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My Story as a Syrian Gay refugee – 3 –

17 May

LGBT3Photo by Dalia Khamissy

PS: TEXTS were written in Syrian Arabic and translated into English.

Ali and I were had a superficial relationship and at that time, Ali was being raised at an orphanage. After a while he was adopted by a well-known family, and our relationship became more serious and we got more and more attached to each other.

One day, while we were making love at my house, my father felt we were up to something and came into my room suddenly and found us together. We were subjected to the worst kind of beatings and insults and hurtful words…these were some of the toughest moments in my life, and they happened just because we both were what we were “gay.”

My dad threw us out of the house, kicking me out against my will and he would not accept the situation at all. He swore he never wanted to see my face again, and that if I ever came back, he would kill me.

The news that we were gay reached Ali’s father, and he is someone who has a lot of influence and power with the state, and is able to do whatever he wants. He decided he would kill us both. We started running and hiding, and were exposed to threats and dangerous situations in Damascus especially when the situation deteriorated in the country and the war started.

We decided to escape to Lebanon because it was the closest country, but started facing problems there because we could not work or live in one place if we did not want to be found. We could not find a way to get enough money to spend or to eat at the very least. We ended up on the streets for months, roaming from place to place and depending on people’s charity.

What we were afraid of did not happen. We got to live together and stay in one place, and we were able to have the life we wanted, together. However, at any moment, due to the power Ali’s father has and his influential position, they may find out where we are.

We registered at the UNHCR in the hope that our freedom and emancipation will be possible with their help, but the person who lives on so little hope is like the one waiting for water to sprout in a desert.

I may be killed in a second because of something that was born with me, because of what I am. If my dad and Ali’s cannot accept us for what we are and for how God created us, it may not be the case for everyone. Not all will want to kill us for being gays.

We will reach a place where there are people who will accept us the way we are and where we will not be found, but until we get to that place, we may end up in another place, under the ground.

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