Grade 10, PUSH
My name is Lihle. I am an outspoken, smart and goal-driven girl. I stay in a family of six which includes me, my three brothers: Lunga, Luyanda and Asive, plus my parents, of course. Having a father who’s a pastor is not easy, but it’s even worse when he is homophobic.
We live in a double storey house and our parents are able to afford our needs and wants, especially since my mom is a doctor and my dad is a teacher and a pastor. Growing up with a pastor as your father is not easy; it comes with a lot of responsibilities. I have to be at church at least three times a week and I also have to be an example to my peers. With that being said, my dad always emphasises what a big sin it is to be attracted to the same gender. Just the word ‘gay’ repulses him. Him being against the LGBTQQI+ community makes it hard for me and my brother to express and be our true selves because we have to hide our sexuality.
My mom and brothers, Asive and Luyanda, already know that me and Lunga are part of the LGBTQQI+ community but my father is too naive to notice. I remember when we were still young, Lunga loved playing netball with me and my friends. He would sometimes even put on Mom’s make-up, but dad thought it was just a phase that Lunga was going through. Up until the end, Lunga still liked doing his make-up and dressing up as a drag queen. Unfortunately, my dad was always talking about how much he hated this phase Lunga was going through. He was always calling for prayer sessions so they could cast away the demon that had possessed Lunga.
It killed me so much whenever my father started talking about how much of a sin it was to be gay and then started preaching the Bible.
That just made me so mad and feel guilty too because I knew most of the time, he was referring to me and Lunga. One day, dad saw me kissing a girl at the mall and immediately came to us and dragged me home. When we got home, he started shouting at me and telling me what a disappointment I was, telling me how he would never have a gay son nor a gay daughter. The following day, after I came back home, there were a bunch of pastors at my house. My dad told me to sit down. They started praying, saying that they want the demon that possessed me to leave me alone. After that day I stayed in my room for about a week, giving my father the silent treatment. My father’s behaviour had me thinking about what kind of person he was — someone who was willing to disown his own children because of their sexuality.
I called a family meeting with my father included because this meeting was mainly for him. We waited for him to come downstairs and finally he did. I greeted everyone.
“Tata mna no Lunga sidikiwe yilento yakho, of treating us as if we are not your children and refusing to accept us for who we really are. Us being gay is because of God’s will. He is the one who created us to be attracted to the same gender. We didn’t choose to be like this. Yazi ubuhlungu uba owam utata ondaziyoakafuni ondamkelo mna ne sexuality yam, awudikwa kumane undizamela boyfriends and forcing Lunga to sleep with girls. Do you know how hard it is for mna no Lunga to actually walk down the street with the fear that I might not reach my destination in one piece? Because there are lot of narrow-minded people like you, and they are also homophobic.”
After the day of the family-meeting, my dad just pretenGrade 10ded as if Lunga and I did not exist. Months passed by with him not caring about us and he continued to be homophobic. One day, Lunga went to a gay club dressed as a drag queen. The following day, Lunga was still not home. I was really worried about him because he usually called me if he was going to spend the night out. His phone was going straight to voicemail.
A few hours later, my mom got a call from one of the neighbours telling her about a dead body next to the old, abandoned factory and that the body looked like Lunga. I was with mom when the neighbour called and we both rushed to the factory, hoping that it was not Lunga’s body. In disbelief, we were met by Lunga’s body, covered in blood, shirtless and the words, “You’re a boy, not a girl” written on his chest.
Days passed by and we buried Lunga. My father blamed himself for Lunga’s death and realised how cruel people are — how far they are willing to take their homophobia. After Lunga’s death my father and I became very close, and he was very supportive of my sexuality. He even preached about how normal it is to be homosexual. He wanted to fix his wrongs — the way he treated me and Lunga before.
He sometimes preaches in church that being attracted to the same gender is normal — that in the Bible there is no verse that says being gay is a sin and that only God can judge. We also created an event as the church which remembers the lives of all the people who died at the hands of homophobic people. The event also raises awareness that being part of the LGBTQQI+ community does not make you different from everyone else. We are all the same.