deported for being gay

1998: I am a British gay man. In 1990 I went to Tanzania as a volunteer, to teach at a college in the small coastal town of Bagamoyo. I had expected to be celibate, but I met a younger, Tanzanian man, with whom I started an affair. We tried to be discreet, but in a small, gossipy community this was impossible. Also, my friend became increasingly open about his sexuality and his relationship with me.

In Tanzania male homosexuality is illegal, under a penal code inherited from the British. However, a blind eye is turned to many irregularities and at first nobody seemed too bothered.

In 1993 my stint at the college ended. I decided to stay in the country if I could. I got involved in a project to build a small tourist lodge in Bagamoyo. Somebody else provided a beach plot, while I financed the enterprise.

About this time the name-calling started. Youths would shout "Msenge!" at my boyfriend. Msenge is Swahili for a "passive" or "femme" gay man.

Because of his reputation his landlady threw him out and for a short while he lived with me. Around town it was said that we had married and had held a wedding reception in the social club of the local Fisheries Institute (then thought to be the smartest venue in Bagamoyo).

Some weeks after he had moved out of my house, at about 4 o’clock one morning, I heard voices on the veranda. A squad of policemen, some armed, and accompanied by an immigration officer, demanded to search the house. They said my friend was wanted in connection with a stabbing. As he was not there, I let them search. They left empty-handed.

Next day my boyfriend went to the police station, where they asked him about our relationship. He gave nothing away. The immigration officer then questioned me. He said I was being investigated by a body called the district defence and security committee. He would protect me - for a fee. I gave him nothing and, after meetings with the local security and police chiefs, it looked as though the matter had been dropped.

Not long after this a hysterical rumour began to circulate in parts of Tanzania. A bogeyman called Popobawa was said to be raping men in their sleep. On the island of Zanzibar at least one man was killed by a mob on suspicion of being Popobawa. (The same phenomenon had previously occurred on Zanzibar in the 1960s.)

This was the name by which I became known in Bagamoyo. For the rest of my time there a day would not pass without some youth shouting it at me in the street.

In 1995 my application for a businessman’s two-year residence permit was rejected. I was given no reason, nor time to wind up my affairs. I took the immigration department to court. After two years I lost the case on a technicality and appealed to the Minister of Home Affairs. One day in February 1998, while still awaiting the minister’s decision, I was summoned on a pretext to the immigration headquarters in Dar es Salaam. There I was placed under guard, taken to a police station, locked in a cell, and put on a plane to Britain the same day.

During my long struggle with Tanzanian bureaucracy, my sexuality was never mentioned in my presence. However, it was constantly referred to behind my back, as my lawyer and other intermediaries discovered. My difficulties were partly caused by certain people in Bagamoyo who wished to take the hotel plot from me. It is not uncommon for foreigners in Tanzania to be deported on a pretext, so that others can profit from their absence.

I was deported as an undesirable alien, and declared a prohibited immigrant. The Tanzanian government did not explain its decision. I complained to my Member of Parliament, who took the matter up with the British Foreign Office. At first they were interested in my case. After raising it with the Tanzanian government a number of times, they were eventually given two reasons for my deportation.

The first reason was my "improper sexual behaviour". The Tanzanian government did not say what it meant by this. The second reason was that I had not fulfilled the investment conditions of my residence status. (This was untrue.) The Foreign Office then said they could not help me further. I protested to my MP, who raised the matter again. However, the response from the FO was that the Tanzanian government had acted in accordance with its own laws.

I had effectively lost my business (which unscrupulous people in Bagamoyo are still trying to wrest from me) and been forced to leave the country that had been my home for over seven years. I realise that I was naïve in expecting different treatment from either government. Within their own terms of reference, it was quite proper for Tanzania to deport a foreigner who was apparently flouting their laws (although I was never charged with an offence).

However, I do have two objections to make. The first is that the Tanzanian authorities are inconsistent in their dealings with homosexuality. Well-connected gays - including foreigners - are left alone. The law is largely ignored until someone in authority chooses to apply it.

My second objection is simply that the law in Tanzania victimises and criminalises gays. It would have been nice if Britain’s Labour government -which professes support for gay rights - had decided to challenge the Tanzanian government on this score.

Ultimately my own case is not very important. Here in Europe I am free to live with another man. Gay Tanzanians are not free. They deserve our support.

Source: ILGA