LGBTQ+

Transphobia and homophobia are common in Nigeria, which has no legal protections for LGBTQ+ people. The Same-Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act of 2014 reinforced existing colonial-era laws that criminalized same-sex activity as “carnal knowledge against the order of nature,” punishable by up to 14 years imprisonment. The 2014 act went further than the original laws by banning marriages and civil unions, the operation of gay organizations and social clubs, public expressions of LGBTQ+ identity and advocacy of LGBTQ+ rights. In northern Nigeria, where Sharia law operates, homosexual activity can be punishable by death by stoning. There is no specific provision in the 2014 law covering trans people, but it is not possible to legally change your gender in the country and gender-affirming health care is hard to access. Trans Nigerians seeking hormone therapy typically obtain drugs through international pharmacies online and take them at home without guidance from medical professionals. Cross-dressing is prohibited under Sharia law in the north and the Nigerian military; in recent years, some lawmakers have attempted to pass a federal ban.

Area Mama’s murder took place amid rapidly spreading misinformation about LGBTQ+ rights in Nigeria, resulting in a surge in transphobia and homophobia. On social media, fans mourned the loss of Area Mama, whose content provided one of the few examples of a publicly out trans person living in the country. “I remember how unapologetic she was about being herself, and how beautifully her energy radiated every time she came on screen,” said Victoria, a Lagos-based queer woman who was in law school in Abuja at the time of Area Mama’s murder. Almost 6,000 people signed a petition calling for the Nigerian Ministry of Justice to take “immediate and decisive action” to thoroughly investigate her murder, categorize it as a hate crime, end violence against LGBTQ+ people and advocate for legislative reforms. At the same time, Nigerians posted hateful messages on Area Mama’s videos, misgendering her and saying that she deserved to die. No one expects the petition to put significant pressure on authorities or the government. Members of Nigeria’s queer community have come to accept that they only have each other — and that to live safely as themselves, they have to do so underground.

Organizations that support the rights of trans and non-binary people are sometimes able to operate more openly because the 2014 act lacks a specific provision against trans people. Creme De La Crème (CDLC), for example, a Nigerian transgender and non-binary rights foundation, has been able to operate despite the hostile environment. The organization works with Nigeria’s National Human Rights Commission, a non-governmental group that promotes and protects human rights in the country, to educate state bodies, such as the Nigerian military, on the experiences of trans Nigerians. Even so, Franklin Ejiogu, CDLC’s executive director, said the organization’s offices and safe shelters have been raided repeatedly. CDLC has moved headquarters on multiple occasions and is now looking to buy its own properties to safeguard against threats from landlords and the public that can lead to raids.

Rather than lobby for national policy change, which they know is a losing battle given the government’s staunch anti-LGBTQ+ stance, many organizations prioritize smaller-scale efforts to improve the daily lives of queer folks. They run education initiatives to improve representation and stop the spread of misinformation, including hosting in-person panels, which they publicize as relating to “equality” rather than LGBTQ+ rights specifically. They also publish online material on the queer experience in Nigeria. In one episode of Q Convos, a podcast featuring conversations on queer identity and culture run by The Initiative for Equal Rights (TIERs), five queer Nigerians discuss the prevalence of kito, a slang term for people who entrap, assault and extort queer people through dating apps, as well as other luring mechanisms.