Anyone who organises a meeting of gay men in Nigeria risks ten years in prison. John, who is gay himself, nevertheless works in HIV prevention. Holger Wicht met the 26-year-old at the International Aids Conference in Melbourne
John from Nigeria is gay and works in HIV prevention.John, you work for an organisation that is not allowed to exist under Nigerian law, the International Centre for the Defence of the Right to Health. This interview is not without danger for you. Are you really comfortable giving an interview about your work?
Yes, I would like to talk to you. Although I am always afraid to reveal my name and other information. Working as an openly gay man in Nigeria is extremely risky. There is now a law that criminalises unions and meetings of men who have sex with men. And the government is also attacking people who seek support in protecting themselves from HIV.
How does this law affect everyday life?
People fear for their lives. As a social worker, you can't organise a meeting for young, older or HIV-positive gays - you can get ten years in prison for that. Just because people demand their right to health, want to protect themselves and their wives from HIV! It hurts when such people are imprisoned, and we hope it doesn't come to that.
Your wives?
Yes, some are married heterosexually for cultural reasons.
Have you ever been arrested?
No. But as a social worker, you have to be very careful now. Many people are afraid to come to work. We are not insured in our jobs. Nobody pays for me if I have to flee from attackers or have an accident on the street. That's why we demand that organisations working in countries like Nigeria take out life insurance or something similar for their employees.
Is there such a thing as a gay community despite these laws?
Sure. After all, the LGBT organisation I work for also exists. I had experiences with people from my village even before I had seen any Nigerian airport - I was still ignorant back then. There are gay men everywhere, even in the desert. But we have to meet in private, in anonymous places. Because if you come out, you'll be locked up.
What does this policy mean for HIV prevention?
Nigeria has the second highest HIV rate in the world. In two or three years, we will move into first place if we continue like this. This is because the most severely affected people - who account for 40 per cent of HIV infections - shy away from medical treatment because of the threat.
Does that mean that before the law was passed, gay men took HIV medication - and now they don't?
Yes, the proportion of people picking up HIV medication is falling because they don't want to risk ten years in prison for a packet of tablets. They try to hide and disguise themselves and survive in other ways. Some say they would rather die than be arrested. One friend said to me: "HIV is not a death sentence, but because of this law it is, because I don't have access to treatment."
Does the government monitor the treatment centres?
If the doctor finds out that you are gay, he has to report it because, according to this law, you are not allowed to cover up for or support a gay man. Anyone who does so anyway is liable to prosecution.
How can gay men be provided with information and HIV medication despite these circumstances?
In any case, nobody must realise. You have to use code words and first find out from other gay men whether someone is gay. It has become more difficult to approach men because you have to worry more about safety issues and look after yourself. But we're not losing hope. We are not giving up!
What do you tell people when you reach them?
We try to guide and advise those affected when they report problems, complaints and harassment. People need to understand and value themselves so that they can find alternatives on how to cope in life. We try to make them aware of their basic rights as stated in the 1999 Constitution of the Republic of Nigeria. But we have few resources and less and less money. And those who violate our rights know that we as gays cannot denounce them.
Do you also get in touch with the government to make a difference?
We are trying to do that. We want the government to recognise care for all as an opportunity - regardless of who someone loves or what they look like. We work with press releases, although we don't know if that gets through to them. Sometimes we publish articles in newspapers and they find out about it. But that's expensive, of course.
You can't go directly to the government ...
No. Telling them it's about gay men is too dangerous. They don't understand that we are doing our part in the national response to HIV to save lives and protect people. So the situation is getting more and more dangerous for everyone!
You probably experience this very directly in your own circle of friends, don't you?
One of my friends didn't know about his HIV infection. He wanted to hide his sexual orientation because there was pressure everywhere. His girlfriend got infected, and as far as we know, this girl had several lovers - imagine this chain of infection! If you protect just one man who has sex with men, you protect many more people.
Do you know how many gay men in Nigeria are HIV-positive?
Actually, I shouldn't be quoting such figures. HIV prevalence in the country is around 17 per cent.
People don't talk about the fact that many gay men are HIV-positive?
Ideally, we should be able to talk about it openly. But we don't want to add to our marginalisation. Gay men are afraid, and many are also without a job, have no home or nothing to eat. In such life-threatening circumstances, you don't want to talk about your HIV status. Even in the LGBT community, it's hidden, even though we're among friends there.
Do you talk about your HIV status?
I work for HIV-positive people, go for regular HIV tests, look after my health and try not to get any health problems. My health is a private matter for me, I don't prioritise my own concerns. I want to stay negative, but if I get infected one day, it won't be an issue.
Do you actually get paid for your work?
No, we basically work on a voluntary basis. We receive a small salary, but if you mean a salary that we would be entitled to given the current situation in this field, we couldn't be paid enough.
What is your personal situation?
As an openly gay man, I had to flee my village to a neighbourhood where I can't really afford to live. But I have to manage somehow because I need to live in a reasonably safe environment. I was recently attacked at midnight in an incident in a village: 14 people were taken out of their homes, brutally attacked with weapons, and some of us were arrested and taken to a police station. And instead of protecting the victims, the police punished them and let their attackers go. You don't want to experience something like that again.
What do young gays and lesbians in Nigeria experience in their families?
I always see the progress that countries like Australia have made. Here, people are more concerned with personal development as a human being. Homosexuality is not an obstacle to this. In Nigeria, if a girl in the family is identified as a lesbian before she finishes school, she loses the support of her family. She can no longer become an eye surgeon or join the military. This reduces the skilled labour force, the labour force and the strength of the people in the country. People need to think about homophobia.
What specific changes would you like to see in your country?
If my village, my culture or my community tries to kill me because I am gay, a law should protect me as a human being. It is striking that the government signed the homophobic law because they want to distance themselves from Western culture. But it is not homosexuality that is un-African, it is homophobia, because homosexuals have existed in Africa for thousands of years.
Have you ever thought about leaving Nigeria?
I don't want to leave here. This is my country. According to its constitution, all people are equal, we should all have the same opportunities. I don't want to be a refugee, I want to be a full citizen in my own country. Some people leave, others stay. If that's the only way I can save my life at some point, I'll leave too. But I don't want to.
