We live a miserable and toxic existence, collectively and individually.
Please read this.
We are stuck in a soulless limbo, each day nothing more than a mere existence. The food rations we are given barely keep us alive. Our mental health and optimism are a struggle to maintain. We are very conscious that our physical health and mental abilities will continue to decline unless we initiate steps to change our situation for the better.
In this and the related articles, we share with you the reality of existing in this forsaken place from our own perspective. It is based on fact and reality impacting all LGBTQ+ people here in camp. What we describe on this website is nothing close to the claims and rhetoric promoted by the UNHCR (United Nations High Commission for Refugees.) We’re not making this up. Check out what Amnesty International has recently reported: https://www.amnesty.org.uk/press-releases/kenya-lgbti-refugees-risk-rape-and-violence-kakuma-refugee-camp-new-report
The camp surrounds the town of Kakuma. Read the short article here: Kakuma Town, northwest Kenya
Kakuma refugee Camp is under the ‘protection’ of The United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). The Kenyan Government decides if and when asylum seekers can become refugees, and dictates various aspects of camp life.
The Camp layout
The camp has four areas; each numbered between Kakuma 1 and Kakuma 4. Each has areas classed as units, and each unit may have separately numbered blocks, which means something entirely different to a building block of flats!
Ours is Kakuma 2, Unit 1, Block 12.
Read our article – Our shelters and living conditions
Quality of life existing in camp
The crucial aspect of being in this camp is we live a miserable and toxic existence. Most of us have nothing of material worth and no income. Asylum Seekers are forbidden to work by the Kenyan government and are reliant on handouts, including food rations. We are fed grains and pulses, nothing more. That means we are always hungry because the food is never enough, and seldom varied.
Read our article: Food Rations, Diet, Cooking and Hunger
Impact on our self-confidence, hope and dignity
Should we be thankful for small mercies like all refugees and asylum seekers in this camp, and maybe others?
Perhaps we would be if we were accepted and treated as equal to others. But we are not. The toxic and blatant homophobia embedded throughout all areas of the camp means our freedom within the camp is not equal to other camp residents.
The limits imposed upon us, and what seems like enforced incarceration motivate us to demand equality, liberty and protection by the UNHCR, or to move us to somewhere safer.
Our demands, as nicely as we ask, fall on deaf ears. The UNHCR would prefer we kept a low profile, accept we are lesser people, and not demonstrate or complain for our human rights within the camp to be upheld.
We’re LGBT. Not by choice, but from the way nature created what is innate about us. Pride, as in being as human and equal as any other human means pride is not negotiable.
Mental anguish and depression
Our individual stories tell of the lives and freedoms now lost, the people we loved, and the status we once valued—events leading up to our escape from murderous intent are memories we either cling to or horrors we’d rather forget.
We are here because we escaped persecution and potential death. We have nowhere else to go and cannot leave anyway. Here in Kakuma, we feel oppressed, controlled and intimidated into complying with other’s expectations. Resisting such feelings can become exhausting, hence our motivation to at least make our lives here a little more bearable. Until we achieve that, we don’t have a meaningful life beyond the common bonds we have formed and the equal aspects of existence with the larger group of LGBTQ+ refugees based in Kakuma 3.
Read our stories here: Our Profiles
Our health
Some within our group have lost all hope. Depression, hopelessness, hunger and illness are the reasons why we live a miserable and toxic existence
We have one member of the group who seriously needs medical therapy. Her mental state directly results from the harsh and sexual abuse bestowed upon her young and innocent life. Sadly, like many medical needs, it is not forthcoming when requested. She is cared for and supported the best we can within the group and by the kindness of our colleague Sara.
Others put on a brave face, hiding their anguish and thoughts of just giving up. As a group, we strive to support each other, to keep alive the threads of hope for a future beyond this lie of sanctuary.
We are all prone to infections or illness. We try hard to stay clean and maintain the standards we applied before coming here. Daily challenges include Malaria, other biting insects and creatures, infections caused by inadequate sanitary facilities, dire toilet arrangements, and contagions from our living conditions.
Medical needs
Medication or medical help isn’t always accessible, even when we beg for it. Attending a clinic within the camp becomes a worrying event because other camp residents behave in a toxic and threatening way towards us. Private medical attention is expensive and beyond our reach unless someone outside of Kenya funds the cost.
We have many examples where one of us has fallen ill, or been injured in an attack, and been fobbed off or sent away without proper diagnosis and treatment.
The weather in this remote part of West Kenya can also affect our health. Turkana County is usually hot and dry. But that can change without warning. Read here what we say about coping with it: Coping with Kakuma Weather
Hospitals and clinics
The UNHCR claim our medical needs are well-catered for. In theory, they should be:
Clinic 1, the main hospital, is located in Kakuma 1. 1.5 kilometres from our shelters.
Clinic 5, is a walk-in clinic, located in Kakuma 2. 800 metres from our shelters.
(Run by Africa Inland Church missionary.)
Clinic 6, is a walk-in clinic, located in Kakuma 3. 500 metres from our shelters.
Clinic 7, a second main hospital, is located in Kakuma 4. 500 meters from our shelters.
The process, unless urgent, is we access a walk-in clinic first. If necessary, they refer us to the hospital (clinic 7,) and from there, more serious cases are sent to the main hospital (clinic 1).
After clinic 1, a patient may be referred to Kakuma Mission Private Hospital. A patient treated at this hospital should, in theory, have their medical bills paid by UNHCR. That happens on rare occasions, maybe only when someone has already been mandated for settlement in a third country.
Except for Clinic 5, all clinics are staffed by IRC (International Rescue Committee).
Accessing health care
But this is Africa, and in Kenya, like many other parts of this continent, homophobia is rife, promoted and enforced through misinformation and elaborated mythical lies in pursuit of political agendas, rather than meeting human rights commitments.
And so we are judged and treated accordingly, which means we do not get the attention we need until we can afford to go private, or it becomes so urgent it has to receive attention. Even then, who funds the cost can be another worry to contend with.
The seven children in our group are far from being as healthy as they could be. Who is there to care besides their respective mum, and ourselves? When we seek and need medical help or medication for an ailment, requests are often denied or ignored by those claiming a protective and caring responsibility towards the camp’s LGBTQ+ community and their families. Read about the children’s health here:
Our contact with the outside world
A few of us have mobile phones, which are rather ancient, cantankerous and reliant on intermittent WiFi signals. They are our only contact with the outside world. A ‘nothing to nobody’ mindset often springs to our mind because, in general, few people know we are here or care about the draining and soul-destroying challenges we face.
We don’t have electricity. We use a second-hand donated solar system to give us light in the evening and to charge our phone batteries. If there’s no sun, we sit in the dark and connect with no one.
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Income and self-funding
We have no income, and the Kenyan government do not allow asylum seekers and refugees to work. The minority who were allowed to set up retail outlets, or who are employed but paid in kind, like food and other commodities, are an exception.
We would love to be self-sufficient, to create and earn meaning to our existence. Attempts to do so are quickly squashed and destroyed by other refugees. In most cases, a person needs funds to start even a small business or funding venture.
A miserable and soulless existence
We have the motivation to change that into something more positive. We are cursed at every attempt and do not have the resources to fund any way forward. The articles and profiles we share on this website aim to tell the world what it is really like for LGBTQ+ people here in Kakuma Refugee Camp.
If we can achieve a wider audience to read what we have to say, we’ll potentially reach more people who can give us a little of their time, relate to our stories, and consider helping us make our existence here a little more comfortable. Please view our Help Us page.
Attacks, violence and intimidation
Fanatical homophobic and transphobic behaviour plagues our daily existence. We endure verbal abuse, physical attacks, and violent intimidation whenever we venture beyond our shelters. Other camp residents obstruct or deny services and facilities to which we are entitled.
By the nature of our sexuality or gender identity, we are collectively and individually hated and despised throughout the camp.
Care, protection and equality
The staff in Kakuma Camp medical centres are often reluctant to treat us. We cannot rely on getting proper and equal attention; other residents attending will be abusive and intimidating. The UNHCR protection officers employ a two-month delay system and do not respond to urgent requests. The local police and other security guards, responsible for camp security and keeping law and order, are unfriendly, uncooperative and dismissive.
The UNHCR claim they recognise our human rights and equality. But their claim doesn’t match the reality in camp or what we directly experience.
Please read all the articles from here:
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