violence.
Gorom Refugee Settlement, a small camp outside Juba, was supposed to be our last refuge. But even here, danger follows us. In December 2024, the camp was attacked by members of the host community. LGBTQIA+ refugees were specifically targeted — tents were slashed, people beaten and robbed. When police arrived, they arrested us — including two gay men who were only released after bribes were paid. None of the attackers were punished.
Another report confirms ongoing problems in the camp:
In early April the South Sudanese authorities wanted to kick all the LGBTQ refugees out the camp, and at the time the UNHCR managed to stop this from taking place. Now, however, refugees in the camp report that the new policy is back in place. LGBTQ refugees tells us that the UNHCR has asked the refugees to move to Juba in a few days.
According to these refugees the UNHCR has told them refugees that the agency will provide them with support in Juba. However, the refugees have been told by the South Sudanese not to stay together in one place, and they have not been offered transportation or new homes. Given that they are very poor, this is a recipe for disaster.
One of my LGBT+ friends currently in South Sudan, sent me an urgent appeal for help:
Dear Geoff,
I’m writing to you with a heart weighed down by pain, fear, and exhaustion. As you already know, our journey from Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya was one of survival. We were forced to flee because the Kenyan government, through the camp management, threatened us with imprisonment, stripped us of legal protection, and exposed us to violent attacks. Faced with no choice, we took the unimaginable risk of crossing into South Sudan—a country torn by conflict—in desperate hope of finding safety under UNHCR South Sudan’s protection.
At first, we had hope. We were supported by UNHCR South Sudan and even underwent resettlement interviews. We believed we would be resettled to the United States, which had offered refugee protection for vulnerable groups like ours. But when the Trump administration suspended the refugee program, our chance at safety was crushed. Since then, we’ve been trapped in Gorom Refugee Settlement—unprotected, unheard, and constantly at risk.
We have endured beatings, threats, sexual violence, and unbearable isolation. But the most recent blow came when the South Sudanese government, through the Commissioner for Refugee Affairs, ordered all LGBTQ refugees to leave Gorom and relocate to urban areas, without any legal documentation, support, or protection. We are trans refugees. We are visible and extremely vulnerable. This order is a death sentence.
When we pleaded with UNHCR South Sudan for protection, they told us to follow government directives—even when those directives compromise our lives. They said they can not offer us protection in Gorom and have no resettlement slots available. Yet they are also unable to tell us when any future opportunities might come. How do we survive in the meantime?
We feel abandoned—by systems meant to protect us and by a world that doesn’t seem to see our suffering.
Geoff, we are calling on you not just as an ally but as a voice that can reach places we cannot. Please raise your voice and ask your government to:
1. Urge UNHCR South Sudan to fulfill its protection mandate, especially for LGBTQ refugees who face targeted risks.
2. Provide emergency resettlement slots for the most at-risk LGBTQ refugees in South Sudan.
3. Hold UNHCR accountable for the safety and rights of all refugees, including us.
We are not asking for favors—we are asking for our right to live, to be protected, and to be treated with dignity. Please help make our voices heard before it is too late.
In hope and solidarity,
Another friend tells me:
Greetings dear,I hope you doing well.
I would like to inform you that Government of outh Sudan has decided to evict us from Gorom camp. They gave only ten days to organize and go to stay in the town. We tried to raise the matter to UNHCR to the highest level in Geneva, but they are all silent. Our time in Gorom is about to run out.
As I am experienced with similar incident in Kakuma.
We don’t have to wait for police brutalities and torture.
We don’t have to wait for police lorries to come to take us to prison,
We don’t have to wait for court since being LGBTQIA in South Sudan is one of the toughest countries criminalizing that status.
We are in perilous situation.
People are leaving one by one mostly those who have means to rent in the town.
I am now requesting you to stand with me and support.
I may need to go and get house as others and be away from the incident which would take place on that day.
Kindly consider helping please
Appreciated
Our moral imperative
If you want to consider whether hell actually exists, South Sudan is a good candidate. And the measure of how we respond – as individuals, human rights activists, members of LGBT+ or other minority communities, as constituents demanding humanitarian action from our national governments or international agencies – is a mark of how we might aspire towards (or fail to reach) civilisation.
We need to act immediately to save lives.
What Can You Do?
Appeal to Australia to intervene on the international stage on behalf of these refugees. They need shelter and food, safety, and urgent processing of their documentation as refugees.
Contact Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong and ask the Australian government to use its influence to intervene and assist.
Contact your local LGBT+ community groups, community churches or secular organisations, human rights groups, aid groups, refugee advocacy groups… anyone you can think of… and appeal for their immediate action.
Contact the UNHCR in Australia or internationallyand ask for their intervention. Remember that the UNHCR in South Sudan isIf the Australian office tell you that they are only an information service, ask them for information on how to contact Geneva or South Sudan directly. working under difficulty, so be respectful and polite.
DONATE MONEY to assist these refugee to find transport, shelter, food and safety. You might like to contact the UNHCR in Geneva and offer a donation to go directly to the refugees. Alternatively, you can contact me (send me an email via the email facility below and I will respond) and any donations will be directly and immediately forwarded to refugees.
What sort of world do we want to create? What sort of people does our collective conscience want us to be?
“When you are doing something that is right, you just do it and take care … Someone has to do this.” – Alice Nkom.
Bibliography:
“Grim Perspectives for the Protection of LGBTI Communities in South Sudan”, International Law Blog, 9 December 2021.
Lorna Dias and Melody Njuki, “US hate groups fuel anti-LGBTQ rights movement in Africa”. , Washington Blade, 23 May 2025.
Abraham Junior, “We Exist, We Resist, We Are Not Invisible: Queer, Atheist, and Humanist Refugees in South Sudan”,The Humanist, 28 May 2025.
Matthew LeRiche, Matthew Arnold. South Sudan from revolution to independence. 2012. Ethnic Groups and Flashpoints. p. xv. Columbia University Press. New York. ISBN 978-0-231-70414-4
SEmeka Onwubuemeli, “Early Zande History”, Sudan Notes and Records, Vol. 53, University of Khartoum, 1972, p. 47.
Shaan Roy, “South Sudan’s Cultural Diversity: Exploring Ethnic Groups And Indigenous Languages”, AfroDiscovery, 15 March 2024.
I show my respect for Elders past and present and acknowledge the Wurundjeri-Willam people, the Traditional Custodians of the Land on which this blog was prepared.
