Varela Alencar-Ponte Natalia, On The Road To Social Acceptance

ON THE ROAD TO SOCIAL ACCEPTANCE

Written By Natalia Varela Alencar-Ponte

One day, during the last summer in South Africa, the sky wore the most beautiful rainbow flag of the symbol of peace, a living masterpiece of nature. Though it grows unnoticed by so many, It is more to my eye than any artwork that brings its likeness in beautiful sights of softest nature, and there he was; Ukufa, medium height with an endomorph looking body. Black, Coily hair neatly styled to reveal a round, chubby, charming face. Dark smooth skin that gracefully compliments his hair. Glistening dark brown eyes, set low within their sockets, watch longingly over the rainbow. Little did I know that we would later become more than just two strangers.

I felt a particular connection to him, therefore I decided to sit next to him on the bench. He seemed very shy but he started a conversation with me by telling how beautiful the sky was looking. We talked for hours. He told me that he lived in Uganda but was visiting his aunt in South Africa for the summer vacation. We talked about our lives, our hobbies and the things we liked and disliked. We discovered that we had many things in common like our love for music and dance. I was curious about his country so I said: “I’ve never been to Uganda, do you like it there?”

He said: “Well, I love my country. I live in Kampala, the capital of Uganda. I believe that it is a magical, beautiful place filled with nature. Many rare animal species live there.”

I said, “that’s amazing.”

He said, “Yes it is. Also, Uganda remains very traditional regarding its culture. You can still see women dressing in kitenge dresses, children wearing traditional clothing, batik pillows, and more. There’s only one problem.”

I asked; “what’s the problem?”

He said; “Being very traditional is not always a good thing. Where I live, homosexuality is seen as a demonic

thing, as something that is not right and shouldn’t happen. Additionally, homosexuality is seen as a result of Western influence, against our culture, and conceived to destroy the actual African tradition so they oppose it. After listening to him talking, the pain it caused me was indescribable. It is not fair that people can’t be who they are because they are afraid of being hurt or being alone. I just wish everyone could have the freedom they deserve, feel love and acceptance.”

We felt an immediate utter trust in each other. We felt a bond. We were both dealing with similar pain, and we both coveted for the same things, freedom, love, respect, and acceptance. That day, we both knew that we had created an everlasting friendship that would endure regardless of the distance.

When he went back to Uganda, our friendship grew stronger. We texted each other all day every day and we video called every night. We were in an akin situation, we gave each other the support and love we needed to be able to be our true selves. With him, I was able to finally accept who I was and start my journey of self-love, and with my help, he was able to have the courage to do what he believed was right, tell the world who he really was and stop acting like what people wanted him to be. In Uganda, people believe that homosexuality is lined up with demonic deviation, and Uganda is seen as a homophobic tide that disables LGBT bodies. Notwithstanding, Ukufa’s parents were really loving and caring and he believed that because they were like that they would love and accept him if he came out to them as gay.

One morning, I woke up and saw that Ukufa had publicly come out as gay on his social media. I called him immediately and he was crying, hiding in a bathroom stall at school.

He said: “My peers are looking for me. They want to beat me up.”

I said: “OMG, stay there. Don’t go out until everyone is gone and you are safe.”

He said: “You don’t understand. I’ll never be safe. They’ll never accept me, my life will always be at risk. Even if people from school or the city do accept me. I’ll always be hiding or running away because I could end up in prison forever. I hate myself for being like this.”

When I heard this my heart broke into a million pieces, I couldn’t believe that someone would fear for his life just because of his sexual orientation. After some hours of hiding, Ukufa was finally able to go home, a place where he believed he would be saved. When he arrived home his family was crying, they told him that he was a disgrace to them and that they would prefer a dead son over a gay one. His parents said that he had a demon inside of him and that they would get it out one way or another.

My best friend’s world was crumbling and I tried everything I could to make it better. For him, every single day became the worst day of his life. He had an invisible weight on his back that he couldn’t take out. Life at school became hell, his friends now hated him. Every day the older boys at school would look for him to beat him up or make fun of him. He stopped going to school because he couldn’t take being in this situation. He used to leave his house and stay at a park until it was time to go back home. Before he came out of the closet, going home was something pleasant, something he looked forward to. But now, being home was unbearable. His family would verbally and physically abuse him because of their opinion towards homosexuality. The only person that still showed him love and support in his life, was me. The only problem was that I lived in a different country.

The morning of December the 15 th Ukufa called me. He

was crying his heart out. I could barely understand what he was saying until he calmed down and say; “They just kicked me out of the house. My mom threw a bible at me and then she threw all of my stuff out of the window. They said they didn’t want me anymore. They said I shouldn’t exist. Maybe they are right. All I cause is a pain to my family and they don’t deserve it.”

When he finished that sentence he hanged up the phone. I called him and texted him numerous times but he didn’t answer.

The day passed and he still wasn’t answering. I texted his sister to see if she knew something but she said she was at school and didn’t know or care. I spent the whole day crying and I didn’t eat due to the anxiety I had because I didn’t know what was going on with my dearest friend and there was nothing I could do to help. I was worried because he didn’t have a place to stay now that he was kicked out of his home. I didn’t want him living on the streets especially being so young. I never imagined things would be much worse than not finding a place to stay.

Late that night I got a call. It was Ukufa’s sister. I suddenly felt a pain on my chest that I couldn’t explain. I knew something wasn’t right. She said that she was calling me because she knew how much I cared about her brother and thought I deserved to know what happened to him. She told me that her family went out to eat to celebrate that they had gotten rid of Ukufa. When they went back home they saw that someone had forced the entry of their house. They thought it was a thief until they went inside and saw Ukufa. He was hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the living room. He gave them what they wanted, to get rid of him forever.

When she said that he was dead, a part of me died. I felt dizzy, I was disoriented, my sight went blurry and my knees

went weak. The pain I felt was almost physical and it wouldn’t go away. I felt empty inside. Not only was my best friend gone, but he was also gone because of me. He was gone because I told him that if he wanted to come out he should. He was gone because I told him everything would be alright. He was gone because I wasn’t a good enough friend to help him. He was gone because I didn’t go there when he needed me. He was gone because I wasn’t there for him as I should have. I was his best friend, I should have been able to help him, to keep him alive. Instead, all I did was lead him into his own grave.

I didn’t leave my house for a month. I was barely eating and only got out of bed when I had to. Everything reminded me of him, even the most innocent and banal of things. Every time the pain was there. The pain of him being gone.The pain of him being gone because of me. I truly hated myself, not only because of what happened to him but also because I was like him. After that month I began going out but the pain and guilt were still there. I used to go out to watch movies or to eat but after what happened I just wanted to go out and do things to ease my pain. I changed, people didn’t even recognize me.

I began going out to parties. The ones I went to weren’t the type of gatherings other thirteen-year-olds would go to. When I started going to those celebrations the worst thing I would do was take a shot of alcohol and it would be enough. After some weeks taking a shot wasn’t enough so I began drinking as much as the eighteen-year-olds that were there. I began partying every weekend and getting as drunk as I could. Not only did I begin drinking, but I also began kissing every boy I could to try to make myself feel attracted to them, it didn’t work. Even after getting drunk every weekend, the pain was there. I needed something stronger. I began doing drugs. The same thing that happened with the alcohol happened with the drugs I took. At first, I started smoking weed occasionally

but it wasn’t enough so I began smoking every day. The thing is, it is never actually enough. Therefore, I began doing coke, 2CB, popper, lean, MDMA, and shrooms. I became addicted. There was not a single day in which I didn’t drink or use and every weekend I went to these get-togethers and got as high and as drunk as possible.

The pain I used to feel the weeks after his death shifted into numbness. I managed to take the pain away by intoxicating my body but then there was something worse than feeling pain, not feeling anything at all. I wanted to feel something again. I thought that maybe increasing the number of drugs I used would work or that cutting and burning myself would make me feel something, it didn’t. I continued destroying my body, going to places I shouldn’t go to, and doing things that were not right. I didn’t have any type of limits.

One day, I hit rock bottom. As I had been doing for months, I went to a party at a house of someone I didn’t know. There I began drinking and doing MDMA as I would do at most parties. As every weekend I got so intoxicated that I wasn’t even able to walk. The only difference was that this time I was alone, the friend I was with had fallen asleep and there was no one to look after me. Two guys that were approximately twenty years old and that I had never spoken to, noticed that I was alone and that I was extremely high and drunk. They took me into one of the bathrooms and raped me, I wasn’t able to stop them nor scream for help.

I hated myself so much that I thought I deserved what had happened to me and that it was my fault. I couldn’t see a tangible future for myself, I felt hopeless. The day after it happened I tried killing myself by an overdose but a friend arrived soon enough to save me. As crazy as it might sound, trying to commit suicide was what saved my life. It helped

me realize that I actually needed help and I was finally willing to receive it.

I began going to therapy every week and things slowly began to change. My psychiatrist recommended me to do social work. When I started doing social work I met some incredible people that became my friends. Even though they hadn’t known me for a long time, they were there for me every step of the way, even when things got dark. I will forever be thankful to them and with my doctors for the support, love, and guidance they gave me. I hope to someday help someone the way they helped me. What happened to Ukufa is something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone but that critical moment is what motivated me to try and teach people that everyone deserves love, respect, and acceptance regardless of their differences. I think humans are like little shattered pieces of glass, all odd and misplaced, but glittering, shining in the sunlight, and some of us, just some of us, reflect little rainbows, and thankfully, I get to glimmer in the sun and give back my light in seven colors, full of pride. I met some people just like me and discovered a community, a safe place, a worldwide family where you will always find someone that understands what you are going through, that will accept you, guide you, and help you however they can. Now, due to my best friend and my personal experience, I am an advocate of the LGBT community and our rights. My dream is to be able to live on a planet where everyone can embrace themselves without being judged or discriminated against, and I will do my best to try to fulfill my dream.