WeeklySA_AdminMINDSET: How does it feel to be gay in an environment where homophobia is mundane and rampant, and where gays are silenced, ridiculed, and assaulted in everyday life?
By Promise Frank Ejiofor
It is no longer news that much of contemporary Africa is homophobic. As of 2023, more than 30 African states criminalize same-sex relations with punishment ranging from life imprisonment to death. Arguments against the legitimation of homosexuality in the continent are various and frequent in popular culture.
African homophobes invariably posit that homosexuality is culturally—traditionally un-African; that it is biologically or scientifically antithetical to the survival of Africans; and that in its religious manifestation, it invites the wrath of supernatural beings.
The contentions of African homophobes to interdict same-sex relations in the continent—as in Ghana’s recent draconian anti-gay bill and Uganda’s Anti-Homosexuality Act of 2023—are not merely simplistic, they are profoundly misguided. Amid these disputations, what is generally left out of discussions of same-sex relations, however, is the everyday lived experiences of homophobia in parts of Africa where homosexual identity is anathema. This is precisely what is captured in the outstanding romantic film directed by Babatunde Apalowo, All the Colours of the World Are Between Black and White.
Set in Lagos, the life of the protagonist Bambino—a delivery driver who ekes out an existence in a low-income neighbourhood—takes us through the everyday experiences of gays in a homophobic milieu in the post colony.
Through Bambino’s experiences, we get a glimpse of how homophobia is not so much an abstract phenomenon but a traumatic daily occurrence: gays are assaulted and gayness is ridiculed in everyday life. Precisely because of this atmosphere of generalized hostility toward homosexuality, Bambino’s sexual identity oscillates between self-abnegation and self-restraint throughout the film.
He neither accepts nor denies his sexuality; his life is a constant struggle to navigate his diverse relationships without arousing public resentment or suspicion that could jeopardize his physical security. Bambino’s life is that of an ordinary gay person in an anti-gay environment in the postcolony.
Bambino’s self-abnegation is evident in his daily interactions with Ifeyinwa—a neighbor of the opposite sex—who falls in love with him without any comprehension whatsoever as to why Bambino cannot reciprocate her love. Despite being aware of his sexual identity, Bambino does not disclose it to Ifeyinwa. Instead, he remains in denial and goes so far as to get intimate with her in an attempt to please her—an activity that turns out to be disappointing for both of them. Bambino’s intimacy with Ifeyinwa means nothing to him. He wrestles to rid himself of his sexuality—or, to be more precise, to convince himself that he could become other than what he is.
When Bambino encounters Bawa—a gay photographer—with whom he falls in love and shares joys and sorrows, we notice that there is excessive self-restraint. Evidently, they both enjoy each other’s company and can spontaneously talk about their lives and sexual identity but Bambino consistently rejects Bawa’s romantic gestures. Indeed, as a consequence of Bawa’s frustrations with Bambino’s self-restraint and refusal of sexual intimacy, we witness the repercussions of being gay in an anti-gay locality.
When Bambino is abruptly assaulted by a homophobic mob, we come to comprehend that his excessive self-restraint, much like his self-abnegation is a measured reaction to the social world that circumscribes people like him. He is a victim of the tyranny of anti-gay irrationality pervasive in much of the post colony.
The film effectively disrupts the narrative that gay people are “abnormal” people who harm society precisely because of their sexual orientation. Like most people, Bambino is conspicuously normal and embedded in myriad networks of healthy relationships: he has aspirations to become the manager of the logistics company he works for; he is profoundly generous to his neighbour, Mama, who survives on a meagre income; he revels in the pleasures of the mind; his sexual identity does not preclude him from nurturing relationships with men and women alike; and, of course, he has his disappointments and trauma.
The film effectively humanizes gays by underscoring that, in a homophobic setting, it is not homosexuals who should be considered a problem to be addressed but the social mores against homosexuality that condemn gay people to emotional pain. Homophobia produces psychic torture—and the film successfully penetrates the interiority of Bambino to give us a fuller picture of what it means to have one’s sexuality socially sanctioned.
Despite the achievements of the film, however, it risks projecting a single—and simplistic—narrative of the lives of gay people. Gays in Africa are multifarious—they have different temperaments and are of different social classes; there is no single way to be gay in an anti-gay environment.
Whereas some gays may choose self-abnegation or self-restraint as a strategy to navigate anti-gay settings depending upon the specifics of their circumstances, others may decide to confront the social structure through establishing and participating in, social movements or clubs to alter the order of things.
Indeed, the film circumvents the repertoires of resistance that gay people utilize to counteract homophobia in everyday life. A balanced narrative would thus feature not merely mental pain but also the plethora of spaces gays carve out for themselves to embrace their sexual identities, resist structural violence, and transcend the boundaries of their social worlds.
Overall, All the Colours of the World Are Between Black and White is lucid in its presentation of the real challenges that gay people face in much of the African continent. It is innovative in large part because it lays bare the lived experience of the social injustice of homophobia, compels us to connect and empathize with marginalized people and surreptitiously points us to resist social mores that do not serve the interests of those who identify differently.
It is a film that reminds us why anti-gay legislation should be relegated to the dustbin of history, why unjust social norms should be discarded, and a masterpiece that should be seen by anyone concerned about the impact of homophobia on the emotional life of gay people in Africa.
- Promise Frank Ejiofor is a doctoral student in development studies at the University of Cambridge, where he is a Gates Cambridge Scholar. The article was sourced from Africa is a Country, a features site of opinion, analysis, and new writing on and from the African left.
Comment
MASEMOLA GOOD COP FOR PEACEFUL TIMES
The relentless reign of terror wreaked upon the community of the Joburg west township of Riverlea is excruciatingly painful and appalling.
For months, this poor community has found itself caught up in the terror and mayhem perpetrated by marauding gangs at nearby disused mine shafts and dumps, going about their unlawful business in possession of AK-47s as if in the Wild West.
Gunshots fired nightly from the dumps have placed residents under a constant siege of fear and helplessness, and no one to look to for protection amid the failure of the local police to come to their rescue.
Yet, their terrifying experience is a microcosm of the lawlessness currently tearing many parts of this country apart – especially the communities living neighbourhoods plagued by illegal mining. It is cold comfort that police are clearly swamped by rampant and ubiquitous crime, and no match for the hardware and firepower brandished by these mining gangs.
What more the many communities frightened out of their wits by the bravado and brazen display of armoury by these gangs who have no respect for life.
Our society is undoubtedly in the relentless grip of something much bigger than we think here – and the Government is disappointingly sleeping through it all, dragging their feet to tackle a monster that is clearly bent on destroying our country. What about the big fish abetting this criminal enterprise, which is clearly buttressed by a conglomeration of elements in the country’s criminal justice system, some rogue politicians and other untouchable elements in our society.
There is even talk that some mining companies are in on it, as well, encouraging a parallel system of mining that feeds off each other, to avoid taxes. If true, this kind of racket requires a multi-disciplinary intervention to nip in the bud, once and for all.
No other country would tolerate such grand-scale sabotage of its infrastructure, culture of impunity and nonchalant banditry. Needless, public confidence in the capacity of the law to stamp out this malaise is almost zero. More so, hearing a hapless SAPS National Commissioner Fani Masemola the other day, confessing police are no match against mining mafias festooning our country. When a police boss publicly concedes incapacity in the face of onslaught by dangerous thugs, who does the terrified public turn to?
Who is the winner of this battle, ultimately? Not the law, of course. Indeed, it is the criminals as they walk into the sunset with bagfuls of unwrought, ill-gotten gold, guns blazing while dancing with the wolfs who wilfully abet their nefarious business in our society.
About corrupt police, someone once said: “If you have bought the law enforcement department, then you have done nothing wrong when you wilfully break multiple laws.”
Could this be the reason these motherless marauders are so fearless? Should we then be surprised that it took so long for the law to intervene on their behalf, albeit no sooner?
