I’m called Sara, a 30-year-old Ugandan lesbian woman with two children.
My son Efrema is aged 5. My daughter is Ciara, six years old. We arrived here in Kakuma in 2021.
My life after primary.
I was born in western Uganda, and my life started badly. Denied education after primary five, I was made to leave school and go to Kampala to work as a maid. I did house duties in an unknown compound, not knowing where it was or its location in Kampala.
The compound was home to six lesbians, all between the ages of 20 and 40. I worked there for almost 15 years, during which they played sexual acts with me several times. They eventually migrated to another place, which ended my time there.
I started a small business and was forced into marriage.
On returning to my village, I used the small amount of savings to start a milk-selling business in Mbarara. Cattle keeping is the major activity carried out. There. I bought milk from farmers and distributed it to customers within the nearby centre for a profit. I also dated a few of my customers and won the hearts of a few.
Rumour started circulating about how I’m a lesbian. It forced me into marriage so that people (especially my family) could reunite with me. I gave birth to two children in a neighbouring village. My husband was a highway taxi driver (Mbarara to Kampala). Occasionally, he took me to a ceremony in the Equatorial Hotel in Kampala. As time passed, and with the urge to love the same sex that I’ve been happy with, I started cheating on my husband with a fellow woman (neighbour). Often, my husband spent days away due to his job.
Caught, and sent packing to my parents.
Mbarara is 11 hour’s drive to Kampala, and one night, my husband returned home early and caught me and my neighbour lover having sex. I was beaten that night, but the woman was unharmed. Neighbours came, but all were critical of my behaviour. They said I would rather be caught with a male.
Early in the morning, my husband packed me, our children and our luggage into a vehicle and took us to my parents in the village. They refused and deserted me, as did everyone else. My husband told everyone along the routes he worked, so that wherever I went, I would be known as a divorced lesbian woman.
How I ended up here in Kakuma
I sold all my belongings in the city and left empty-handed. I used the money as a transport fee and crossed to Kenya. The Kenya Red Cross received me and eventually brought me to this camp.
Life in the camp has been very tough since day one. Denial of having a male boyfriend brings hate and discrimination for us who are lesbians. Attacks, insufficient food, and no income-generating activities allowed by other camp residents all add up to a miserable existence. My children indeed deserve better.
Thank you for reading my story.
