THAT SPOT on the road

Recent pulse blogs have made me decide to write about an experience I had on New Year’s Eve 2010. I was the victim of a gay-bashing, this is the story:

It was a big party, a beach club, the ocean, bon fires, lots of people, good music and a lot of alcohol. The tiger reef beach bar usually has one of the biggest New Year’s parties in Namibia every year, and this is where we were celebrating the transition into 2010.

I had come to Namibia for the summer holidays; the last time I had been home was 6 month prior, to come out to my parents: a very emotional, but fruitful visit. What it really means to be gay is not really clear to anyone here. All they know is the well known stereotype we all see portrayed in the media. So it was really hard for me to go deep into my heart and explain everything to them from the start. At this part I also need to add that I grew up in boarding school from the age of 8, so I was living away from my parents for most of my life. We had a lot of catching up to do, and it was very painful, but unbelievably worth it. So now, the next time home, everything is still very fresh and fragile, and the events of that night shook my parents to the core.

So back at the party, it was about 3am January 1^st 2010. I was leaving, and just outside the club I was stopped by a guy who started making fun of me in front of all of his friends and everybody else that was outside. After pushing me around he grabbed my wrists and pulled me close to him and said, ‘come on, kiss me, kiss me’. All this time I kept on telling him to leave me alone and trying to free myself to get away. But it was not enough; the next thing I remember is that I’m being punched in the face so hard that it throws me over a balustrade and into the beach sand, and then the guy over me punching me in the face again and again. This is all a blur, but one thing remains very clear in my head, and that is that I shouted at him, ‘hit me all you want, I’ll still be gay!’

The next thing I know is that I was walking away, full of sand and a throbbing face, and I saw a security guard. I walked up to him, asking him why he didn’t help me. The only reply I got was a soft ‘you deserved it’ and he walked away. I started shouting at everyone that was looking at me ‘what the f*ck are you looking at’ and almost pissed off some more guys.

On my way home I was so drunk, and sore, and angry and confused that I couldn’t find my way home, I tried to ask some people for directions, but I must have looked terrible, with a swollen face, and sand everywhere, sobbing and reeking of alcohol, so nobody actually helped me.

In the beating I had lost my cell phone, and my house keys.

At this point all kinds of things were going through my head. One thing I remember is that I wanted to sit down in the middle of the road and wait for the next car to come by and kill me. I was in a very dark place in that moment; I sat down on the curb, and looked at the spot on the road where I was going to sit for the car to hit me. My vision blurred by the sand and tears and my eye was slowly starting to swell up. That moment playing in my head where two headlights would rush at me and release me from it all.

I somehow managed to get home, rang the bell and stumbled into the house. And I just remember my mom running around being upset about what happened and my dad saying things out loud, and me shouting at them that nobody wanted to help me, ‘everybody was just watching!’.

I showered and went to bed, and told my mom I never wanted to come back to Namibia. I was shaking with sobs and swore I would never, ever, come back.

Its 2011, just over a year later and I’m back. I had to move away from Cape Town and in January I came back to Namibia to work here. It was a result of circumstance and I had little power over the events that led to me being back in the country I swore never to visit again. But I’m here now and I had some serious obstacles to conquer in my head. I was paranoid. Coming from Cape Town, which had taught me what it felt like to be true to who I was, feel free and happy . . . understood, I was frightened about what it would be like back here.

In my head everyone here was a homophobe. In this city, everybody knows everybody, and everybody’s business is everybody’s business. So I immediately thought they were all going to talk bad about me, the faggot, the homo, the queer. I shoved everyone into the same box.

Now, 2 months down the line, my head is starting to become clearer. I was unfair towards everyone by making the decision for them, that they would not understand, not be open-minded about it. I excused this with the fact that I wouldn’t take the risk, because of what happened to me the year before. I said I wouldn’t put myself in the situation where somebody COULD make the choice to treat me like the guy at the New Year’s party. Yes a lot of people here probably do have a lot to learn about homosexuality but there are lots of them out there that will understand. And why should I let fear keep me from meeting them, why should I let fear keep me from feeling free, doing what I like and being the way I am.

I am not going to change who I am, “hit me all you want, I’ll still be gay”, and in some places it’s harder to be able to express yourself, than in others. And I keep on asking myself the question if it wouldn’t be easier to just keep it low, be like everyone else and fade. But who am I kidding here, that’s not the answer, it does not work. So im going to be honest. Im going to be strong. And im going to be happy. “Hit me all you want, I’ll still be HAPPY!”

Quoting Lady Gaga’s new song “Born This Way“:

Don’t be drag, just be a queen
Whether you’re broke or evergreen
You’re black, white, beige, chola descent
You’re lebanese, you’re orient
Whether life’s disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
‘Cause baby, you were born this way

No matter gay, straight or bi
lesbian, transgendered life
I’m on the right track, baby
I was born to survive
No matter black, white or beige
chola or orient made
I’m on the right track, baby
I was born to be brave

I’m beautiful in my way
‘Cause God makes no mistakes
I’m on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Tagged as: born this way, homophobia