Navigating the Challenges of Queer Identity in Modern Africa

I broke a woman’s heart because I was too scared to live in my truth.
That’s what shame does. It destroys everything in its path.

You think you’re protecting yourself.
You think you’re protecting your family.
But really, you’re building a prison with no doors.

One lie to your parents.
One lie to your friends.
One lie to your church.
And suddenly, you are trapped inside a version of yourself that doesn’t even exist.

At first, the lies feel small.
A smile when someone asks about your partner
A nod when a pastor preaches that people like you are sinners.
A laugh at the cruel jokes your friends make about the very thing you are.

But those small lies don’t stay small.
They grow teeth.
They grow roots.
They grow into a marriage you should never have entered.
Into friendships where you are never fully seen.
Into family gatherings where you play the perfect child while your soul quietly dies.

Dishonesty is not harmless.
It multiplies. It rots.
Until you don’t know where the performance ends and where you begin.

And then one day, you look around and realize you have built an entire life that does not belong to you.
A wife who thinks she knows you.
A husband who thinks he see you.
In-laws who think you are the perfect person.
Children who will grow up learning a version of you that isn’t even real.
A whole community clapping for a mask.

Behind every smile is a bruise.
Behind every “congratulations” is a scream.
Behind every photo of happiness is a person who cannot breathe.

That was me.
Drowning in applause for a performance that was killing me.

And yet — even then — there is hope.
Even then, it is not too late.

It doesn’t matter how far you’ve gone.
It doesn’t matter how many lies you’ve told.
It doesn’t matter if you are 25 or 55.
It doesn’t matter if you’ve already built a marriage, a family, a whole reputation.

You can still stop.
You can still turn back.
You can still choose honesty.

Yes, it will hurt.
Yes, it will break things.
But broken truth is still better than polished lies , because lies don’t protect you.
They bury you alive.

And truth — even when it costs you everything — will give you back yourself.
🌈 What’s the worst part of living a lie?