It is a sleepy Tuesday evening in Zanzibar.

Most people are having an

early night after the evening prayers and meals. There are groups of
locals mingling with tourists down at Forodhani Gardens, the outdoor
nighttime food market. After ten oclock, even the vendors here begin
to cover up their food and close up shop for the night. On the north
side of Stone Town, though, the big all-night disco, Bwawani Hotel, is
getting started with their famous, but completely unofficial, Tuesday
gay night. On the other side of town local women gather at a small
barber shop to get their hair and henna done by the gay hair stylists.
According to some accounts, same-sex relationships in this
predominantly Muslim society are frequent and actually quite common,
particularly as the male/female relations are so tightly controlled by
culture and religion.
I have been a gay mzungu (white person or foreigner) living in
Zanzibar for 6 months now, and during that time I have attempted to
build bridges and make connections with, or at least find, any sort of
gay community that exists here. It has been difficult and I havent been
particularly successful at it. The gay community here is hidden and
secretive, but as anywhere else in the world, it exists and is thriving in
its own manner. However, this experience has given me the
opportunity to reflect on what it means to be gay in Africa, and how
that is also informed by issues such as colonialism, poverty,
development, gender, inequality and religion.
The gay community in Tanzania and Zanzibar (a semi-autonomous
archipelago in the Indian Ocean that has an often-troubled relationship
with the mainland) faces many unique challenges. Tanzania is, of
course, one of the 76 countries that have penalized homosexuality. The
penal code here gives a minimum of 30 years and a maximum of life in
prison for homosexuality, making it one of the countries with the
harshest anti-LGBT laws in the world. But Tanzania hasnt captured the
headlines or controversy that other African countries have (such as
Uganda or Cameroon). No one has been convicted for homosexuality
and the press here only gives offhand mention to the topic of
homosexuality; mainly when it is impossible to ignore because the
issue has been dominating the world news headlines surrounding
neighboring countries. The issue of homosexuality here, however, is
much more complex.
I had the opportunity to travel in to Dar es Salaam, the principal city in
Tanzania (although not the capital, which is Dodoma) and meet with
members of LGBT Voice Tanzania, one of the local LGBT organizations
taking an activist approach to the issue of homosexuality. In a
conversation that I had with the director he gave me a lot more insight
on the specific situation here. Silence on the issue isnt a coincidence,

but has been very strategically planned. Both the anti-gay voices and
the LGBT voices are being silenced as Tanzania simply doesnt want to
address the issue. The government wants to avoid the anti-gay circus
and possible threats to foreign aid as has happened in Uganda, but it
equally wants to avoid having any sort of LGBT rights movement that
may push them to make uncomfortable decisions. Additionally, while
people here arent specifically arrested for homosexuality, the LGBT
community faces a great deal of violence and discrimination and feels
no sense of protection from the police, who will often arrest them on
other charges such as drugs, prostitution or disturbing the peace.
When I went to visit LGBT Voice, their office was located in a remote
part of the city, near the National Stadium, an address that was no
where close to the one advertised on their website. This was due to the
fact they had recently been evicted from their premises by their former
landlord when he found out what sort of organization they were.
The issue of LGBT rights, particularly in a place such as Tanzania, is
tied to many other issues at play in society. Historically, colonialists
and missionaries brought the strict anti-homosexuality laws that are
currently in place in many African countries, criminalizing many
authentic indigenous homosexual practices. Now, in 2014, these laws
are brought up as indigenous and homosexuality is decried as a
practice from the West that is against our culture. In a way, this is a
form of post-colonial oppression that is targeting and scapegoating one
specific group of people. While I was less successful at getting in touch
with the gay community here, one of the most striking things that I
saw was how strong this notion of post-colonialism still exists in Africa,
particularly in Zanzibar, a small island that hosts many tourists and is
rife with many unresolved historical inequalities.
One of the things that is most striking to me in the time I have spent
here in Zanzibar is the divide between the hordes of affluent, white
tourists and expats living here and the local population who is
struggling greatly (even though they are definitely benefitting from
tourism). I have developed a very close friendship with a Tanzanian
man, from the mainland, who is working here in Zanzibar, and he has
personally described the miserable way in which workers are treated
here in the tourism industry. I have also noticed very distinctly the way
that many of the tourists and expats here display a sense of postcolonial superiority, which comes from the often-royal treatment that
they get, a treatment that they come to expect. Many times, whether
at work or when speaking with other locals people seem to assume
that because I am the mzungu, that I should be the boss or the
manager. In all sectors, though, there is great disparity in salaries; local
Tanzanians are paid a fraction of what their expat counterparts are
paid, even for very similar jobs.

This leads to a great deal of inequality, abuse and exploitation. There

has been a proliferation of young beach boys in Zanzibar who are
serving the sexual fantasies of middle-aged British and Italian women
escaping to the sunny beaches and running away from mid-life crises
and broken marriages. In the meanwhile, local religious leaders are
decrying how tourism and Western influence is undermining the
traditional values of society. Whether it is Christianity in mainland
Tanzania or Islam in Zanzibar, religion is often seen as the only
authentic and local safeguard against this many-headed hydra of postcolonial exploitation and poverty that has gripped many countries in
Africa
In Zanzibar, homosexuality hasnt been too often their specific topic of
discussion, but it does come up again as yet another form of Western
exploitation and one of the evils that comes with the presence of
tourists and expats that have had an influence on the culture. There
was a huge debate around the issue in 2004 when the Bwawani
nightclub hosted a gay marriage as a part of its Tuesday gay night. The
topic of homosexuality often comes as a convenient scapegoat to deal
with all of the other ills that African societies are facing. It is a topic
that doesnt have much support in the population and can be an easily
articulated vehicle for frustration about the unfair situation that African
countries have found themselves in after the end of colonialism.
So how do all these elements tie together and how do they reflect
faith? This is a question that I have been piecing together throughout
my time here, as I have been attempting to draw up my experiences
here in the greater framework of my lifes work. I do believe there is a
strong connection, though. Exploitation, inequality, discrimination and
homophobia all come from the same source, a fear of our innate
humanity and the need to control and dominate. Religion is naturally a
source of unity and connection with the eternal, a force that should be
used to connect us more deeply to each other and bring out our
humanity. However, religion is often used to further deepen these
divides, whether that is through the abundance of religious conflicts
that are tearing apart countries throughout Africa or whether that is
using the church as a pulpit to preach hatred and homophobia.
This experience has been a completely unforgettable one for me, not
just because it has given me the opportunity to live in a beautiful and
fascinating place, but because it has allowed me to gain a better
understanding of these various issues and the interplay present.
Exploitation exists at many levels and the effect of the colonial project
here in Africa has had many long-lasting consequences across the
continent, something that is very visible in the beautiful island

paradise of Zanzibar. Ultimately, though, by focusing on our common

humanity and equality, whether that is through religion, through simply
acknowledging the humanity of the young man serving your food at
the tourist caf or through supporting the effeminate local hair stylist,
will we be able to overcome these divides.