Belief Systems and Their Impact on LGBTQ+ Communities in Africa

Last year, after an 8-hour flight to Nairobi, I turned to greet the man seated next to me and wished him a safe journey for his connecting flight. He smiled and responded, “Inshallah, brother, we shall arrive safely.” At that moment, I didn’t know he was Muslim, and based on the way he was enjoying his vodka during the flight, I made assumptions about his faith that didn’t align with the response I received. This experience made me realize how deeply ingrained the belief systems we grow up with are—they shape our lives in ways we often fail to comprehend.

Understanding and navigating these belief systems with a conscious mind and an awakened spirit is essential when we face uncomfortable conversations, especially when our identity, humanity, and existence as queer individuals are questioned or threatened. These belief systems permeate our social interactions, from prayers before meals to participating in various ceremonies—baptisms, weddings, funerals, and more. Even in everyday exchanges, like responding to the question “How are you?”, we often lean on spiritual responses to avoid addressing our true feelings.

For those living in a predominantly Christian society, how often have you heard the story of Sodom and Gomorrah invoked by friends, relatives, or even politicians to talk about LGBTQ people? How frequently are the Bible or Quran used to justify the belief that queer existence is unnatural? This points to a pressing need to understand how to navigate these conversations, especially when it comes to our safety and acceptance.

However, this task is not an easy one. Many of us have distanced ourselves from our faith and spirituality, or still struggle to reconcile our queer identity with our beliefs. Sometimes, this is a conscious awareness, and other times, it’s unconscious. When someone says, “Being gay, lesbian, or trans is a sin—remember Sodom and Gomorrah?” what is your response?

Your response is not only what you say, remember, communication is made up of 93% unspoken words—your body language, your tone, your silence, your reactions—they matter just as much as what you say. These nonverbal cues express the complexity of your inner world: your insecurities, confusion, anger, shame, or ambiguity. Being aware of this is crucial. It requires us to do the internal work first—acknowledging and confronting the shame or internalized homophobia we have inherited from our religious environments.

Unless we create spaces for this self-exploration, we risk missing the opportunity to contribute to a larger cultural shift. We need to examine how these beliefs influence our well-being and existence. This will shape our language and our approach to these conversations, making it easier to engage in constructive dialogues with our loved ones, religious communities, and society at large. It is through understanding their perspectives—how they view the world and their capacity for understanding—that we can find common ground. A shared language can break down barriers and help us regain confidence as a community to express our beliefs, concerns, and advocacy.

As Dr. Simon Aihiokhai argues, building communities means going to the margins, questioning the actions of the center. This can become easier if we are able to use the same language. Our work transcends just spirituality, religion, or faith. At its core, it is an embodiment of love, dignity, and humanity.