Lesbian woman finds liberation in conservative Malawi

In Malawi’s Central Region district of Dedza, Tamanda (not her real name) had a seemingly typical childhood. Yet, beneath the surface, she grappled with the weight of a profound secret; living between her true self and society’s expectations.

As we plan for our interview, Tamanda, 19, suggests meeting at a Blantyre City park. This quiet area away from the buzzing CBD is surrounded by ancient trees she says “safeguard her from society’s biases and intrusive gaze”. Tamanda is a lesbian and says she faces constant ridicule for her sexual orientation.

Same-sex sexual activity is prohibited under Malawi’s Penal Code, which criminalises acts of “carnal knowledge against the order of nature” and “gross indecency” with up to 14 years imprisonment.

Tamanda’s journey to self-discovery began at a young age, and the revelation of her sexual orientation triggered a wave of disapproval within her Christian family.

“When my cousin found out that I was lesbian, she took drastic measures, transferring me from the girls-only school where I had been enrolled to a boys and girls institution,” Tamanda remembers. “When this failed to bring about the desired change, she orchestrated an intervention involving my entire family and members of our church. They would gather at our house, engaging in fervent prayers with the hope that, through divine intervention, I would cease to be a lesbian.”

This method used on Tamanda—conversion therapy, also known as reparative therapy—encompasses a range of dangerous and discredited practices that falsely claim to alter a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity or expression according to the US-based advocacy group Human Rights Campaign.

As the prayers persisted, Tamanda grew disconnected from her family and friends. With no support system, she found herself spiraling into a deep emotional void, wrestling with loneliness and depression.

“The experience I went through traumatised me. I was subjected to derogatory names and compelled to conceal my true self, even in front of my own family. I faced threats of potential arrest simply for being a lesbian,” she recalled.

When the burden became too overwhelming, leading to a suicide attempt, Tamanda made the difficult decision to run away from home in 2022 and settled down in Blantyre where she met the woman who would become her partner.

“The first day we met in person was at an event by Nyasa Rainbow Alliance. I didn’t know anything about her, but she knew a little about me through a mutual friend. I remember she complimented me on my work as a writer, and that’s how we eventually bonded as a couple,” Tamanda said.

Tamanda’s shift in demeanor when speaking about her partner is visible. The worry and longing for her family disappear, replaced by a genuine smile. “My partner encouraged me to improve and become a better person, which is why she pushed me to return to school and complete my secondary education. After dating for over a year, we now live together as a married couple,” she said.

Although they wear wedding bands and consider themselves married, same-sex marriage remains illegal under Malawi law.

Tamanda’s optimistic perspective highlights the potential of acceptance and love in preventing future mental health struggles among people who have endured trauma.

Ample research indicates that LGBTQI+ individuals often face poorer mental health outcomes compared to their heterosexual and cis-gender counterparts. Additionally, traumatic experiences during childhood and adolescence can have lasting adverse effects on their mental and physical health in later years of life.

Eric Umar, a psychologist from the Kamuzu University of Health Sciences, echoes what many scholars have already discovered: “Our relationship styles are dictated by various experiences, largely childhoods. Negativity received during the formative years shapes how people relate with others and has a deep effect.”

“In addition, negativity faced in adulthood from family and loved ones as well as self-inflicted negativity (comparing the self with what is considered ideal and finding yourself falling short) impacts on how one relates with other people,” he added.

Zikani Nyirenda, who uses they/them pronouns and serves as executive director of the Lilongwe-based NGO Gender Collective, says Tamanda’s story mirrors those of many lesbian and bisexual women in Malawi they have worked with.

“It’s common for people who identify as lesbian or bisexual to face discrimination from family and society. While others are forced into conversion therapy, some go through [so-called] ‘corrective rape’ arranged by their own families,” Nyirenda said. “When these women come to us, we try our best to assist them together with our partner organisations. In some cases, we have managed to offer psychological and financial support.”

Despite the strained relationship with her family, Tamanda is grateful to have found a supportive community of LGBTIQ+ people in Blantyre who accept her without judgement. She boldly declares, “I am a lesbian woman, and I am not afraid to say that anymore. If anybody were to ask me about my sexual orientation, I would be proud to say that I am a lesbian.”