By Daniel Kipchumba
Nakuru County, Kenya: It is a gloomy afternoon in Naivasha, Nakuru County, as we sit with “James” (not his real name) in one of the hotels in town. The grey and gloomy weather ironically matches his dilemma. James works as a lecturer in one of the Kenyan public universities and is contemplating whether to come out as gay.
This 54-year-old father of three who identifies as they/them are afraid, so they prefer to meet far away from where they live in Nakuru city, fearful that they might meet with someone who knows them during this encounter. They were born in Kericho, where cultural norms are deeply entrenched and guide their ethnic community; perhaps this could be another reason why they are hesitant to come out openly as gay at home and at their workplace.
Neither James’ wife, children, friends, nor colleagues know about their sexual orientation; they are obviously terrified of the repercussions at their workplace if they choose to come out. They don’t believe any of their workmates will support them.
“It is time for me to come out openly both at home and at work, but I am apprehensive about what might follow,” they say with an unsure smile.
James has been working in this institution for 17 years. They fear their situation might also affect their terminal dues if the institution terminates their employment. Another concern for them is finding a new job if they are shown the door. On the home front, balancing the responsibilities of a father and a husband has not been a great challenge for them because they harbor their secret deep within themselves. However, they have to deal with guilt for being someone no one knows about and the consequences of their impending decision.
Fortunately, James says that they have the process figured out and seem ready for the backlash if there is any. They have lived a double life for 17 years, and they can’t wait to experience the relief that awaits them on the other side of their decision.
“I plan to start from home by telling my wife and then watching her reaction. If she is comfortable and doesn’t cause drama, then I will be courageous enough to let my children and maybe other people. However, if she doesn’t support me, I will leave, but I will continue fulfilling my family responsibilities,” they say as they look at their cup of tea scanning the drizzling rain keenly.
James believes it would be a grand betrayal if the family decides to expose, them after they open up to them, knowing they are not ready to deal with the wider family and social circles. They would prefer to come out on their terms. Sadly, James doesn’t have access to a support group that could help them with the journey they are about to undertake but is banking on LGBTQI organizations for access to such groups or even to therapists. I notice how their face becomes more pensive almost once they say this. They admit, “I know there will be discrimination and shaming, and I will lose friends and colleagues in the process.”
It is difficult to imagine how their life will change socially and professionally. Then they throw in a slice of hope as they believe that if more queer people come out openly in their workplaces, it would lessen the heaviness of situations similar to theirs. But for now, they recognize that they have to soldier alone.
Yvonne Muthoni, an LGBTQI feminist activist focused on fostering private-sector partnerships to advance queer rights and sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR), highlights several strategies to address the challenges faced by sexual minorities in the workplace.
“Fostering a culture of belonging where every employee feels valued, training employees in Diversity Equity and Inclusion (DEI) and building a mindful culture where every employee respects each other, are some safety measures organizations can take to cushion the sexual minorities,” says Muthoni.
She adds that despite the challenges faced by these minorities, there is hope because some Kenyan organizations have taken up the issue of inclusivity seriously and are implementing it in their workplaces. Muthoni notes that this has been possible thanks to normalizing conversations about workplace inclusion and formulating and implementing policies on sexual orientation and gender identity.
Lelo Koinange, a people and culture expert, says that although inclusivity in workplaces has been achieved to some extent, more needs to be done. She notes that organizations should move away from the traditional requirement that one of the dependents for example on their medical cover be a spouse and instead allow people to attach dependents of their own choice, not necessarily strictly female spouses.
She further advocates for intentional consideration of the queer community during staff recruitment, developing policies that are supportive, creating safe spaces for queer individuals, offering the necessary support, and creating awareness.
Koinange says inclusive organizations stand to benefit from an authentic and motivated workforce that is protected from any form of violence and stigma. This, she says, will create a productive and rich environment.
Despite the slow progress in acceptance within Kenyan organizations, advocacy efforts by LGBTQI groups for greater workplace inclusion offer hope for James and other queer professionals, envisioning a future where workplaces become safe and welcoming spaces for all.
However, Koinange suggests caution is needed for individuals in a similar situation to James but recognizes that being honest to oneself makes for a better employee.
“Just be yourself and come out openly, but be aware that there will be pushback from people around you,” Koinange states.
James says they look forward to the time when workplaces will be inclusive, supportive and free from judgment and discrimination. For now, their plan to come out is still on despite the expected backlash from the workmates and the society.
This story is supported by the Thomson Reuters Foundation, Reporting on Diversity, Inclusion, and LGBTQI+.
