Gay Tanzania--Silence in
Africa
Following in the
tradition of homophobic Africa, LGBT citizens keep their lives and
activities in the shade, slowly working at grass roots levels to
make their presence known.
Also
see Tanzania
News & Reports
By Richard Ammon
February 2008
“We were afraid you were a Tanzanian trying to expose us so we were
not sure if we should respond…you know, it can be dangerous
because we are not yet strong in our groups to confront the homophobia of the
police, our families and our employers.”
So began my first interview with one of the leading Tanzanian lesbian
activists as Ashura (not her real name) and I talked over lunch in
central Dar es Salaam (Dar, for short) on the east coast of this central
Africa
country.
I had traveled across the entire vast green expanse of Tanzania--about
a thousand miles--by way of enormous Lake Victoria (source of the
Nile), the famous Serengeti Plain, the animal-filled Ngorongoro Crater
and
majestic snow-capped Mt. Kilimanjaro (image above) to Dar on the
Indian Ocean before I met Ashura and other activists. At first they
were not
easy
to
find; my e-mails and text messages went unanswered and I was afraid
I’d
leave the country without seeing any LGBT folks here or gaining any
understanding of the ‘scene’.
Finally Ashura came through by phone (Africans are very connected by
cell phones) and we talked about her first meeting me alone to assure
other
LGBT people I was not a lawman or a spy. The hesitation to trust
a stranger is understandable. Homosexuality in Tanzania is
a crime punishable
by 30 years to life imprisonment for ‘offenses against nature’.
(The law was revised upward from 14 years imprisonment in 2002.)
In light of this draconian law, she asked her identity be kept confidential,
using the pseudonym Ashura.)
As well, nearly every day I read in the several English language newspapers
(Kiswahili is the official language and English is the second language)
about suspected thieves being lynched or clubbed or burned
to death by local vigilante mobs of men taking the law into their own hands.
There have been no reports of anyone getting killed for being gay,
but the impulsive readiness of mob violence evokes a steady cautiousness
in LGBT people to maintain constant vigilance.
Ashura and 'The Association'
‘The Association’ is a pseudonym for the one and only lesbian
organization in the country. In Tanzania all groups have to register
with the government and this one is no exception. Of course, disclosing
their true identity would be risky so the women present themselves
as a women’s empowerment group under a different name, which
I have named The Association.
It currently has more than 100
highly invisible members across the country. In 1998 it started by friends as an informal social group
and by 1999 most of the women were interested in forming an organization
with a higher purpose. Not everyone liked the idea but the time felt
right for the country to have an identified LGBT association.
The ‘old
guard’ women, many in couples, helped with donations and the
younger more assertive women formed a initial group called the Lesbian
Youth Group with a mission to educate people about ‘diversity’ through
art and culture such as music and dance performances in a non-confrontational
manner consistent with The Association’s style of integrative
activism.
Invitation to join is spread by word-of-mouth around town, including
in the several gay and gay-friendly bars and clubs in Dar es Salaam,
a sprawling city of three million. Numerous issues have arisen
for the women as they have developed Tanzanian Lesbian Association’s
goals and strategies.
Ashura said one of the significant challenges is to get different
classes of women to operate together. Tanzania is economically
class-conscious
with middle and upper class women reluctant to socialize with women
in lower socioeconomic levels. There are different venues in Dar
that tend to separate out the classes with each patronizing their
favorite club. Often the flavor of a club is determined by the
owner who caters
to a preferred type of customer: some venues are gay male friendly,
some are lesbian-friendly, some are mixed along with some hustlers
and sex workers.
Poverty and Progress
It’s not easy developing a grass-roots LGBT organization here
because of the criminal status of homosexuality; the movement is fledgling,
cautious and still finding its way. Most of Tanzania is agricultural
with most work done by peasant families and workers with only primary
(eighth grade) education and not a whisper of awareness about human
rights, gender or sexuality issues—despite a claim that 40%
of Tanzanian men engage in sex with other men, with 100% denial.
(Many of these men are married which complicates the heterosexual
HIV/AIDS transmission problem: how does one publicly address denied
and secretive
sexual behavior? And how does a wife protect herself with condoms
without implying or directly accusing her spouse of taboo but common
extramarital
activity?)
There is no precedent for gay activism here and many LGBT members
and leaders do not have the independence, finances or time to go
to leadership
seminars or organizational meetings outside Tanzania; occasionally
IGLHRC sends a consultant, as does HIVOS from Holland or Astrea
Lesbian Fund.
Lack of money is a chronic problem. Tanzania, as an independent
country, is hardly that: it depends on foreign government
aid for over 40%
of its gross national income. Hundreds of NGO's, UN agencies
and religious/charity organizations help keep the nation afloat with
their donations and/or
missionary health and education services across the country (indeed,
across the whole continent). Micro-financing is becoming popular
and
common but cannot be called a driving economic force yet.
But since The Association and CPSS (the men’s organization; more
later) don’t yet have strong organizational presence or an impressive
list of achievements or any reliable friends in high places, they can
only compete modestly for international funding.
And they have to walk
a fine line of discretion as an LGBT organization, careful to couch
their full truth within wider missions such as women’s
rights or HIV/AIDS education or local sponsors of community arts
and sports
events. In return, pro-gay donor countries such as Norway
and Holland also must be discreet so as not to be seen as funding
an organization that is illegal in Tanzania.
A
Fragile Scene
Nevertheless, inside the city limits of Dar there is a quietly
thriving LGB community with interconnecting circles of friends
meeting privately
in homes or in the half dozen venues that are gay or gay friendly,
such as Ma Chain Club (mixed gay/straight), Mama’s Club (women),
Q Bar (mixed, including sex workers) or Club Oasis in trendy Oyster
Bay district popular with men.
Still, a dense population is no guarantee of privacy or indifference: in
2007 a lesbian couple were forced out of their apartment in
Dar when neighbors highly suspected they were gay and became threatening
and vocal in their disapproval, protesting their presence and creating
a scandal that reached the local (unfriendly) newspapers.
Another incident that scandalized gays in 2007 Dar happened when
two lesbians, socializing with a dozen other friends at Mango Club,
had
too much to drink and were found fondling in the ladies room, which
soon blew up into another moment of media hysteria. It resulted
in The Association being thrown out of their office. 
But instead of caving in, Ashura sought a lawyer to protest against
the landlord’s discrimination; it took several biased rejections
until they found a supportive attorney whose advice was not to take
the case to court but rather let time pass and give no interviews to
the press. Going to court would only expose The Association to further
negative attention and, since homosexuality is a criminal offense,
many would perceive The Association as attempting to be above the law.
In the end, they did ‘escape’ with their office equipment
and changed their phone number.
Currently there is no recourse for
gays in Tanzania against such prejudice and intolerance.
Meanwhile, despite the drama of The Association, Ashura the undaunted
one, has had two significant relationships, the second of which
has endured now for more than three years. With little effort they
found
a place to live together and without much attention from anyone
(so far; picking the right neighborhood is important) since big
city women
commonly live together for financial reasons or because they are
related.
Hope and Courage
The Association’s troubles have emboldened Ashura and the membership—as
women in a patriarchal society and as lesbians in a homophobic culture.
Their set goals are to bring awareness to an unenlightened country
(at least the major cities) by offering health programs
and educational discussions about women’s issues (power, equality, sexual protections)
at the local community level, and about more generalized awareness
regarding diseases such as malaria offering free mosquito nets and
teaching about improving water quality.
In this manner, The Association integrates itself in local affairs
and neighbors get to know the women not as lesbians but as charity
caring workers for the common good. Slowly, as friends, they can
be known, if others ask, for who they are: women helping women.
Those
who want to know more are free to ask The Association further questions
about the members, but more commonly much is understood without
words.
In
addition to women’s social and education work The
Association focuses quietly on health care workers who deal with HIV
testing and
counseling. Many health workers are uneducated about MSM
and WSW and the variant sexual details of disease transmission
among this population.
(Ashura calls these ‘entry and exit points’).
There is always a need for more trained HIV-test counselors who
can deal with same-sex behavior in a mature manner since homosexuality
for many does not exist and is therefore not targeted in the national
prevention programs. Across
Africa there is a network of voluntary counseling and testing centers--VCT's.
Kenya’s highly organized and developed Liverpool
VCT program has assisted The Association in training three members
for HIV counseling and testing who in turn have trained
other Association members in Tanzania for counseling.
It is hoped in the future to lobby the Ministry of Health on behalf
of WSW and MSM to increase awareness of gay issues since these
people already receive HIV care in hospitals and clinics throughout
the
country. Research for this purpose has been offered by Norway but
so far only
MSM are included in the proposal. The Tanzanian health
ministry has not agreed to include WSW in this work since “lesbians don’t
exist” here.
Funding for this and other The Association projects has come from
the Astrea Lesbian Foundation, HIVOS in Holland and some member
donations
from prosperous black women in Tanzania. Even so, funding is usually
restricted for specific events or programs and there is little
left for supporting volunteers and leaders, although Ashura said
there was
one employed person, herself, in The Association.
Happily, The Association managed to send representatives to
the highly successful OutGames Human Rights Conference in Montreal
in 2007 which
served as an inspiring boost to their distant work in Tanzania.
How proud these women must have felt to hear speeches by such eminent
leaders as three openly-gay Supreme Court Justices from South Africa,
Australia
and Argentina; or listen to the United Nations High Commissioner
for Human Rights, Judge Louise Arbour, declare that “everyone deserves
equal rights—no exceptions!”
Research and Change
As if this were not enough to keep The Association busy for several
years, Ashura said they want to do research and write documentation
about sexual abuse of women, especially lesbians, that can be passed
on to Tanzanian Human Rights organizations-- which is awkward because
some of them are not known to be friends of LGB citizens. Even
the former director of Amnesty International-Tanzania, who was
somewhat
supportive, has not shown any interest in bringing about awareness
change in official circles. Even though the constitution
prohibits discrimination against anyone, it is an abstraction that
has little
influence in the streets where people live and work and mask their
truth with silence and smiles.
Ashura expressed her intention that once the documentation is complete
international human rights organization will give assistance to
their research and help influence change in Tanzania’s negative laws
and opinions toward LGBT people.
Even in the respected University of Dar es Salaam not a single
professor is willing to offer LGBT human rights leadership or support,
including
anyone from the law faculty--unlike Prof. Sylvia Tamale in the
Faculty of Law in Nairobi’s Makerere University.
Ashura said there is a strong call for legal, medical and organizational
assistance from international rights organizations and NGO's to
help give forceful and weighty guidance in this direction. When
a respected
Dutch consultant from HIVOS came to Tanzania to lecture and discuss
with other NGO's about LGBT human rights there was polite but clear
denial and resistance to his visit (i.e. “it’s not an issue
here because there are very few homosexuals in Tanzania…”).
For example, although there is a program called the Tanzanian Gender
Network Program, an NGO sponsored by HIVOS, the leadership has not
been responsive to The Association’s requests for discussions.
As well the media need their own training and education about
LGB issues so the reporting begins to shift away from homophobic
ignorance to more tolerant and understanding perspectives. One of The Association’s
members is a journalist who has begun the slow work of persuading
other journalists to reconsider their attitudes.
The list of offenses against LGBT Tanzanians, overt and hidden,
personal and official is long and will take generations to move
toward fairness.
But recent political changes (February 2008) at the highest levels
of government are beginning to show some progress toward more honest
and fair democratic policies and attitudes. The young President
Kikwete recently cleaned house and dismissed his prime minister
and the entire
cabinet in order to bring in younger, less corrupt and responsible
leaders.
As well, President Jakaya Kikwete was the first African
president to get publicly tested for HIV. He is the most
liked and least corrupt president Tanzania
has had since independence from Britain in 1961. After an initial
disastrous generation of socialism the country has slowly climbed
upward to its
current capitalistic, religiously diverse and multi-party moderate
stability, but not without bureaucratic corruption and
homophobic ministers. Hope is always limited in Africa—two
steps forward, one back.
Further information about lesbian Africans can be found in an informative
book published in 2005 in South Africa: ‘Tommy Boys,
Lesbian Men and Ancestral Wives’. Chapter two of
the book focuses on the difficult lives of women in Tanzania and
includes personal stories
of their self-discoveries and attempts to live normal lives. The
text if the book is available on line at:
http://books.google.com/books?id=YGvp0LnYN7cC&dq=tommy+boys+lesbian+men+and+ancestral+wives&pg=
PP1&ots=ENO9tMc9un&sig=ZlIQ2wC-k5n9gJaO-yigvS4a63E&hl=en&prev=http://www.google.com/search?q=Tommy+Boys,+Lesbian+Men+and+
Ancestral+Wives&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&sa=X&oi=print&ct=title&cad=one-book-with-thumbnail#PPA285,M1
Allan,
Jon and CPSS
In addition to Ashura I spoke to two leaders of the men’s Community
Peer Support Services (CPSS), the main—indeed, the
only--gay men’s organization in Tanzania.
Claiming over 475 members throughout this country of 35 million
people, CPSS has ten
sub-groups or zones
across the land. Allan is the chairman of CPSS and Jon (not
their real names) is the program coordinator. Together in
Dar es Salaam they design
programs
intended
to advance equal rights, increase awareness of diversity
and educate people about HIV preventions and care.
Like many gay organizations in repressive homophobic countries, CPSS does not present itself as gay but rather as
an HIV education and
awareness program offering community-based activities and information
as a means
of helping others and becoming a familiar local helping hand—not
unlike the women’s Association. As well a serving others
such charitable activity also helps qualify CPSS to receive
some limited
funding from international donors who must, in turn, be sensitive
to the laws of recipient countries.
In
Tanzania homosexuality is a criminal offense which forces funders
from liberal pro-gay countries such as
Holland and Norway to find ways of spiriting money to groups
without offending authorities. As part of their protective guise,
CPSS has
established a ‘cover’ organization with a different name
through which foreign donations can be received—a common
tactic throughout homophobic Africa.
Such cautiousness, I asked Allan, is it really necessary?
Has anyone actually been busted? “Yes,” he replied, “last
year a man in Zanzibar was caught in a sexual relationship.
He was jailed,
tried and sentenced to 34 years in prison. The term was later
reduced to 30 years.”
As we spoke in the quiet of my hotel restaurant with few
others present it was clear that both Allan and Jon were
apprehensive
about
being overheard. “The person to your left is staring at us and I don’t
feel safe,” wrote Jon on my pad. But shortly after,
the man left and we resumed our topic. Much as these courageous
men are
proud of their work, and despite being in a major metropolitan
city, they still operate within a society that is filled with
anti-gay
negativity, harmful gossip and rumor that can humiliate and ridicule
vulnerable
people, destroy reputations and careers and break up families.
Similar to the women’s Association, CPSS focuses on charity and
health work to increase their local visibility and become integrated
into neighborhoods in all ten zones. Their most recent event was a
sports bonanza, ‘Mukasi 2007’, co-sponsored by CPSS
and a non-gay organization that offered competitions in 10 sports
and
attracted about 500 kids in various age groups.
In the process of having fun the kids received age-appropriate
information about health issues including HIV, self-respect,
personal hygiene and
the importance of education. Such events of course are expensive
since there are T-shirts and food and awards to be made. CPSS
operates on a very limited
budget
and as
usual funding is tight and the need is always high. This
is sub-Sahara Africa where the HIV rates (mostly heterosexual)
are among the
highest in the world.
Another focus for CPSS is the local environment. They engage
with residents of neighborhoods for clean-up days to improve
living
conditions, eliminating
trash and stagnant water (to reduce mosquitoes).
“This is the way we want to work, as a community organization so people
come to know us as their friends first and then only maybe
later, if it comes up, about our sexuality. By then we hope we are known
as good helpers and educators and sports sponsors and not as a label
of ‘gays’ that
scare people and turn them against us. We don’t push
a gay agenda,” said
Jon, “we do it the African way.”
Personal Scene
As with the lesbians, the men (in Dar es Salaam) function
in a lively yet closed social network of intersecting
friendship circles in private
homes, gay-friendly venues and at CPSS meetings (where, Jon
said with a playful smile, is the only safe place to cruise!).
Needless
to say
the entire network is virtually invisible from the outside
as homophobia always threatens to unmask or arrest people.
Allan should know. He narrowly escaped capture last year when he
was dating a younger man whose parents found out
about
them and
called
the police. When the officers showed up at Allan’s
residence he was not at home and the cook said Allan was
out of town. especially he
was only three doors away; afterwards the cook reported
to Allan who immediately left town for several months until
the heat was off. Sadly
the young man is now estranged from his family and Allan
does not go near the parents’ neighborhood even though
they do not know his face. “I’m always nervous,” he
said. “You
cannot imagine how it is to always feel threatened by such
a legal rule.”
Jon said the consequences for being ‘outed’ are
dire. Jobs, reputations and family honor are at stake. Allan attributed
this
to poor education, the conservative culture, narrow-minded religion
and rigid adherence to heterosexual traditions, all which inhibit
personal freedom and cast a shadow on the progress of pro-gay
efforts.
That said, if a queer Tanzanian is discreet and doesn’t make
a public scene or act inappropriately a man or
woman can have a moderately comfortable and safe life with a partner and gay friends in Dar, Zanzibar
City, Arusha or Mwanza--Tanzania’s other major cities.
In the Provinces
But not in rural villages however. Outside the city limits,
where the vast majority of Tanzania’s 35 million people live, peasant farmers
raise families to help work the land, planting rice and harvesting
corn or coffee. Education for many ends at 14 due to lack of secondary
schools fees—and often so does a girl’s virginity as she
is likely to be married off to an ‘enforced’ spouse.
(Child marriages are being criticized by the government
and private women’s organizations because, among
other reasons, a girl’s
education stops when she becomes pregnant, which severely
limits her ability to earn money or become independent
if her husband dies--the average male life expectancy is
under 50--or abandons her, not
uncommon in Africa. Working in favor of child marriages
is the bizarre myth that intercourse with a virgin child
will cure a
person of a
sexually transmitted disease.)
Sexual identity and personal expression are far down the
list of privileges. Any budding same-sex desire dissolves
into adherence
and loyalty to
one’s family and tribe, into minimal-education work
such as tending goat herds, furniture making or delivering
charcoal fuel by ox-cart.
Of course, sexual desire does emerge and carnal combinations
happen, but for rural MSM and WSW the connection is usually
without any understanding
of sexual orientation or same-sex romance and is internalized
as ‘just
something that happens’.
In
the Cities
However, if a person does understand they are ‘different’,
a private gay life can be lived in an invisible manner
with carefully crafted masks and socially acceptable disguises,
the most common
of which is marriage and kids, whether out of self-ignorance
or deliberate deception.
Dar es Salaam’s millions of denizens provide anonymity
and a highly cosmopolitan mix of foreigners, professionals, UN
personnel,
NGO employees and an educated and prosperous middle class.
In Arusha and Mwanza, the next largest cities, there
are scattered members of The Association and CPSS but
clearly
no visible ‘scene’ to
be found in the streets and markets of either city. A
slight presence may be found in the tourist beach areas
but even there it’s
difficult to determine if one is gay or gay-for-pay among
horny foreigners (muzungus).
(During my week in a Zanzibar beach resort I didn’t
see any behavior that appeared to be gay cruising.)
In
Dar, Allan said he has lived most of his adult life in
the city. For twenty of those years he lived with
his beloved
Abdul
whom
he originally met at the bank where they both worked—until
it was discovered they were a gay couple in 1996 and
fired because they were a “bad
example”, with no recourse to legal action.
It was their dismissal that gave impetus for their starting
(with Jon) CPSS in 1997 as a charitable health NGO
as a means
of supporting themselves,
doing charity work and helping isolated and alienated
gay men with no place to turn. The initial funding came
from
the three
founders.
There was no LGBT group anywhere in the country at the
time.
Since then CPSS has grown (membership costs 1000 Tanzanian
shillings a year--about US$85) slowly and secretly; they
use code words
to identify among themselves. Unfortunately
Abdul succumbed to AIDS
in 2005—more
accurately, from incompetent homophobic medical treatment
than from the virus. Allan’s entire family of seven
siblings know about his orientation. Jon originally worked
for a government
agency
that approved construction projects during the socialist
period after independence. But eventually the ministry
was made redundant
as privatization
replaced state controlled agencies and industries.
More recently he has been engaged on occasion as a contractor
with his class-seven licensed building company based
in Dar es Salaam,
which has built residential buildings. He also has seven
siblings, two of whom—brothers—are
also gay.
In 2005 he campaigned for a seat in the parliament and
learned the hard way about corruption, greed and turf
wars among
government ministers
and MP’s with not-so-hidden agendas for manipulating power and
money to their favor. “These are evil people, terrible. I would
start over with a machine gun and remove them all. They are criminals
becoming rich while so many live poor and we have such bad roads and
dirt and chaos in our cities and streets,” he decried in
a moment of heated frustration.
Gay and lesbian Tanzanian activists have a great challenge
ahead of them, to begin a delicate dialogue with the
government to
reconsider the criminal status of same-sex behavior and
open a small window
of
tolerance in a culture that is ignorant and prejudiced
against sexual difference within its population.

Curious Sexual Sidebar
A curious sidebar from Jon about sexual behavior
involves anal sex among heterosexuals. He
claimed research indicates
that two thirds
of men prefer anal sex with women over vaginal sex. The
reasons are unclear but such behavior is very secretive
and, according
to Jon,
serves as a convenient ‘disguise’ for gay
men who prefer anal sex and not vaginal sex. Having
anal sex with a woman
can both mask their true orientation while allowing
them the pleasure of anal sex…
Impromptu in Zanzibar
Suraka is a 23 year old Tanzanian heterosexual receptionist
at the Sunset Bungalows in Kendwe village on the west
coast of the
island.
With a ready smile and a soft masculine bearing he checked
us and showed us to our modern and stylish room near
the beach along
azure
blue water.
Like many other employees he was more than laid back.
Between arrivals he sat on a wood and cushioned couch
across from
the reception
desk, leg up, barefooted, with low-rise black jeans and
a Sunset Bungalows
T-shirt. On the back their logo: no bikini, no party.
After a few settling-in questions and answers the white
sandy
beach, sun and
pine trees and
waterfront restaurant were ours to enjoy.
A couple of days later I approached him and asked him
if he knew any homosexuals in Zanzibar. His reaction
was calm
as
he thought
for a
moment and said he didn’t know anyone directly
but knew there were some in Stone Town and knew that
others worked in the various
resorts along Zanzibar’s coast.
GG: What is your opinion of these people?
I don’t know why they want to do that. It’s not a good
way to be for them, I think.
GG: If a friend of yours said he was gay would you still
be friends?
I don’t think so. It is strange for them that way. I don’t
know why they act to be that way. Maybe the parents did not advise
them in a good way. Maybe they are confused and do not have normal
friends with girls.
GG: Would the family reject the gay person?
Maybe, or maybe say nothing or make them be married.
I don’t
know.
GG: Do you have a strong bad feeling about gay people?
Not strong but yes a feeling, more like feeling sorry
for them; they are not right and maybe they need advice
to
correct their
way. But
if they are famous and everybody knows then it doesn’t matter.
It’s okay and people accept that.
GG: There are gay people here?
Yes, I think so in the tourist areas there are such people
who look for sex, for man or woman. We know this and
it happens in
the tourist
sections—like in Mombassa (Kenya). But not so in
the small villages away from here. There it is not good,
not allowed to be that way. Local
people don’t understand this and will not accept it.
After a pause, Suraka seemed puzzled by his own lack
of knowledge about homosexuality and his inability to
explain
better the
issue in his
country: “I will put my head down and think about this and give
you a better opinion later,” he said.
It was obvious he had never been asked about homosexuality
and had little understanding of it—not unusual for the vast
majority of straight Tanzanians.
A
Visit to Q Bar/Restaurant in Oyster Bay
It’s not a polished place, with picnic benches for dining tables
and several stand-up drinking tables; half a dozen TVs for watching
sports events; two bars offer dozens of alcohol drinks; the food menu
offers the usual chicken-beef-fish with rice of chips; open to the
sky with upstairs and downstairs seating; and a guesthouse with a couple
dozen rooms ranging from backpacker bunks to oversized ‘executive’ rooms;
an en suite single is US$45.
About 9 PM the place starts to liven up as friends
and strangers show up in singles, couples or small
groups
looking for a
chat, a smoke,
a drink or a meal. On this particular night, under
a full moon in February, by 9:30 PM there were distinct ‘types’ gathered at tables
and bars. The most visible were the prostitutes
with their stylishly tight outfits, movie-star make-up
and an ever-ready ‘halloo’ on
their lips. Veronica had her eye on me from the first moment
and waited until I finished my dinner before she came over and
introduced
herself.
But before she could warm up a vacuous conversation I excused
myself.
Across the room were several men, in couples
or threes or fours meeting after work at the numerous
embassies,
NGO's
and commercial
offices
in the areas, both European whites and local blacks
chattering at each
other above the house music, many fuming cigarette
smoke. Another cluster was ‘tom boys’—young
women with lean figures dressed in jeans and shirts
looking very butch. Near
them was a hetero
couple
obviously entangled in a cat-and mouse conversation
of nonsense verbal foreplay. This was clearly a mixed
place with cross-currents
of interest:
WSW, MSM, MSW and variations in between.
The energy level was bubbly and appeared free of the
paranoia I had heard about for two days during my interviews
with
activists. This
was a person-to-person local LGB/straight pick-up and
cruise scene
where people were left to their own choices without
risk of being busted by police. And this was only 9PM;
by
eleven or
midnight
the crowd increases
and the night’s dark shadows provide cover for discreet
or indiscreet liaisons that satisfy hidden desire with little
risk.
The scene repeats itself nightly and Tanzanians in
need of contact—friendship
or a fuck—live out their night lives as counterbalance
to the required restraint of daylight, professions and domestic
responsibilities.
History
note: the image (right) is of the slave trade memorial
in StoneTown, Zanzibar. From this island port hundreds of thousands
of captive slaves, stolen from their homelands, were shipped
abroad to Asia and Americas. Discrimination has a long tortured
history.