Help Abel Bbongo, a Gay Refugee, Heal and Survive

"Hello, my name is Abel. I am a 24‑year‑old gay man, human rights defender, and refugee from Uganda.

My story is long, painful, and still unfinished — but I want to share it, because your help could mean the difference between despair and survival.

I grew up in the small Ugandan village of Nakibole, in Buikwe District. My childhood was simple, even happy, until the weight of who I am — and how the world around me saw me — began to close in.

I realized I was gay when I was about 15. In school, I formed quiet, secret relationships with older boys who treated me with kindness in a society that condemned me. In Uganda, being gay isn’t just “unaccepted” — it’s seen as evil.

In 2017, my world collapsed.

During a school vacation, my mother caught me with another boy. Her shock and anger were so intense that her blood pressure spiked, and she collapsed. She was rushed to the hospital, but she did not survive.

At her funeral, grief turned into rage. My family and the entire community blamed me for her death. They said I had killed my own mother. I was brutally beaten, and my siblings and I were thrown out of our home.

From that day forward, I had no safety.

I ran from one place to another — to friends’ homes, to villages where no one knew me. I took work in sugarcane plantations, barely surviving. Even there, I faced exploitation. My boss discovered my secret, pressured me sexually, and when I gave in out of fear, he raised my pay — but it was not a choice, it was survival.

Then, in 2019, at an end‑of‑year party, we were seen together in an intimate moment. A village boy raised the alarm. A mob gathered. We were attacked. I barely escaped with my life.

I fled again.

By January 2020, I had reached the Malaba border, where a man told me the Red Cross in Kenya might help. They sent me to Kakuma Refugee Camp.

But Kakuma was not safety.

From the first day I arrived, I was attacked almost daily. I carry scars — some on my body, some deeper — that will never fully heal. Kenyan authorities ignored the violence. I lost hope waiting for help that never came.

In 2024, I fled again — this time to another country (which I cannot disclose for my safety), hoping UNHCR there might help me where Kenya had failed.

Recently, my story became intertwined with others.

Three other young gay men, each from different East African nations, were also forced to run for their lives. They have faced many of the same horrors — mobs, beatings, family rejection, and the daily fear that simply being who they are could cost them everything.

When they had nowhere to go, I had to open the door to my small, self‑built hut and take them in. I know what they have been through.

Now four of us are sharing our fragile shelter. We have each other, but we have almost nothing else."

This fundraiser will be used for:

A note from the campaign organizer:

My name is Jeremy, and I am managing this fundraiser for Abel because where he is now, he cannot safely or directly run a campaign himself.

For Abel and the others' safety, the photo I have asked them to send me, and have used, is from behind only. In the country where they are currently in exile, being openly gay could still mean harassment, imprisonment, or even death by murder. When Abel is safe, we hope to share more of his and the others' lives — and their faces — with all of you.

Every donation will go directly to Abel’s living expenses, medical care, and legal needs. He will dispense the payments to the others. I trust Abel.

Your support — whether through a donation or simply sharing this page — means more than words can say.

Thank you for reading Abel’s story, and for standing with him in this fight for life.