• Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 22, 2026

Beyond the Colors

HIV in Tunisia: The Silent Epidemic and the Challenges of an Unfinished Struggle

By Rihab Boukhayatia

According to updated data from the Ministry of Health released in December 2025, 7,700 people are living with HIV/AIDS in Tunisia.

The epidemic is spreading with an accelerated rate across North Africa, the Middle East, and within Tunisia itself. Fifteen years ago, around 70 new cases were reported annually; in recent years, however, that figure has risen sharply to between 420 and 430 new cases per year, according to Rim Abdelmalek, Professor of Infectious Diseases at La Rabta Hospital in Tunis.

This significant increase highlights the latent and underdiagnosed nature of this epidemic. Although HIV is a notifiable disease, it remains largely invisible among individuals who have not been tested.

Certain populations are particularly exposed, including men who have sex with men (MSM), sex workers, people who inject drugs (PWID), transgender individuals, and incarcerated persons, according to the National AIDS Control Programme (PNLS) of the Ministry of Health.

HIV prevalence rates within these groups are markedly higher than in the general population, ranging from 12% to 28%. They are estimated to be 12 times higher among sex workers, 13 times higher among transgender individuals, 19 times higher among MSM, and 28 times higher among people who inject drugs.

While this categorisation is necessary for tracking the epidemic and targeting public health interventions, it does not fully reflect the fluidity of human trajectories. A single individual may move among situations over time, sometimes combining multiple risk factors.

The PNLS report emphasises that “some individuals do not belong permanently to a single key population but may, intermittently or temporarily, integrate into another—for example, a person who injects drugs and occasionally engages in sex work, or a sex worker who uses injectable drugs.”

It also highlights the importance of considering gender dynamics among people who inject drugs. Women in this group are more exposed to HIV, partly due to their frequent involvement in sex work.

In addition to these key populations, the PNLS identifies groups deemed “vulnerable”: adolescents, young people, migrants, refugees, and other displaced individuals. Based on its biobehavioural survey, the PNLS notes that adolescents aged 15–19 and young adults aged 19–24 are among those most at risk of contracting HIV. Here, we are talking about a generation that is navigating social media, dating applications, and, in some cases, drug use.

HIV has long been perceived as a problem that only affects so-called vulnerable populations. However, it is now reaching the general population, including students, healthcare professionals, and others. The virus does not discriminate; it circulates silently through risky sexual behaviours that permeate all layers of society.

“In the course of our medical consultations, we are observing an increase in the number of young students and secondary school pupils, indicating a rejuvenation of the epidemic. However, we are also observing the emergence of cases among retirees and older adults,” explains Professor Abdelmalek.

She identifies multiple contributing factors behind the increase in people living with HIV, including drug use, chemsex, oral sex, and ulcerative sexually transmitted infections.

Chemsex is described by several civil society organisations working on HIV and STIs as a major concern. It involves the use of psychoactive substances during sexual activity. Often associated with disinhibition and pleasure, these substances are frequently addictive and include stimulants and euphoric drugs such as cathinones, cocaine, methamphetamine, and MDMA/ecstasy, sometimes combined with ketamine or GHB.

Chemsex sessions are characterised by repeated drug use and prolonged sexual activity lasting several hours or even days. These practices expose participants to multiple risks, including dependency, potentially fatal overdoses, and unprotected sex.

Sami, 38, has been living with HIV for three years. Prior to this change in his life, he did not imagine that he could be affected. Like many people in his generation, he believed that the virus only concerned others, but never himself. The shock was brutal and occurred in a still largely taboo context: chemsex.

At first, it was only about “spicing up” parties, he explains. He was unaware that the substances he consumed to stay awake, feel more confident, and lower inhibitions would make him extremely vulnerable. Sex and stimulants became intertwined, pushing the limits of both body and mind, with protective boundaries nearly erased. He vividly remembers the moment of testing: alone in a room, heart racing, trying to convince himself it was a false positive. The result, however, was clear and final—HIV-positive.

“I felt an urge to run away, to disappear, to punish myself. Then came the shame, the fear of judgement, and anxiety about telling my loved ones,” he recalls.

While Sami was aware of the risks and dismissed them, others—particularly young people—often lack sufficient knowledge about risky sexual practices. Among this population, misinformation and gaps in knowledge contribute significantly to the dissemination of HIV infections.

This is reflected in findings from a 2024 survey conducted by the Tawhida Ben Cheikh Group among 5,837 unmarried young people aged 18 to 29. The study reveals a structural deficit in knowledge related to sexual and reproductive health.

Fewer than half of male respondents and only slightly more than one tenth of female respondents reported using protection during their last sexual encounter. Knowledge of sexually transmitted infections remains limited, particularly among young men and LGBTQIA+ youth.

Women generally demonstrate higher levels of knowledge, but this also highlights persistent gender inequalities in access to information, the negotiation of sexual practices, and autonomy over one’s body.

Violence is another key driver of HIV risk, particularly among migrant populations. Sékou, a 28-year-old transgender woman from Guinea, was ostracised by her family and imprisoned due to her sexual orientation. She experienced blackmail and sexual violence in her home country before fleeing along a long migration route through Mali, Algeria, and Tunisia.

Upon her arrival in Tunis, she was hospitalised for an anal tear caused by these assaults. It was during this hospitalisation that she learned she was HIV-positive. Visibly weakened and emotionally distressed, Sékou recounts her story through tears. Her experience illustrates the extreme vulnerability of transgender migrants exposed to sexual violence, which significantly increases the risk of contracting HIV.

Testing: The First Line of Defence

The number of new HIV cases continues to rise annually. For Bahzed Welyeddine Fitouhi, President of the Tunisian Association for Health Education, this increase also reflects progress: expanded testing. “The more we test, the more cases we detect,” he explains.

He also highlights the expansion of target audiences through awareness campaigns that no longer focus solely on specific groups but address the broader population, including young people and previously undertested groups.

Innovative approaches—such as theatre, podcasts, and activism on social media—have helped reach the general public. As a result, there is now greater awareness of the true scale of the epidemic in Tunisia, which had previously been underestimated due to insufficient monitoring.

However, these improvements do not eliminate persistent barriers to testing, which mean that official figures are likely below real figures. Official data include only individuals who have been tested, diagnosed, and integrated into the healthcare system.

In theory, HIV testing is accessible to everyone in Tunisia. Free and anonymous testing centres exist in 24 locations across the country, and some hospital services also provide testing.

In practice, however, testing uptake remains low—far below the level required to effectively curb the epidemic. Why? Because stigma remains overwhelming.

Fear of judgement, social exclusion, or even retaliation within family or professional environments continues to discourage many individuals from getting tested. 

Punitive laws surrounding certain sexual practices or activities further reinforce this climate of fear. A sex worker or a man who has sex with men, for instance, may fear being identified or stigmatised by the authorities or their own community.

“HIV is still associated with behaviours considered “taboo”, which fuels shame and prejudice. As a result, many people are unaware of their HIV status because they do not get tested, often due to stigma or fear,” Fitouhi explains.

To counter this, it is essential to create “safe spaces” for at-risk populations to encourage testing, notes Karam, a medical resident and volunteer with the Mawjoudin association.

“Even for simple testing, these spaces provide genuine listening and support, whether regarding romantic relationships, sexual issues, or questions of identity and gender orientation that are often misunderstood,” he tells us.

However, such spaces are becoming increasingly rare due to the recent restrictions on civic space. These restrictions have led, among other things, to the closure of the Mawjoudin association’s office, which previously provided support to vulnerable LGBTQIA+ individuals. The closure of such spaces significantly reduces access to testing and undermines the quality of care, which is essential for community trust and engagement.

Health authorities themselves recognise stigma and discrimination as “the main barriers to accessing HIV testing, prevention, and care services.” Approximately 65% of women aged 15 to 49 report having observed discriminatory attitudes related to HIV.

This ostracization leads to late diagnosis and delayed treatment. Individuals who are unaware of their HIV status risk transmitting the virus unknowingly and may experience progression to AIDS with preventable complications.

On a psychosocial level, late diagnosis can trigger anxiety, isolation, and depression, among other invisible yet deep effects. “Unfortunately, late diagnoses are still common. The main causes are lack of awareness of risk-taking, the belief that it only happens to others, lack of regular testing, fear of the unknown, and ignorance of symptoms,” adds Professor Abdelmalek.

Access to Treatment: Access to Treatment: An Uphill Struggle

Stigma also affects access to care. Medical management of PLHIV has improved significantly. Antiretroviral treatments are available free of charge and allow effective viral suppression, reducing both morbidity and transmission risk.

However, inequalities in access persist. Services are centralised in four university hospitals—in Tunis, Sfax, Sousse, and Monastir—creating geographical and financial burdens for individuals in interior regions. For example, a person living with HIV in Kasserine must travel long distances to receive treatment, which is particularly challenging given their health condition. Medication access is another issue. Souhaila Bensaid, President of the Tunisian Association for Positive Prevention (ATP+), reports recent shortages of essential medications in some hospital pharmacies. In addition, patients are sometimes simply redirected to distant facilities to obtain treatment.

Poor management is compounded by ongoing discrimination and breaches of confidentiality in healthcare settings, particularly among paramedical staff. 

These issues These attitudes stem from a lack of knowledge and prejudice, unlike with the medical staff, which is more firmly rooted in scientific principles, points out the president of ATP+.

 People living with HIV report that they are judged more harshly by nurses and healthcare workers, according to a survey by the Pasteur Institute entitled “The care of people living with HIV in healthcare settings: results of a qualitative survey.”

The survey also highlights serious breaches of disclosure protocols and medical confidentiality, as well as the disclosure of HIV status by paramedical staff in the near-total absence of any psychological support.

These are serious ethical and professional breaches. Such practices have profoundly detrimental consequences, not only for patients’ mental and physical health, but also expose them to major disruptions in their personal, family and social lives, which can even put them in danger, according to the authors of the aforementioned study. 

In August 2025, the Ministry of Health issued a directive prohibiting the unnecessary mention of HIV status in non-medically justified documents.

This ministerial intervention followed observations that some healthcare institutions continued to display patients’ HIV status on bedside signs, transfer documents, and medical test requests, practices that violate confidentiality and contribute to stigma and discrimination.

These systemic issues contribute to the interruption of treatment, leading to patients being classified as “lost to follow-up.” For migrants, these challenges are compounded.

Sékou, for example, struggles to adhere to treatment due to racist behaviour from some healthcare staff. “Hostile stares, whispers, and dismissive expressions start as soon as I arrive,” she explains. Language barriers further complicate her access to care. Despite her fragile health, she approaches each medical visit with anxiety, even though it is essential for her survival.

Interruptions in care increase individual health risks and hinder efforts to control the epidemic.

Prevention: Structural Challenges and Social Urgency

The PNLS advocates for a “combined prevention” strategy, integrating behavioural, biomedical, and structural approaches. This includes condom promotion, HIV and STI testing, harm reduction strategies, and antiretroviral-based prevention, all within a framework grounded in social justice and human rights.

However, the implementation of this model faces significant challenges. The system suffers from administrative and financial fragility, directly and critically affecting the daily lives of people living with HIV, says Souhaila Bensaid.

The national programme is severely understaffed, with only one person managing all cases, which weighs heavy on access to treatment. PLHIV often face exhausting administrative procedures and costly travel among institutions to access minimal financial assistance (varying between 20 and 180 Tunisian dinars) or simply to obtain treatment.

The withdrawal of Global Fund support has worsened this situation of precariousness, including the loss of essential assistance such as milk and diapers for affected families. The most vulnerable households are thus left to their devices, explains the president of ATP+.

It also highlights the persistence of stigma within public administrations themselves, where disability-related priorities are no longer systematically upheld.

Responding to the emergency

“Prevention is a central pillar in curbing the rise in new cases. It is essential to train healthcare professionals to integrate preventive approaches into their daily practice and to recognise indicative symptoms. Efforts must also be made to combat stigma and criminalisation, in order to enable effective intervention in certain sectors and among the most vulnerable populations. Promoting regular testing, encouraging the use of PrEP and condoms, ensuring access to single-use syringes without mandatory exchange schemes, strengthening drug policy responses, and providing better support to migrant populations so they are encouraged to seek care and receive appropriate treatment, these are all key priorities” argues Dr Rim Abdelmalek.

Prevention therefore requires a combined medical, educational, and social approach. From a medical perspective, current efforts rely largely on the use of PrEP.

Pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP) is a preventive antiretroviral treatment intended for HIV-negative individuals. It is widely recognised for its high level of effectiveness in preventing HIV infection following exposure to risk. It may be taken either daily or on an event-driven basis, according to a medically supervised regimen. Its prescription requires regular monitoring, including HIV and STI testing.

Despite its proven effectiveness, access to PrEP in Tunisia remains highly limited. It is still confined to a pilot phase and has not yet been integrated into a national prevention strategy. Reference centres are primarily located at Fattouma Bourguiba Hospital in Monastir and La Rabta Hospital in Tunis—an availability that falls far short of current needs.

Associations are not authorised to provide PrEP, a restriction that frustrates Souhaila Bensaid. “Offering PrEP exclusively within treatment centres is not conducive to uptake,” she notes, adding: “I fail to understand why associations are permitted to conduct testing but not to provide PrEP, given that testing is equally a sensitive and complex task.”

Limiting PrEP provision to hospital-based settings reduces both accessibility and acceptability among the populations most at risk, she adds. Even individuals who wish to access these services within said centres often encounter difficulties in securing appointments.

Beyond PrEP, access to condoms is also constrained. “Condom distribution has become problematic due to security concerns, particularly the risk of being associated with sex work, even during community-based events,” Karam laments.

According to the National AIDS Control Programme (PNLS), condom use among key populations remains low and does not exceed 60%, with significant disparities: from 46.7% among people who inject drugs to 58.3% among sex workers.

Young people, in particular, are left to navigate these issues with little to no support. As a cornerstone of HIV and STI prevention, comprehensive sexuality education has yet to be effectively implemented within Tunisia’s education system. As a result, young people are deprived of a holistic, scientifically grounded understanding of modes of transmission and prevention of HIV and STIs, as well as of consent, bodily autonomy, and sexual and reproductive rights.

This restrictive approach reinforces the taboo surrounding sexuality, obscures real risks, especially among adolescents and young adults, and creates fertile ground for misinformation.

However, there is clear public demand for sexuality education. A recent survey on mothers’ attitudes towards their children’s sexual education, conducted by the Tawhida Ben Cheikh Group and published in December 2025, found that a strong majority of mothers (81.3%) support the integration of sexuality education into school curricula. Support increases with educational attainment, ranging from 77.6% among non-schooled mothers to 87.6% among those with higher education.

Lower secondary school (collège) is the level most frequently identified for the introduction of such education (42.2%), while a significant proportion of mothers also consider primary school an appropriate starting point (26.4%), underscoring the importance of early awareness.

Despite this need and the public health urgency, the state continues to hesitate. In 2020, the Ministry of Education announced the introduction of sexuality education at primary level, yet this commitment has not been implemented.

Another key pillar of prevention is the fight against stigma. Stigma remains one of the principal barriers to prevention, discouraging individuals from seeking testing, adopting protective measures, or engaging with care. The criminalisation of same-sex relations, drug use, and prevailing social conservatism all contribute to the marginalisation of people living with HIV.

Civil society organisations working with these populations are likewise affected by repressive measures. Increasingly stringent administrative procedures and heightened security controls are hindering their activities. “Organisations are now required to navigate ever more complex procedures simply to continue their work,” regrets Souhaila Bensaid.

The civil society, however, holds significant strengths, particularly its proximity to key populations and its capacity for innovation through peer education and alternative forms of expression such as artivism.

Nonetheless, it faces considerable constraints: limited geographical coverage, unstable funding, and a lack of institutional recognition. It cannot replace the state, but must instead be regarded as a strategic partner, emphasises Bahzed Welyeddine Fitouhi.

HIV prevention in Tunisia continues to be constrained by persistent political barriers, despite the presence of strong medical expertise.

Without genuine collaboration between the state and civil society, and without a destigmatised and inclusive approach, prevention efforts will remain partial and ineffective, leaving key populations exposed to risks that are, in many cases, preventable.

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • March 31, 2026

Beyond the Colors

Queer in Art Production (EP03)

The third episode of Season 2 of "Beyond the Colors" asks a fundamental question: How does an artist shape their identity and craft their art in a society that challenges them? "Beyond the Colors" is a podcast that documents and celebrates the diversity of human experiences in Tunisia. In this special season, we explore how the arts from writing to performance are used as a powerful tool for self-expression, defiance, and redefining mainstream narratives on identity and gender.

Cast :

  • Nada mezni Hfaiedh
  • Ahmed Taya
  • Bassen Ben Brahim

Preparation & Interview : Karam Aouini,  Ali Bousselmi
Executive Production : MOJA Studio
Directed by: Anas Chatty
Dp : Ahmed Thabet  
Camera operator : Amir Boufaroua
Sound Engineer : Hakim Midessa
Gaffer : Amir Lahdhiri
Assistant : Mourad Saad
Editing : Anis Mahjoub
VFX : Houdheyfa Naffeti
Subtitles :  Shayma Landolsi
Graphic Design : Boshra Jallali
Equipments : Digital Iris
Special Thanks : Lobsters Prod, Digital Iris production

 

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • March 31, 2026

Beyond the Colors

Queer in Art Production (part2)

The second episode of Season 2 of "Beyond the Colors" asks a fundamental question: How does an artist shape their identity and craft their art in a society that challenges them? "Beyond the Colors" is a podcast that documents and celebrates the diversity of human experiences in Tunisia. In this special season, we explore how the arts from writing to performance are used as a powerful tool for self-expression, defiance, and redefining mainstream narratives on identity and gender.

Cast :

  • Essia Jaïbi 
  • Moncef Zahrouni
  • Mourad Ben Cheikh
  • Bochra Triki

Preparation & Interview : Karam Aouini,  Ali Bousselmi
Executive Production : MOJA Studio
Directed by: Anas Chatty
Dp : Ahmed Thabet  
Camera operator : Amir Boufaroua
Sound Engineer : Hakim Midessa
Gaffer : Amir Lahdhiri
Assistant : Mourad Saad
Editing : Anis Mahjoub
VFX : Houdheyfa Naffeti
Subtitles :  Shayma Landolsi
Graphic Design : Boshra Jallali
Equipments : Digital Iris
Special Thanks : Lobsters Prod, Digital Iris production

 

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • September 19, 2025

Explore the first episode of season 2 of “Beyond the Colors”! This season highlights Queer representation in Tunisian artistic creation: authentic stories, bold works, and voices questioning the norms.

Beyond the Colors

Queer in Art Production (part1)

Cast :

  • Fadhel Jaïbi – الفاضل الجعايبي
  • Noura Nefzi – نورة النفزي
  • Mehdi Ben Attia – مهدي بن عطية
  • Hatem Belhaj – حاتم بالحاج

Preparation & Interview : Karam Aouini,  Ali Bousselmi

Executive Production : MOJA Studio

Directed by: Anas Chatty

Dp : Ahmed Thabet  

Camera operator : Amir Boufaroua

Sound Engineer : Hakim Midessa

Gaffer : Amir Lahdhiri

Assistant : Mourad Saad

Editing : Anis Mahjoub

VFX : Houdheyfa Naffeti

Subtitles :  Shayma Landolsi

Graphic Design : Boshra Jallali

Equipments : Digital Iris

Special Thanks : Lobsters Prod, Digital Iris production

©Photo: Mohamed, ©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • May 15, 2026

« The Courage to be Oneself »

Mohamed, 39 years old, He / She / They : Activist

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

His cheerful personality and welcoming manner arouse interest, but above all encourage people to get to know him and find out more about his checkered life story. Mohamed speaks openly about "coming out of the wardrobe". The 39- year-old activist was willing to share this bittersweet part of his life with us.

“No worries about being called or introduced by whatever pronouns you want.  (Smile)” The invitation was open for a non-gendered and spontaneous  conversation. This exchange, at once painful and necessary, unfolds from one  thing to the next, recounting a fragment of life, so short yet so shattered. It all  began in the United Arab Emirates… 

At first, the baby steps ...

“You can’t say that I had an unhappy childhood or adolescence. I grew up in a  loving family cocoon, loved and surrounded, first and foremost, by my brothers  and sisters and… especially by my parents.” Remembers Mohamed. He underlines a comfortable youthful existence, which could not in any way  change… and yet. 

In an era with very limited connectivity, and where the Internet was not as  important as it is today, encounters, whether fortuitous or solid, were more  spontaneous and went hand in hand with the discovery of oneself and one’s  sexuality. This was well before the advent of the 2000s and all its upheavals. So, at just 16, Mohamed had no hesitation in telling his parents about his physical  attraction to men… A confession that was immediately wiped away. “No doubt a  form of denial on their part”. He comments, paraphrasing their reaction: “It’s  probably just a bad phase, a short-lived period of discovery. It’ll pass! they said.” It was his very first coming-out and probably the least stormy. Little did Mohamed  know that the worst was yet to come… 

Thunderstorms on the horizon...

Indeed, he may not have known it at the time, but this primary revelation had just  shaken his life to its very core. When he was just 17, he moved alone to Alexandria to pursue my medical studies at the University of Alexandria. Barely 6 months after his arrival, M. found himself entangled in a case of  debauchery and was sentenced to 4 months in prison. It was an ordeal that  severely damaged his ties with his parents. 

“It was a very bad encounter that I had online. Dating websites were just  emerging. “It was a meeting with a man to see each other and ask questions to explore a certain aspect of myself in a way, who turned out to be a cop, and who  was stalking Queer and gay people online.” He remembers. 

A context is necessary to better understand Queer life 22 years ago in Cairo… 

In a large cosmopolitan capital, the Egyptian Queer community lived a hidden but  fulfilling double community life. Meeting places, queer slang, mostly private  parties. Dating websites made it easier to make meetings, chat rooms and other  websites were all the rage. “It’s such a long time ago and it’s not making me any  younger… Not a bit!” (Smiles). It’s an effervescence that occasionally gives rise  to scandals, causing gossip and upsetting the Egyptian people on more than one  occasion. He says: “My arrest happened so quickly and in this manner because of the rumors circulating about the presumed homosexuality of one of the sons of former President Hosni Mubarak and the nephew of one of the vice ministers of the interior at that time. The latter, who was publicly ‘outed’.” What people will say is pushing the authorities, once in charge,  to use dirty methods and arbitrary arrests to suppress the community and dispel  gossip. 

We are also talking about the early 2000s, and Mohamed also recalls the “Queen  Boat” affair, which at that time encouraged the authorities to toughen up the  merciless witch hunt for people who were gay or suspected of being Gay or Queer.  The tension hovered in a morass of stories that were created to divert public  opinion. For a year and a half, the police authorities were mobilized to hunt down  the LGBTQI++ community and M. was among dozens getting arrested. An ordeal  that will transform his parents into his own jailers. We are in 2002, M, released  from prison… still not an adult. 

Hell lies at home!

“My parents gave me a hard time after I got out of prison and all they could think  of was putting me through conversion therapy”. He recalls, with great lucidity  and hindsight. Hell lies at home. His brothers and sisters found themselves  completely unable to help him. Mohamed*, being the eldest, had to fend for  himself. Mentally disturbed, he still aspired to a calm daily life, despite parental  mistreatment, especially that of his mother, he recounts: “She went so far as to deprive me from eating, to isolate me, to deprive me of food and,  much later, to call my friends to get them away from me. She was tyranny embodied! She was the one who mostly urged me to ‘be cured’”. 

As the mother mistreated him, the father was indifferent; he observed all this mistreatment without reacting or intervening. Upon reaching the  age of 22, Mohamed literally lived under death threats in his own family  entourage. Fleeing had become a matter of life or death for him. 

And then it was time to leave

The unprecedented violence inflicted by the parents was beyond comparison. He had  to leave, but where to? For months, he would even starve. Then one day Mohamed  took a few belongings with him, left the house, stopped a taxi without knowing  where he was going… and finally found shelter at the house of a straight friend  who took him in for a while and with whom he was “out”. 

Mohamed adds: “A while after I left, my father called me to ask about me and try  to talk some sense to me. He asked me questions about my future, whether I was  a sex worker to earn a living… etc. He wanted me to come back on condition that  I undergo conversion therapy, or to hide… but as far as I was concerned, it  was out of the question for me to be subjected to this abuse or to pretend to be  someone I’m not. My mother, on the other hand, still didn’t want me without a  ‘change’. As if that were possible. So, it was down to them – both of them at a  standstill! They started butting heads with each other right afterwards and as time  went by… still in her furious madness, my mother started ordering my siblings to  break off contact with me, which didn’t happen! In fact, we stayed close to each  other.” 

Remembering a detail along the way, Mohamed says that in the midst of the turmoil, and  before leaving the family home, “My first love wanted me to live with him. But I refused because I wanted to stay with my family. That’s why we broke up. After the breakup, my violent problems started at home…I would have accepted if I’d known I was going to end  up on the streets” (Smiles). Some friends in the community found it frightening  to leave the house and wanted Mohamed to stay and “keep on pretending like  them… but no, that was out of the question for me!” he proudly declares, with no  regrets. 

Mohamed is now 39 years old, and since what he calls his “3rd Coming Out”, he  has made a path on his own, educated himself, finished his medical studies and  devoted himself to the IT and administration sectors, alternating study and work,  and teaching Arabic and German to foreigners. The IT sector and a number of  civil society projects have enabled him to make a decent living.

The aftermath

After the 2011 revolution, his relationship with his parents eased… temporarily,  after more than 5 years apart. “The revolution allowed people to talk, or at least  to become aware. To accept and acknowledge a little social diversity. To include  a few new values: tolerance, a taste for discussion, diversity, and inclusion. Hope  began to emerge…”. He comments on this period of time. 

Until the umpteenth drama that will forever change M*’s life: the affair of the  LGBTQI++ flags waved in a “Machrou3 Leila” concert in Egypt. He recalls: “In  this affair, I expressed myself in a post that resonated at the highest political level  and with the security and police authorities. It had become a danger for me to  return. I was stuck in Lebanon for two months before finally requesting asylum in  France on December 1st, 2017. Leaving the country had become a question of  survival. Against my will, it had to be done. I have been a political refugee ever  since.”  

To the question: “Does he miss Cairo?” he answers… with difficulty. “At first, I  was prone to fits of severe nostalgia. But I ended up accepting that I had the  best life I wanted to have now, away from all the hassles, problems, pressure…I breathed, away from the country. Once I gained some distance, I realized just  how much danger I was living in. Horrible! Unacceptable. All that is behind me  now. I’ve changed my life. I’ve taken charge of it and I’m not coming back. If I  had to leave, it’s clearly for the best, and if I come back, I’d be in the law’s  crosshairs. I still can’t choose  where to live. I breathe, I feel good, I have a stable, ordinary life. That’s enough  for me: I don’t need a colourful or perfect life”. Mohamed replies, in some kind  of resignation.  

He opts for happiness and peace, despite the setbacks and the ups and downs.  Avoiding pressure from society, family or living in the shadows… Anything but  being someone else or playing a role. And he concludes: “Every Coming Out is  unique. Who am I to give advice?”.

©Photo: Weema, ©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • May 15, 2026

« Breaking Free & Facing Parents »

Weema ( He / They ), project manager and activist

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

For every Queer person, coming out is an accomplishment, an act of emancipation. Weema*, aged 31, decides to come out and carve out an existence for themselves that is not devoid of consequences, but certainly devoid of filters. Indeed, standing up to his family, he chooses one day to take the lead in his own life... for better or for worse.

“Revealing myself as I am to the family, and especially to my parents, had become
crucial. An emergency itself: that of relieving oneself from a weight which has
become overwhelming. It was about doing that, in a critical time, regardless of the
consequences. It was about saying it loud and clear or remaining silent forever or
even worse…”. Says Weema, smiling beautifully and peacefully in his haven of
peace; his workplace, where he chosed to meet us. In recent years, he has
devoted himself entirely to the Queer cause , through “ Mawjoudin – We Exist ”
by being a project manager. A life, in Tunis, which ends up reconciling his Queer
existence, his very nature, his values, his commitment and… his livelihood. A
young life, which they lead with its ups and downs but one that they no longer
need to hide… especially from his sisters and parents: His everything. “Not
forgetting my dog and my cat. My children “. (Laugh). A sort of equilibrium is
achieved… but not smoothly.

Embryonic militancy 2.0

Queer cause has been and still is an integral part of Weema ‘s existence . A few
years ago, the commitment came about spontaneously, by volunteering in local
Tunisian associations (Queer or not). Gradually, his online activism took over
and… became more recurrent, due to the frequency of publications and more
visible, due to their reach. The interactions they generated came to life. The 2.0
commitment, carried out alone, was fruitful. They remember: “This activity
spread very quickly outside the country and reached abroad. The magic of the
internet has certainly played its part.” They remember, before specifying: “I was

posting information related to the Queer / LGBTQI++ cause. I enlightened Internet
users about the confusions by publishing videos, various information, images and
“Infox” operations. I felt compelled to counter the prevailing homophobia, online
violence, discuss sexual orientations, gender identities, endings, inclusive writing
and a host of Queer / LGBTQI++ subjects. And this same content opened the
discussion. I felt free and safe to do so, because any violent reactions I might
produce or endure did not go beyond the screen.” (Smile) This homophobic, sexist,
racist violence was indeed heavily felt: The urgency to act or try to put an end to
it, at least, online was done spontaneously through his own social networks…
precisely Facebook, at the very beginning.
A form of struggle has taken hold on a daily basis. It immediately became more
concrete and field-based by integrating “Mawjoudin – We exist”. Weema does not
fail to recall this defining “Tilt” moment and remembers:: “My very first exchange
with a member of “Mawjoudin” was enough to make me feel at ease. I had not
known other places, nor other contexts (In Tunisia at least), in which I had been
asked, for instance, about my pronouns. That day, it happened instinctively! And
for me, this question meant a lot because I was coming out of, among other things,
a short but difficult experience lived in an International Organization and which
had “ Outed ” me, put me in danger. The transition for “ Mawjoudin ” happened
naturally and above all in a “ safe ” way.” He quotes. Little did he know that a
collision between activism and personal/professional life was looming on the
horizon.

Chase away the unsaid

Concealing one’s pronouns, pretending to be someone else, explaining, justifying,
or worse hiding… gradually exhausted Weema. Integrating “ Mawjoudin ” helped
to ease the weight of an existence considered as “singular”, “Distinguished” or
“Non-Normative”. It should be remembered that at this stage, for them, being
themselves has already been done occasionally, differently or nonchalantly with
others. At this point, moving beyond this phase entirely and eradicating any
discussion around “Who am I?” with those around him has become… necessary.
With friends, acquaintances, or work partners, they let go. At high school, Weema
tests the reaction of the people around him, he tests the waters… before saying
anything. This is, according to him, in itself a form of Coming Out. He quotes:
“There were some who left, others who stayed, others who told me: ‘It doesn’t

matter, but we wouldn’t like to know more, it’s better to be discreet and remain
so… etc. etc “.
However, online activities raised questions and doubts. For the family, on the
other hand, Coming out happened “step by step”. With his three sisters, things
were fine, including the eldest… to whom everything was said during an
argument. Weema remembers: “My older sister, who scared me a bit, was always
criticizing me, making comments about my lifestyle and the way I dressed. She was
always asking questions, right up to the point where we started to argue… which
ultimately brought us together. After two days of complete radio silence, she
came back to me, in an attempt to mend fences, approached me about my hair
colour, what I might like to wear etc. etc… And we finally embraced. It was moving!
Looking back, I’d say she was just protective and scared for her sisters, especially
for me. Another of my sisters, who was younger, had already known… for as long
as I can remember.” However, revealing yourself to your siblings is not like
revealing yourself to your parents. Despite the extreme fear that one day they
would find out who he really was, Weema summoned up the necessary courage
one day and… took the leap.

Crossing the unimaginable

Yes: doing it, kept going over and over in his head. Confessing everything to his
parents bubbled up as time went by. Weema tossed the question back and forth,
pondering the various possibilities, taking advantage of the lockdown and the
pandemic to think about it over and over again on their own, and to question
himself. He goes so far as to think of ways to protect himself, by setting
alternatives, if this revelation ever shatters his life, puts him in danger. “I even
thought about leaving right afterwards, running away, in case it all goes wrong!”.
He recalls and comments: “Coming out to one’s parents was the decision of a
lifetime, and it could even turn mine upside down… for better or for worse. I felt
paralyzed and despite that, I did it.” It was unacceptable to him that his parents
would find out about it from other people, that they would be told so, that they
would end up knowing about it … and not from him.
This decision was hastened, above all, by a serious depression that had weakened
him to the point where his parents’ presence, comfort and support became more
than vital. Weema attempts to put words to this unprecedented existential
anguish: “I kept telling my therapist over and over that I want to tell them and that

I need them in my life. The latter was skeptical. Reluctant. He did not want that.
Distress was in full swing. I ended up making a list of pros and cons! I finally made
my mind to do it despite the recommendations, the warnings of my therapist, and
the disapproval of my sisters… My life appeared to be at a dead end: so, I was
determined to do it. The big day had arrived. I obviously warned the parents in
advance. I told them that I had something very important to tell them and that
they both had to be present. They were very scared at the time! I even asked a
close friend to wait for me in a café nearby. In case there would be a violent
reaction, he will be the first to help me. The fateful moment had come. It was two
years ago already.”

This first moment of the rest of your life

This moment was worthy of a movie scene. A face to face, with both parents
around a table. Heart beating, trembling… hesitating at the moment. Weema
appeared before his father and mother, who were also terribly worried. Expecting
the worst, his mum ended up telling him first: “We will eventually find a solution…
no matter what the problem is!” It only took such a short but reassuring and
comforting sentence…for him to pour everything out, thinking that this moment
of affection with the two of them was probably going to be…the last. “”Don’t
interrupt me!” I told them, insisting on letting me finish what I have to say and
asking me the questions they want to ask afterwards. By specifying that I was
already in advance, ready to withstand any reaction from them… Then, strange
silence on my part for a few seconds and I continued: “I am not attracted to men”,
all by explaining and justifying my discomfort, and my depression, as best I can
with the words that came to mind, which presented themselves as lifelines during
this specific moment, a moment that seemed infinite to me. (smile ). I told them
that I needed their presence by my side and their support etc. etc. “.
With hindsight, Weema retraces this exchange with great lucidity and continues:
“At one point, there my mother responded: “I don’t understand anything you are
saying! “. She was still searching for explanations and stumbling through questions
and snippets of words spoken spontaneously. My dad keeps silent.” Faced with
these two distinct reactions, Weema drowned in a stream of unfinished, and
often incomprehensible expressions. The tension is at its peak! With Assurance,
he replied: “And spare me the religious argument, the psychologist that I’m
already consulting, the doctors also because I am not sick. I will not change, you
must know that, because it’s not possible… I was able to continue by listing all

these arguments out loud to them. It was a way for me to anticipate their reaction
and to give myself even more credibility by citing my consultation with an Imam
and my ongoing research on the subject. » . Weema has never been so clear with
his parents, he nonchalantly told them that many people around him know about
it and accept him the way he is. His father responds immediately, with a touch of
fear but remaining calm : “What exactly do you expect from us? And what do you
mean by “People know”? “. Weema quickly realized that for his parents, it’s more
about people’s “What will they say” that bothers them, much more than being
Queer /Gay.
He immediately admitted that all his sisters already knew. And there was the
mother asking why he waited all this time to open up about it with them. ““What
were you afraid of?” She told me. I had to mention that I work for a Queer
association and that I am often in contact with many people in the know. That this
might become known one day and that it often turns out badly for Queer people
who choose to “ Come Out”… etc. My mother was surprised, even shocked, that
the laws were so restrictive against us in this country, that parents abandoned
their children if they are Queer / LGBTQI++, and I found myself explaining and
revealing to them information about us that they were totally unaware of. My
mother found it astonishing that entire laws were put in place to harm us. My
parents have continued to learn more about our existence since this revelation. I
realized how much they knew nothing… They were responsive and above all
wanted to find out more, which is a blessing in itself ! Despite this look of pity they
had had at the time. And finally, there was a relief, a collapse into tears and
overflowing emotions. My father even wanted to know more about the one who
was at the origin of my romantic depression. ( laughs ).” He remembers with a
hint of emotion in his voice.
The small family that now accepts him continues to learn, train and learn about
Queer / LGBTQI+ existence and more about Weema’s private life. The
parent/child relationship has become closer. This revelation completely healed
W. He has since been in tune with himself and moving forward. “After my family,
nothing matters! “. He proudly proclaims, leaving a word of advice for anyone
who feels the need to come out: “Don’t take this personal journey as an example.
Be aware of your privileges. Take your time to do it. Don’t do it if you don’t want
to. Above all, be very careful.”

©Photo: Salma , ©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 22, 2026

« The Urgency To Take Action »

Salma El Masri , He / She : Activist

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

When personal experience and convictions intertwine, militanty begins to take shape and struggles end up being structured. Salma El Masri lives in Cairo. She is executive director of Bedayaa Organization, which works to defend the rights of LGBTQI+ people. In recent years, as part of the team, she has been working hard to raise awareness among young Queer people about their drug use habits. Her work has proved to be a fruitful one, carried out in an immersive manner, always on-site... and free from prejudice.

Behind each cause hides an existence, connections, and sometimes an unusual combination of circumstances. Often a context can generate momentary or lasting changes. Salma El Masri can vouch for the fact that her atypical path, which began at an early age, is community-based. An inevitable future, it seems. She recalls: “I dedicated myself to activism quite early, working for SOGI Issues (Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Issues). In 2010, a kind of networking began to emerge. I felt it, we felt it. At the very beginning, there were four of us. A committed and supportive core that met others around human causes. Contacts were formed gradually. There were, for instance, those advocating human rights, in particular, the rights relating to women and children. They organized themselves into collectives, associations, or organizations. Feminists and Queer /LGBTQI++ people also asserted themselves and became visible. All in an effervescent social and political context in Egypt.” Salma decided to take action, namely by reconciling two groups of lesbians and gays.

 

Unity; the corner stone of struggle

Susceptibilities, discord, or disagreements could arise. But there can be no place for commitment or struggle in a climate of unhealthy relationships. Salma remembers dedicating herself for a while to easing certain tensions within the Queer community itself, in particular by bringing together Lesbian and Gay friends. “I offered activities, cultural programs, various outings, group games, and getaways.” She quotes.

A community life full of activities emerged. It brought Queer people together and thus allowed collectives, associations, and organizations to see the light of day. A solid network of associations began to exist in the Greater Cairo Region, and activities and initiatives were soon to be decentralized throughout Egypt. In the end, it was a fruitful time, which shaped the future of many awareness-raising initiatives, and the firm existence of Bedayaa. However, in 2017 / 2018, a scourge began to creep in…that of the spread of hallucinogenic substances and various drugs, specifically within the LGBTQI+/ Queer community. Substances that are associated with loss of control, health issues and often fatal accidents.

Facing up to gimmicks

Festivities and music (especially techno) attract in particular, and as everywhere else in the world, users of synthetic drugs. Ecstasy, MDMA or GHB were all the rage. Cases of people unknowingly drugged or abused were reported. “A few pills are discreetly thrown into glasses and it’s a disaster!” Salma is concerned, pointing out the remarkable diversity of drug types and the effects they cause. Those are gimmicks that tend to exist when electro (or other) music and partying are involved.

People take drugs in groups or individually, often completely unconscious, and unaware of the consequences. Overdoses and deaths follow one another, and cases of addiction are increasing rapidly. The health of many young people is at risk. Young people are left to fend for themselves, afraid to seek medical care, to consult or report to doctors for fear of being stigmatized. Not to mention the arbitrary raids carried out by the authorities, who, for “presumed” security reasons, get their hands on illegal substances found in the homes of drug users. In these cases, they end up stuck in prison and in legal trouble. In addition to this worrying situation, there is a lack of guidance, care, appropriate medical infrastructure, awareness campaigns and rehabilitation facilities. Thousands of young drug users find themselves dragged into an addiction nightmare, lived in silence. The taboo nature of the situation remains overwhelming.

Efficiency on the spot

“In the name of Bedayaa and in response the urgency of the situation, we mobilized with the aim of raising awareness among drug users by taking action on the spot.” Explains Salma while pinning the classic ways of doing this, such as calling on well-known personalities or influencers or by carrying out ordinary and ultimately irrelevant campaigns, often carrying cliché messages. Civil society in Egypt sometimes uses ordinary means to raise awareness, using speeches that perpetuate clichés and harm fragile social groups via media and social networks.

And “taking action on the spot” means getting closer to the organizers of events, often techno or “Rave”, and helping partygoers on site; which remains an efficient way to be always on the lookout and attentive to substance users. Advice, stalls, and information points are sprouting up, attracting people, and helping them avoid the dangers of these drugs and their effects, thus avoiding overdoses and other serious incidents. “Our target remains the Queer community but as our actions are also visible online, many felt concerned by this.” Specifies Salma El Masri. Currently, psychologists, psychiatrists, addictologists, and lawyers are also mobilized. A handbook and awareness-raising guides are now available. This robust teamwork helped reduce the stigma that this target population may endure.

“The Queer community is exposed to the use of drugs in order to stimulate the senses, to feel good for a period of time. To guarantee a pleasant but undoubtedly ephemeral escape. Some consumers take them occasionally. But Queer people are the most tempted by nightlife and the party scene. Salma points out that most people already unconsciously live with other addictions such as coffee and cigarettes and that humans are indisputably always torn between moderation and excess. “And what we need to avoid is precisely these excesses in everything. It’s only possible to carry out this militant work by monitoring the frequency of intake and providing access to information”. Says Salma.

A census in figures is always carried out by Bedayaa. Not all of the queer community is affected. Many consumers are targeted. A figure that is constantly being adjusted upwards. Some rehabilitation centers manage to attract a few cases, but not enough or not sufficiently. Frivolous care is provided… often in vain, as patients end up leaving and coming back… And a vicious circle is set in motion among drug users from the queer community in Egypt. The actions of Bedayaa organization have succeeded in anticipating a few drifts and serious situations. “Because if you’re determined to consume, you might as well do it safely”. Underlines Salma El Masri.

Bedayaa’s goal is to extend this project to the regional level, namely by contacting “Mawjoudin – We Exist” or other existing organizations in neighboring countries. “This necessary work is not being done enough in the Arab world and we must act across borders, by establishing a structured plan.” Concluded Salma based on interactions with people, both virtual and real-life. A regional Queer community is in need. Assistance is needed, despite the difficulties linked to the socio-political and security contexts in several countries of the MENA region.

 

©Photo: Sasha , ©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 22, 2026

« In the turmoil of Artifice »

Sasha (he), 29 years old

by Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

 

Sasha* is a bit over 29 years old, and little over a quarter of a lifetime that has been fruitful, festive, hectic, wild, intense … and marked by unexpected events. At the dawn of his 30s, he unveils without any filters his personal Queer existence, one that’s fluctuating between mental vulnerability and artificial paradises.

It is by trusting that experiences are shared, and by reading these lines that  others can find their own way, and question or protect themselves. Testifying  will perhaps resonate with many Queer people (or not): Narrating the  intimate can be an attempt at reconciliation with oneself, a narrative of  resilience, and it is also about being at peace with oneself. “Not being in  tune with oneself gives way to fragile mental health… and being born  Queer, in a Tunisia that completely disregards Queer lives, the right to  be different, and marginalized communities, only accumulates insecurities, mental fatigue, fear, and uneasiness, over the years. It is  not directly my Queer nature which has accentuated my disorders, it is  rather definitely this hostile and even dangerous context which  gradually ends up crushing us.” So does he comment on the context in  which he lives and survives.

Turbulence

The emergence of this classic Queer life, full of chance encounters, online or in person, was ordinary. For Sasha*, it was by leaving high school, his  family home, his initial comfort zone, and his hometown that self-fulfillment naturally began. “Little by little, we create our own world, a bubble.  Around 17 or 18, a sort of “parallel existence” begins to take place.” He  quotes. Love and friendships, social life and partying already has shaped this  short existence, which subsequently merged with university life and the beginning of his twenties. First times come one after the other: Crushes,  flirting, relationships (casual or solid). “To cut a long story short, compared  to other people, I haven’t had any problems living up to my potential. I  succeeded without coming “Out” publicly or in front of my family. It  worked out…”. He said. 

To be Queer is also to build oneself while preserving oneself, it is to shape  oneself over the years by creating one’s microcosm, one’s own links, a  society within the society: it can be fulfilling, intense, and tricky. It also  means creating a sense of community for oneself. For S*, the beginnings of  an ordinary Queer existence took shape early on and hid certain mental  fragilities… already well established since adolescence, an ingrateful period  par excellence. 

A propitious environment

“I suffer from social anxiety and mood disorders, linked to constant fear  (conscious or unconscious). I would go through phases of weariness,  stress, and depression continuously. Basically, the discomfort was  permanently there. The context reinforces these disorders.” This is how  he self-diagnoses. Sasha* gives words to his woes: Sorrows that are diluted  in deep and recurring moments of solitude. A hollow dizziness to fill by  creating occasional escape routes. 

Frequent partying, going out, and going to electronic music festivals are  part of the pleasurable things to do again and again, every week, often over  the course of days… The entourage encouraged Sasha* to live like all young  people (Queer or not). 

Curiosity, discoveries, a thirst for meetings and parties merged… A festive  lifestyle gradually took over. It is a way, no doubt unconscious, of avoiding  loneliness and depression… right up to the first occasional, then frequent,  Ecstasy (MDMA) intake and the pleasurable ephemeral sensations that they provide. He comments: “For someone who is depressed, if they take these substances, they feel relieved, balanced, and liberated. This  provides a pleasant feeling of floating for a period of time. And from one  substance to another, the sensations change, stimulate differently…  until the discovery of Cocaine.”

This white addictive substance is considered more subtle to consume… but  more expensive. Consumers can get it… If they have the financial means. “The consumer generally has a good socio-economic status: If they  work, they should be able to afford it. The same goes for Ecstasy pills or  other synthetic drugs: when the consumer works daily, every day, every  week, it’s not easy to take them often and continuously. The body won’t  support it. In fact, you need to regain your strength after each  consumption. This is called “the comedown”. Says S. A comedown that  is often difficult to bear. The consumption of “white powder” is different from  other drugs in that it is more addictive. 

At the same time, one would spend less money on alcohol; since alcohol  and drugs do not go well together. S. points out: “As the years go by, I’ve  seen more and more people using various drugs…and others who were  worse off than me. It’s very difficult to stay in control.” The addiction  eventually takes over and a feeling of constant craving settles in. 

A downward spiral

Today’s lucidity allows S. to comment with great hindsight on this addictive  state : “We never control a drug, it’s the substance that controls us. It’s  a lie to think otherwise.” When an “Addict” is drawn in, they see consumers  everywhere… because it is also a feeling of belonging to a consumer  community that is created, that endures and reassures. Here’s an observation that’s based on confirmed real facts : “Even on dating apps,  people have pseudonyms referencing various drugs… It’s like being  surrounded and overwhelmed: Over time, that’s all you can see, and you  can only think in terms of these consumable chemical narcotics.  Personally, I don’t know any Queer people who haven’t touched drugs or  at least had the opportunity to do so.” 

“Queer life” and festivities go hand in hand with the nightlife and its  excesses, an environment that encourages consumption, in general. A  consumption which remains more prevalent among Queer people, than in  “Straight” circles, according to Sasha. Between a wavering mental state,  periodic intake of anxiolytics, antidepressants, and constant use of  substances… Excesses reached their peak. 

Up to disinhibition

Like elsewhere in the world, and more specifically within the Queer /Gay  community, “Chemsex” or the use of drugs during sex is also emerging…  And there’s no escaping it… Sasha associates “Chemsex” with total  disinhibition or reaching a climax. 

Two regrettable experiences of “Chemsex” left their mark on him. One would  ask; what’s the point of this practice? It’s all about increased libido,  pleasure, and endurance. Always more sensational, more intense.  “Usually, I would take drugs at parties or at festivals. However, I did this twice.” He remembers bitterly. This practice is becoming increasingly widespread. Mainly rooted in the gay community, it intrigues as much as it  worries. Under influence, this practice is generally carried out without  protection, exposing people to a high risk of STIs or HIV. “And I know some  who contracted HIV as a result of unprotected sexual practices, due to”Chemsex “… You can only feel so bad afterwards that you burst in tears.” He goes on to explain: “Maybe not having enough love in life or not  loving oneself enough leads to disinhibition. Within the queer  community, we have vicious rules linked to bodies, in my opinion, which  accentuates this curiosity to indulge in more advanced physical  experiences.” 

Excessive consumption caused serious discomfort for Sasha*, an alarming  step for him. This was due to the side effects of Cocaine . “That day, I hadn’t  eaten, I took it on an empty stomach: it was a sudden drop in blood  sugar… after being awake for more than 35 hours. I stopped consuming it for 3 weeks because of this discomfort… Then back to the old habit! » 

To limit the damage…and stop?

Wanting to stop came as a wake-up call. Trials followed one another.  Practicing sports? In vain. Trusting one’s psychiatrist / Addictologist? It is a  priori the most redeeming option: Mood stabilizers were prescribed, and the  sessions went on… until his own psychologist suggested that he consult  another specialist. “I experienced it as abandonment… It was very hard  for me to take. I haven’t seen any of them since.” he comments. Consumption resumes but in a more organized manner with Sasha’s  pressing desire to stop… Two other main reasons which urgently push him  to slow down? His money was running out, and his work performance was 

taking a hit. S. nevertheless earns a good living, and if he had earned more, it  could have been fatal for him. 

Stopping turned out to be more complicated than he thought. He says:  “Nowadays, I haven’t stopped taking drugs altogether, but I’ve moved to  a new city, a new environment and a new group of friends. Goodbye  Tunis! Back to my hometown, back to my roots. Separating from my  close friends is painful, but it has to be done. It’s a whole lifestyle,  ordinary leisure activities and relationships that can accelerate  consumption, which is why I feel the urgent need to leave everything  behind in the hope of stopping. In Tunisia, we don’t have access to the  necessary care to treat addiction, let alone detox centers or competent  specialists. Which is disastrous.” 

With a heavy heart, S. says he is doing his best to get by in Tunisia…  depending on the options available. His behaviour remains addictive and  isolating himself can potentially be of great help to him. He has now stopped  taking medication and suffers from sleep disorders. S. is keeping things  under control and seeking for interesting work opportunities in other  countries. 

Queer people should have the right and the possibility to leave the country  easily if they want to, especially after such a heavy experience or bitter  despair. Having this primary right to feel good about oneself, to be in tune  with oneself, because by evolving in a healthy environment, drugs would not  have presented themselves. He says: “I must also manage to face this  fear: the one that if I completely stopped consuming drugs, it would  plunge me into a deeper state of depression, to the point where it would  no longer be possible to get out of it or to have the strength to deal with  other life concerns. For now, it’s constant escapism! »  

Addiction or excessive consumption remains unspoken, a taboo in our  society. A neglected scourge that eats away at many consumers who are  alone to fend for themselves. 

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 27, 2023

Beyond the Colors

Onstage Queerness through Generations (part 2)

We invite you to discover the artistic Queer Tunisian scene through generations. We are Queer, We are Here and since ever !!

Cast : Ghzala / Gina Gee / Khookha McQueer / House of Alïa; * Myile Alaïa * Miss kamy Alaïa * Ramla Alaïa *

Idjah Alaïa * Alexandra Alaïa * Breena Alaïa,

House of Brattz: Azza brattz * Habouba brattz * Haydra brattz,

Melk 007 * Slutisha 007 * Khoukha 007

Executive production : MOJA Studio

Directed by: Anas Chatty

Preparation & Interview : Karam Aouini,  Ali Bousselmi

Dp : Ahmed Thabet

Camera Operator : Mhamed Zhioua

Sound Engineer : Amine Ben Attia

Gaffer : Mohsen Laouini, Nour zemni

Photographer : Yesmine Abed

Makeup & Costume Design : Ghassen Douissa

Editing : Yassine Bouchnab

Coloring:  Amer Amdouni

Sound Mixer : Baha Ayadi

Graphic Designer : Boshra Jallali

Equipment : Digital Iris

Special thank to : Tetro Lolla

Project : Beyond the Colors 

©Photo: EuroMed Rights, ©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 22, 2026

“In the course of my involvement, the cause has emerged”

Sondos Garbouj (She), psychologist

By Haithem Haouel
English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

 

Talking to her is not something you can do half-heartedly. Sondos Garbouj is a clinical psychologist, currently teaching psychology at the university. A profession that echoes the question of Gender / Human Rights / Feminism, which reflects her intersectional involvement. Practicing goes hand in hand with her unwavering support for minorities. In this interview, she talks about her involvement, which she advocates loud and clear.

1- You have devoted your career to human rights, to the fight for equality and feminism, and you have turned it into a fight for the minorities. Your involvement is intersectional. But who is Sondos Garbouj before her accomplishments?

This is my life story (Laughter). It all started with two important and contradictory things that made me who I am now: first, my family, which on the surface seems conformist, ordinary, and quite Tunisian. It didn’t take me long to realize how unwavering my father’s support was. In addition to that, my position in the family meant that my relationship with my father was … strange, distinguished. (Laughter) I’m the eldest child in a large family and I had very intellectual and precocious conversations with him. Conversations that were certainly not devoid of pitfalls, or problems, but were always underpinned by intellectual honesty. My father was indeed an enlightened man. I remember that when I started to formulate my arguments for the abolition of the death penalty, he was my first interlocutor: the arguments and counter-arguments were made with him. I am what I am today thanks to this family environment and my personal life path … which has not been spared from violence. Important episodes allowed me to discover myself and pushed me to do psychology. Besides, the first concept I had to master was resilience. One of the ways to build resilience? Turning the pain you feel into a battle horse: That’s why I’ve been involved in human rights issues ever since I was at school, thanks to film clubs and then the UGET at university, the cradles of discussion and debate circles in the old days. In my memory, these were fairly politicized circles, but they did provide an introduction to collective debates. UGET, ATFD, AFTURD and Amnesty International were part of the Tunisian landscape before the revolution. I spent a lot of time with them, even though I was apolitical. I am and was a feminist. I would say, however, that I don’t like to be labelled or compartmentalized. I militate on all fronts for different battles.

2-Do your fights remain fundamentally intersectional?

Yes. When one is fighting against discrimination and opposition, it is inevitable. One is intersectional. This is how we enter the great sphere of Human Rights. All causes are intersectional!

3- Involvement or militancy before and after the Tunisian revolution of 2011: let's talk about that !

What is it to be an activist? (laughter). The term has become overused, a catch-all. And we see so many “militants” that I’ve ended up ceding the field to them. (Laughter) Let’s try to define the term “activist”: What do I mean by the word “Activist”? If I support a person who is like – me or different from me, in a position of fragility, ignoring what can separate us and focusing on what they are going through? In this case I am an activist! If I listen to people who consider themselves to be minorities? I am an activist. I’d add that I’m constantly on the lookout for information: you have to avoid getting lulled into your comfort zone and never stop maintaining your flexibility of mind: that flexibility that allows you to open up to the lexicon and the discourse. By being an “ally” of several causes, I’m not substituting myself for those concerned, I’m not expressing myself in their place. What’s bothered me since the start of the revolution, up until now and with the freedom of speech, is these terms / functions, which are randomly attributed…

4-Do you approve of the expression or designation “Person involved in Human Rights”?

Absolutely.  Without a doubt. It’s very significant. It’s easy to wave the flag of militancy these days… We need to develop things further.

5-What does it mean to be “involved in Human Rights” before and after the revolution of January 14, 2011?

It is especially much more difficult after 2011. Before 2011, Ben Ali and Bourguiba were unifying despots in Tunisia. Ben Ali was the best enemy, the dictatorship was even clear in his time: All and all against him. We were even divided in two: those who expressed themselves and those who did not. Under Ben Ali, it was almost impossible to be involved as a group in organizations or associations. It was easier to be involved on a personal level. Then, just after 2011, there was a honeymoon phase, this memorable collective euphoria during which we had the means to work…. Right up to the present day, and I can only say that the last two years have been by far the most difficult we’ve ever experienced. The physical torture inflicted by Ben Ali is indisputable, but the torture of our times is to clash amongst ourselves, giving rise to a virulent populism that can only give rise to the most dangerous of governments. Citizens can become potential enemies, and in populist governance, it’s always “human rights” that are targeted first. I parody a quotation from Simone de Beauvoir when I say that all it takes is one populist change for all freedoms to be threatened. What could be “tastier” and easier for detractors to do than belittle minoritized communities? It’s a perfect way to divert attention. Add to that human rights education, which is totally absent from school textbooks, university curricula and even less so from the media… This systematically puts the whole of society at risk.

6- Can you come back to your contact with the Queer community? Was it easy, complicated and in what context was it done?

Long before. As I am a psychologist and over my years of practice and training, including in organizations, everything has been done within this context. And then, everyone without exception, has been confronted with the question of identity, one day or another: Some live it in denial, and others dwell on it. At the end of the 1980s, I even rubbed shoulders with and knew university professors who considered, at the time, homosexuality to be “a disease” with textbooks and journals that supported this aberration. Homosexuality has long been considered even as a “deviation”, a “perversion”. The WHO had already declared it as not being a pathology and yet, in Tunisia, and ten years later, it was still taught as such in our curriculums. Personally, I was lucky to be surrounded by scholars, enlightened intellectuals including Alia Bafoune, a great specialist in sociology who had given me books to read. The first questions therefore began to arise… Questions that also concern transidentity. A rarity at that time! Then, it was in France, at the age of 25,  where I first met a homosexual couple, who lived together. It was memorable! The couple was great, but it was also and above all the people around me that fascinated me. Over the course of my involvement, the cause has emerged. It was only later, in contact with my students, at the university, that I began to know the first people belonging to the community… It was in 2005 in Tunis.

7-Until you were elected President of Amnesty International: You devoted yourself to human rights in general, including the LGBTQI+ question, which was also present within this organisation. How was the work done on the LGBTQI+ cause within this organisation?

Amnesty International was a very heterogeneous environment for me: On the inside, there were people affiliated with Amnesty International… who were homophobic and who proudly claimed to be so. The period during which I was elected president was from April 2011 (just after the departure of Ben Ali) to 2014. There were homophobic people in the managing committee. At the same time, Amnesty International, on a militant level, was the first to address the LGBTQI+ cause publicly: a first in 2011. Everything was done through a manifesto which was submitted to the Constituent Assembly in 2012 and which was called “10 Steps for Human Rights”. We listed in this manifesto: 10 essential points / huge flaws to take into account including point 8, 9 and 10 which evoke the abolition of the death penalty, non-discrimination on the basis of ethnicity, religion, color, race and of course, non-normative sexuality. The question was approached in this way, via a manifesto… It was a first and everything took place in a stormy way for 3h45. It was tense and violent also because of the various sensitive topics listed and discussed including marital rape and gender-based violence etc…. Another essential detail to remember in relation to Amnesty International is its youth commission. It is my greatest pride. Young people who were so committed, exemplary, and admirable… this core group was unique. Ali Bousselmi and Abir Boukornine were part of it… This is where Mawjoudin – We Exist was born. Amnesty worked on the Kairouan homosexual affair, on article 230, and on the anal test. Currently, and since 2014, I work as an outsourcing consultant on several intersectional projects. I am interested in all projects that affect Human Rights and specifically the rights of LGBTQI+ people: I focus on it and prioritize it, and even if it does not specifically concern the community… I find a way to deal with the LGBTQI+ question. When I am consulted for projects that deal with gender-based violence, the question I always ask is whether it is binary or non-binary gender that is concerned. And I explain it … and often there is refusal or acceptance, but I contextualize by affirming that I work from a non-binary perspective. If people ask me these days, why do we go so hard on the community? Is it out of homophobia or out of ignorance? I would say that homophobia is ignorance. It is caused by a great lack of information and a deep deficiency on all levels. As soon as I deal with the subject in a playful and intelligent way, the result is different. It takes time to free oneself, to free oneself, to dare to change one’s mentality. Many are afraid of change and are terrified of change.

8- Do you consider yourself an ally of the Queer cause?

Regarding what I do, I am an ally of the Queer cause, yes. And I’m happy about it. In particular, thanks to the head of department in the faculty where I teach, and who introduced a subject called “Education and gender”. I do education and gender, yes, and gender education, too. I deal with the non-binary genre with my students through exchanges, debates, screenings etc. One has to start somewhere…

9 - How would you define an ally to the Queer / LGBTQI+ cause in absolute terms?

Firstly, the Ally must campaign under the umbrella of “Human Rights” in their most holistic definition. Secondly, the Ally must defend people’s individuality/complexity, while being aware of the system of domination, discrimination, persecution, and oppression in which they have evolved: people want to be respected in their individuality, and as Allies, we must be the first to respect them as they are, in their freedom. Being an ally doesn’t mean dictating your truths and beliefs or flaunting them… And being an ally in a cause – no matter which one – means being there and stepping aside a little for the Others: you mustn’t speak on behalf of the Others. You must give an argument, develop a counterargument, deconstruct and finally, I would say that an ally has to be persevering and tough.

10- Still in your opinion, is there a difference between "Allies "? Are there different ways of being an ally? And is being an ally structural or emotional??

You can be so in both ways. I would prefer the term “affective”. We cannot advocate or defend a cause to which we are not attached viscerally, affectionately and by conviction. And yes, of course, there are different ways of being an “ally”: there are some who are structural in their way of supporting or operating on the field, who are on the front line and who can even be considered as guarantors of the cause. As an ally, we can also be on the front line by working on legal texts, advocacy, public appearances, visibility. These allies are effective and bring a lot to a society like ours, especially if they have a certain reputation, position, or are cis heterosexual. The second way, in my opinion, of being allied to the cause, is to work directly with the community and to be in direct contact with it, listening, present, ready to support and help. The third way of being an ally is to work on Others and those around you, to raise awareness, to hold yourself to talking about it with homophobes, or with reluctant cis heterosexuals… One must not hide being an Ally to the cause, one must not be politically correct, or worse, be silent. Unfortunately, many allies do not know how to speak, are not equipped and often do so in an obsolete manner, hence the interest of multiplying training, of enlightening. Often, they are also afraid of being stigmatized by being allies…

11- Your meticulous observation over the years has undoubtedly allowed you to notice generational differences in the Queer feminist struggle in Tunisia, both in terms of the substance and the way in which the fight is conducted. Can you tell us more about that?

That’s a road answer! (laugher) I knew several generations of feminists: When I was younger, I knew and rubbed shoulders with the founders of feminism, and I had an eternal fascination for them. I’ll mention two of them: the late Ahlem Belhadj. We’re the same age, yes, but she was a child psychiatrist, my former president at ATFD, and Ahlem fascinated me and always will. Ahlem Belhadj isn’t a person, she’s a mission: she hasn’t gone away and she’s not going to. Ahlem was open to the LGBTQI+ question, I believe, well before anyone else because the word discrimination didn’t exist for her. The 2nd is Bochra Belhaj Hmida: she was carrying the cause before we could even put words to it. Before that, the feminist movement was not in step with what was happening in the world or in the Tunisian society. The LGBTQI+ issue was not raised. Shortly before the revolution, the internet emerged and allowed many people to open up to the world. The LGBTQI+ issue came up just after the revolution, and the decisive turning point that liberated speech and loosened tongues, in my opinion, was led by the young people of the post-revolution period. My greatest joy is to see all these young people still very active in the best-known organisations and associations, and even in new structures. That’s change! The Bras de fer continues… all these young people have joined and continue to join in new ways. That’s always good. I’m not forgetting the feminists too, who are silent… We have to stick together and remain united for the future, because our future remains fundamentally intersectional.

12-Does your stance on the rights of LGBTQI+ people harm you and threaten your safety?

No. I consider myself happy. I was stigmatized when I was young, because of the positions I took, my convictions and my opinions. I was confronted with religious arguments, of course, and called a miscreant. These days I don’t mind: I even use it to formulate arguments and counter-arguments.

13- When did you question your privileges and put them to good use for the Queer cause?

Right from the start … but the real realization came during my presidency of Amnesty International: from the height of my position, my status, my privileges enabled me to be a full ally of the community.

14- At the moment, you're training a number of different professions, often sensitive ones... How do you go about this apprenticeship?

A hard time. (Laughter) From 2015 to 2022, I trained the police. I trained over 1,800 people on the issue of violence against women, and I never missed an opportunity to deal with issues relating to discrimination against the LGBTQI+ community. It was difficult, but there were some nice surprises. I find it simplistic to make the police “the only enemy”: they have power, it’s true, but when it comes to “individual freedoms”, if you take that power away from them, they’re no worse than other professions. Other professions that can be just as virulent and dangerous for the community. I’ve met some wonderful people who are curious, who want to change, who scrutinise, who are open to change. The nice surprises are finding professions that stand firm to protect human dignity. There are always bad surprises too… it’s all part and parcel of the fight. My hobbyhorse is undoubtedly my students: future educators.

15- Do work and involvement go hand in hand?

That’s a philosophical question (laughter). Some people can be involved through their work, like me… others not. What I’m sure of is that the question of involvement remains intrinsic to the individual and we can above all be involved in our day-to-day lives. Having said that, being able to do so through your work remains a great help.

©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • March 28, 2025

“I broadcast the voices of marginalized and non-normative people”

Nazeeha Saeed (She), journalist from Bahrain

By Haithem Haouel
English translation by Yasmine BenSalah

Her atypical career stands out thanks to her opinions, her personal convictions and her commitments to defend human rights without any compromise, including the rights of people with non-normative gender. Nazeeha Saeed is a committed journalist currently living in exile… unable to work freely and safely in her own country: Bahrain. Despite some hardships, she continues to forge her own path, putting her journalistic work to the benefit of freedoms, equality, and the most basic of rights. Her name still echoes in the Arab world: A world where free speech is not easy to achieve, and where freedoms and human rights are often flouted. Nazeeha Saeed confides… without filters.

1-Nazeeha Saeed, since the beginning of your career, you have advocated human rights, as well as the rights of women and minorities, and you fiercely defend freedom of expression through your profession as a committed journalist (notably for so-called intersectional human causes). But who is Nazeeha Saeed?

I grew up in a politically committed family: My mother and aunts fought for women’s rights. The family environment was conducive to meetings and exchanges around human rights since my earliest childhood. My family is politically engaged par excellence, which led me very naturally to be like them. I drew my centers of interest, my convictions, and my profession from this environment. As a journalist initially, I chose to deal with various themes, issues and subjects through journalism and the media. I was made aware of and listened to women and their life narratives from an early age. I learned to listen to others and take action. Journalism has allowed me to shed light on their ills and to learn more about the stakes involved in their rights, the problems they must overcome and the challenges they face. 


2-However, being a journalist in Bahrain must have been a tough job for you ......

Indeed, it is not the most beautiful of jobs to be exercised in Bahrain, and precisely after 2011… When the authorities began to prevent journalists from doing their job properly and to silence them, in particular by taking over the existing media, and also withdrawing the permits of some journalists … myself included.

3- Have you focused solely on women's rights, or have you also dealt with issues relating to other ethnic/ social communities or minorities?

Not directly. I became a journalist in 1999. In 2000/2001, a political change brought about other social and human rights changes, again in Bahrain. These same changes have allowed political activists, or human rights defenders to proliferate, with established and specialized civic organizations, centers and institutions. As a young journalist, at the time, I dealt with current events and subjects relating to their work and to Human Rights. After 3 or 4 years in the job, I was even put in charge of a newspaper column and given a page devoted to human rights news to manage. Women’s rights were important to me, as a politically committed woman and journalist from a politically committed family.

4-You advocate human rights for women and minorities, always through journalism. Do you consider yourself an “ally”?

Many in Bahrain and the Gulf countries, and even in the MENA region and North Africa consider me an Ally because I don’t discriminate: I work without concession with and about everyone on equal footing. “Human rights are for everyone” and it is from this principle that I exercise my profession as a journalist.

5-What is your definition of the word "Ally" in absolute terms?

The term ‘Ally’ is a profound one on which many are building their hopes and expectations. As a journalist, I do my job properly while raising awareness: raising awareness, informing through my journalistic content or through the training that I lead. I’m all about transmitting knowledge and the things I know, and in my opinion, each Ally’s way of operating or being differs, depending on the work they do, or on their own personality or experience, etc. I’m not the only one.. When advocating for a specific cause, it’s always good to be in contact with different allies. Weakened or marginalized communities, including the LGBTQI+ community, consider me an allied journalist, and for me, that is a source of pride.


6-Can you tell us more about the activism landscape in Bahrain? Is there a difference between being an activist in the Gulf (more precisely in Bahrain) and being one in North Africa?

Generally speaking, civil society in the MENA region has long been sealed off by the settlers at first, and then by different authoritarian regimes. The latter have long managed to reduce the impact of civil society and even to eliminate it. Consequently, this gives space to people who work in civil society but who do not defend the rights of underprivileged people, including the LGBGTQI+ community or others who work in organizations for the defense of women’s rights and who are against abortion or equality in inheritance etc. etc. … The result is a civil society that omits minority groups leading to a work that is incomplete. Activists with integrity, awareness and who make human rights the foundation of all their fights, come up against an authoritarian and dictatorial political system, which prevents them from acting or having an impact properly. The Gulf countries are not advanced in terms of Human Rights, compared to North Africa. North Africa, in my opinion, was a precursor, more, thanks to its activists, its civil societies, their stories histories of colonization, and I would even say that Tunisia is the most advanced in terms of Human Rights. Despite the difficulties and new challenges, Tunisia’s existing collective awareness and achievements are unquestionably and by far the most advanced in the Arab world.

7-As a committed journalist, do you ever feel threatened after doing your work?

When I deal with a specific subject, for example, on people of a non-normative gender/ sexuality or when I deal with areas that are taboo, we touch on large fringes of society whose political and religious systems have tried to ignore and shut down their perceptions. Our battles are fought on a legal level, on a social level, and on one related to mindsets. Subjects related to migrants, people from the LGBTQI+ community or even those related to women can cause anger… and with the rise of the rightists, it’s even worse. One is inevitably confronted with a political/legal system and society when dealing with one’s subjects. Personally, I try to do my journalistic work while staying on my guard, keeping my distance and no matter how careful and professional, nothing can prevent us from a hate attack, especially online or on social networks. Often, we are targeted by religious people when we deal with subjects related to bodies, sexuality, and gender. “Haters” who don’t hesitate to call us “Zionists”, “collaborators” or whatever.

8- When did you question your privileges and put them to use in your committed work?

Our privileges, we do not become aware of them overnight… It is acquired over time and emanates from my own person. After 2011 and the Arab revolutions, there was an upsurge of awareness, especially with the emergence of the internet. Activists and journalists became open to the world: they collided, crossed paths and bubbled over. My arrest, my incarceration and the shock felt after this ordeal affected me greatly and at the same time strengthened me. We must protect the rights of all people equally and certainly protect their most basic rights. My privileges didn’t prevent me from being arrested and going into exile… Surely, they weren’t of much use in my country. I certainly have privileges over some people, but far fewer than others. So many hardships have pushed me to get involved, to take part in training courses, to pass on my struggles, knowledge, and skills… to become more tenacious. Hence my interest, among other things, in issues related to minorities.

9-You are at this very moment in exile. You continue to operate while being away from your country. Is your work still as impactful as ever? Or have there been changes?

My exile is due to the fact that my work permit was withdrawn, hence the main reason for my departure. Living abroad allows me to keep on doing my job, and avoid being subjected to any pressure. I broadcast the voices of minorities, people who express their opinions, women, and everyone. In my country, I was constantly threatened with being arrested, with being persecuted… And I started this journey, I committed myself to it and I’m determined to see it through to the end … always. My heart goes out to my family back home. This exile has enabled me to continue to work in safety. Living and working like this suits me: I am at peace and that’s important to me.

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • June 6, 2023

Beyond the Colors

Onstage Queerness through Generations (part 1)

We invite you to discover the artistic Queer Tunisian scene through generations. We are Queer, We are Here and since ever !!

Cast : Ghzala / Gina Gee / Khookha McQueer / House of Alïa; * Myile Alaïa * Miss kamy Alaïa * Ramla Alaïa

Executive production : MOJA Studio

Directed by: Anas Chatty

Preparation & Interview : Karam Aouini,  Ali Bousselmi

Dp : Ahmed Thabet

Camera Operator : Mhamed Zhioua

Sound Engineer : Amine Ben Attia

Gaffer : Mohsen Laouini, Nour zemni

Photographer : Yesmine Abed

Makeup & Costume Design : Ghassen Douissa

Editing : Yassine Bouchnab

Coloring:  Amer Amdouni

Sound Mixer : Baha Ayadi

Graphic Designer : Boshra Jallali

Equipment : Digital Iris

Special thank to : Tetro Lolla

Project : Beyond the Colors 

©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • July 22, 2026

A story of wandering

Ward *: She / He / They - Non Binary

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine Ben Salah

His story is a constant search for a dignified existence and a glimpse of peace. At the age of 27, the young Ward smiles broadly as he comments in retrospect on his perpetual pursuit of self-preservation. From Tripoli to Tunis, dodging and waiting.

After listening to his journey, he gives us complete freedom to present him, as our interlocutor treats with caution some terms that are commonly used such as “refugee”, “asylum seeker”, or even activist. “Ward” is his real first name, which he chose to put forward in order to overshadow another one that is more common, with a Muslim connotation, attributed by his family.

For him, emphasising one name more than another is a way of coping with the far-reaching changes that were about to take place. And if he chose “Ward”, it was to move forward and leave his life in Libya, his native land, behind him.

His awakening was very early merged with his discovery of himself, his body, his gender and his sexuality. Fuelled by curiosity, Ward picked his way through a hostile, dangerous social context and managed to lead a full double life in the middle of Tripoli. A hidden, solitary existence, conducted with suspicion… until the gradual and certain break-up of this precarious tranquillity.

At the beginning, the discoveries ...

As a child he grew up with loving parents. It was more with the extended family, and more specifically with his uncles, that relations clashed for a long time. “We all live in a neighbourhood that brings together the whole extended family. Proximity was inevitable, and so was gossip. My appearance was the subject of gossip, my gender identity or my so-called delicate side was questioned, but strangely, this aspect of my personality was accepted by my parents, who were conservative, of course, but who would step aside when it came to the ‘what will they say’. He recalls. Survival or developing defence mechanisms was learned in the family… before applying them in an even larger and more dangerous society.

Ward discovered his sexuality at an early age and always kept it to himself. At 16, he accumulated encounters, crushes and casual relationships without losing sight of his studies: he opted for natural sciences, then music, then philosophy, and hung on as best he could to pursue his studies in the most unstable Libyan context, because of the revolution and the civil war. 

The queer community in Libya is similar to others, which are simmering in secret in the Middle East, North Africa or elsewhere: this queer life is lived more by night. Its members have their own addresses, their own dating applications, and everything is done out of sight, in the shadows. “Everything was lived in silence before the revolution. It is undeniable that nowadays, tongues are looser and the Internet has brought about change. Queer life is not organised, structured, there but it exists and more than we think… it smoulders under the ambient and very heavy conservatism of society”. Ward deduces by referring to “the Guejmi”, citing other demeaning names like “Bouftat” (a vulgar term attributed to Gays/Queers), and recalls another, the “Chekchaka”, which refers to the Bling Bling side that Queer people can have.

A community life that is constantly in turmoil, which Ward was not keen to join. A loner, and not very sociable, he was content to have very few friends with whom to share the same interests and to keep on having … romances and flings. “Adopting group codes, coming out… I don’t have to try to do all that”. He points out. So, he might as well just carve out his own existence… which is about to escape him.

Everything was lived in silence before the revolution. It is undeniable that nowadays, tongues are looser and the Internet has brought about change. Queer life is not organised, structured, there but it exists and more than we think... it smoulders under the ambient and very heavy conservatism of society

Encounters and consequences…

Ward stealed money and gave it to his first love, and through a series of tumultuous encounters, he became infatuated with a young man 15 years older than him. They became close, socialised and attracted the attention of a neighbour; a ‘Dealer’, who was quick to gossip to the family. He says: “This dealer neighbour went and falsely said that he saw me kissing a man in the car: something I would never do. An uncle came after me with a gun “to save the family honour”, and to eradicate this tare of homosexuality!” he said. 

These events left their mark on him and became the precursors of an imminent escape. It was impossible for him to continue to live in such an aggressive and repressive environment. His parents did not intervene at the time of the violence and his relationship with one of his two brothers began to deteriorate. He left home for a while and then returned, at the insistence of his distraught and mentally exhausted mother. The accumulation of mischief, incidents and violence, which increased from week to week, pushed him to leave … His presence disturbed and fuelled the tension. 

But an umpteenth encounter has led to his definitive departure…

“In September 2019, I met a young man on facebook. We became friends at first … then we had grown closer. This person turned out over time to be extremely possessive, sickly jealous, and very violent. He became insistent, sending repeated “Nudes”… He overwhelmed me to the point of suffocation. The situation got worse when he started to harass me, threatening to expose me to my family, my parents, and everyone. He wanted me to submit by force or else he would disclose me and kill me. A raging psychopath!” Ward recalls. The threats became so alarming that he sent a distress e-mail to an international organisation that would assist him from a distance. The possibility of his departure from the country became obvious, and even necessary. It was a question of survival!

After endless and fruitless searches of international organisations that were unable to take him in, he was finally taken in by the N.I. in Tunisia. He had time to say a hasty goodbye to his family, to collect a few clothes and belongings, to get 60 Tunisian dinars in his pocket and to take off… to finally land at Tunis-Carthage airport on the 10th of January 2020, i.e. two months before the COVID19 pandemic. The torment takes other forms under other skies!

Leaving and awaiting

One page is turned to allow another one to tell the story of a new and equally turbulent chapter in Ward’s short life as he lands in neighbouring Tunisia … with no intention of seeking asylum. “I didn’t know anything about the status of an ‘asylum seeker’ or a ‘refugee’ when I got on the plane to Tunisia… In my head, I just had to go somewhere else!” he comments, looking slightly ironic.

Ignorant of almost everything about the host country: how to get around, its laws… etc. He wandered around trying to protect himself instinctively… The N.I. arranged his arrival and placed him in a studio in La Marsa. A psychologist, money, and rent were promised for a period… A positive impression emerged at first sight, and seemed idyllic in the so-called “most emancipated of Arab countries: Tunisia”. At least, this is the idea he had of his host country.

Ward kept a low profile, avoided making connections on the spot, and tried to find some kind of equilibrium for himself … to no avail. He turned up at the office a week after his arrival, didn’t get his money the first time, and then two officials called him and supervised from afar… But very quickly, disenchantment sets in: “The services and money transactions were done without leaving any tracks, in a nonchalant way, sometimes I had to walk from the northern suburbs to the downtown of Tunis, because I could not afford it… I did not receive my money in full, after they had let me wait for a long time… Very quickly, I understood that this host organisation was taking advantage of the situation and acting as an intermediary: It seemed to me that they were receiving funds from a major global funder to take care of potential asylum seekers in danger of death, and were pocketing a percentage of the overall sum offered on each victim found or contacted. It was like an organised trade of asylum seekers. I reported this to this major funder, but I didn’t get any response”… He relates with great lucidity. “What is despicable is the behaviour, their dubious way of doing things… much more than the money or the services that were missing!”  Ward thought about making a complaint, but he had to do it from abroad. He thought of disclosing the whole thing in an online article… Soon he would know that he was a ” trial case “, or ” lab rat “.

Given the urgency of the situation, the villainous actions and the lack of reactivity, one has to make do with what is available and adapt… To make matters worse, the world was placed under general lockdown because of COVID19 … everything was closed, travel was greatly reduced, and the accommodation of Ward was compromised. 

The noose was tightening...

“Of the three months of accommodation, I was offered an extra month because of the health situation, then I had to find another place to live. The situation was becoming more and more critical. Fortunately, I had a fellow traveller who supported me at that time: he came to my rescue, kept me company and was often present especially during all my altercations. There was one in particular that I will remember for a long time: my run-in with the CEO of the N.I. who had tried to get rid of me from the office with a very haughty and aggressive tone. I decided, after that, to contact lawyers, and to cut off contact with the staff of the organisation”. he recalls. 

So what is the alternative in this time of crisis?

Preferring to take a leap into the void, instead of continuing to suffer, Ward contacted an aunt and his two cousins and stayed with all of them in Cité El Ghazela for a while. He shared the expenses with them but then- left immediately, following a serious dispute… The ultimate option offered to him from then on was to become an “asylum seeker” and obtain his refugee card… So he headed for the asylum seekers’ centre in Bhar Lazreg, despite all the dissuasions he had received… This was in February 2021.  

Envisioned beforehand as a refuge with basic amenities, he immediately came up against the difficult reality. “I was told that the Shelter was not for me and that I would not feel safe or well. I was warned… For my part, I saw it as a legal shelter, a periodic step that I had to validate in order to be able to obtain asylum legally and, above all, my refugee card, which gives me access to healthcare and studies. I had to build a legal status in Tunisia”. he says, with a yellow smile on his face.

The refuge was a building of about 4 flats, each one with 3 to 4 rooms. At least 8 to 12 people live in each flat. The overcrowding, the “Roomates”, who often lack hygiene and with whom he does not get along, made his daily life difficult. The “Shelter” brings together several cultures, mainly sub-Saharan. Ward did not go unnoticed… The situation of the applicants on the spot was much more tragic than he expected. The profiles were often violent and unstable. Ward kept a low profile in a very precarious shelter.

This attitude though did not protect him from harassers and dangers: a Libyan trans person and another former Libyan military man caused him harm, a Mauritanian “sex worker” and a Sudanese man made life difficult for him… The place was cruelly lacking in hygiene, and was only dedicated to Sub-Saharan Africans and a minority of Libyans. The women applicants were placed a little further away. 

The suffocation reached its climax and pushed him to leave … after two years cloistered in this building, located in an unsafe neighbourhood. A “Shelter” that he left recently, once he obtained his refugee card from the U.N. 

“The people who work in this type of organisation are disconnected from the field and do not know the real conditions… The psychologists they provide do not have the tools or the knowledge to deal properly with people from the LGBTQI+ / Queer community. In my case, I fled Libya because I was about to be persecuted on the basis of my gender / sexual orientation…”. Ward notes, relieved to have circumvented yet another hardship.

The wait for a more peaceful future is becoming more and more tiresome… and endless. He has been in Tunisia for three years already. But what next? An infinite number of intrusive and unsuccessful interviews followed, and the impossibility of choosing his host country, somewhere in the West, became clear. His future fate does not depend on him, but on the Western countries that ask for a reduced number of asylum seekers: they choose them after an infinite number of procedures. He now intends to contact the authorities, or embassies, to speed up the procedure for his departure.  

In the meantime, Ward is still in Tunisia, working as a freelance graphic designer, writing, and maintaining some links with people from the community in Tunisia, whom he has met thanks to “Mawjoudin – We exist”, preferring to keep only a few people around him and avoiding going out much. 

He is happy with his acquired “post-Shelter” autonomy, ending on a bitter-sweet note: “It’s all worth living… in spite of everything, there’s no turning back. But you have to be tough and resilient to be able to live through so many twists and turns. I am still sceptical and very worried about the fate of asylum seekers, which is still so precarious, and which could get worse at any moment… Especially after the outdated and shocking statements of the Presidency on the fate of sub-Saharans. I am afraid that the State will attack asylum seekers, a small but real fear. We can’t be sure of anything…”. He says confidently. A blurred vision of the future! Ward ben Mansur concludes, with resignation: “I am just one number among many… awaiting”.

©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • April 25, 2023

A quest for oneself

Meeting with “Leil”, non-binary (He/She), freelance writer

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine Ben Salah

One is not born oneself, one becomes one! or one persists in becoming one. Aspiring to a more just community life and having brandished the banner of individual freedoms at an early age, “Leil” soon came up against the hazards of a turbulent, often hostile existence, but one that continues to be lived to the fullest. Fights, dodging and a perpetual search for peace and reconciliation (un)shape his path.

Kissing oneself

His words sink into our heads! All welcoming, “Leil” reveals himself to us without concessions and ends up taking us very quickly into an existential headlong rush.. Listening to him, it is as if, since his birth the questions have never stopped flooding in. 

It all began in Tetouan, Morocco: “Leil” is an only child of civil servants. He grew up in a North African society, governed by its codes, its heavy patriarchy, its stultifying conformism: the child that he is was already asking himself elementary questions… far too early. As a child, he is already entangled in permanent questioning, linked to sexuality, to the relationship with body and appearance. A vague childhood… the precursor of a stormier adult life.

For him, the boundary between the genders is still elusive. Male/female, man or woman… Questions arise in the midst of puberty, which was full of physiological and emotional changes. A sometimes unpleasant, often blurred feeling hovers and goes hand in hand with weight gain and weight loss, shrinkage of clothing, or rejection of one’s appearance.

It was an awkward time where I hid and did not assume myself … until the stage where being a ‘boy’, where feeling masculine with all its attributes was more and more attractive, even amusing. Wearing a tie, and some of my father’s loose clothes, playing a role, stimulated me and slowly and surely broke the ice around my gender identity. “Leil” blissfully confides to us.

“Leil” was this introverted pre-adolescent… He was not yet able to cultivate his difference until he gradually but surely understood his being. His self-discovery was precocious: groping the other’s body was done in furtive gestures. Touching with people of the same sex became a flirtation and crystallised his physical, emotional, and sexual emotions… and this since the age of 7. This stammering is the culmination of a transition to adulthood, announcing various adventures.

Empowerment

Discovering oneself did not prevent “Leil” from studying English literature at university, and then, much later, journalism… which he did not pursue. The university facilitated the detachment from family, put distance with his parents and the environment in which he grew up. Nothing could be more abnormal… Leaving “Tetouan” meant maintaining his independence, going out to meet people who are similar to him and establishing friendships and love relationships, no matter how deep or fortuitous they may be.

An almost ordinary student life that immediately merged with LGBTQI+ activism, its members and its activities, often carried out in the shadows. “In 2008, I got caught up in the associative life by joining a feminist association through a gathering: the latter introduced me to volunteering, taught me team spirit, and made me discover committed events. A gentle but sure integration, which led me to the pure and hard militancy that was about to take shape: it was only a question of time.” Leil tells us about the creation of the Aswat Collective against gender and sexuality based discrimination, or more commonly known as the Aswat Collective.

Created in 2013 with other activists, “the Aswat collective” shakes up the very framework of his existence: it will echo on a collective and community scale, but also individually. He comments “This step was crucial: it changed my life and I have good memories of it… In spite of everything”.

He quotes calmly. “Aswat” is a fierce advocate for the rights of queer/LGBTQI+ people. The collective allowed him to fully integrate the community… to discover its ups and downs. He declares: “The collective answered my questions, made me think, forged me, made it easier for me to question myself and refine my community existence… With the activists, there were many moments of exchange, we were complementary, united, supportive, and close. Life stories crossed, profiles and life paths merged, multiplied… and many battles became intersectional and were just waiting to be fought”. He recounts nostalgically.

An effervescent community life

8 active and committed members formed henceforth “The Aswat collective”. This core group has grown to about fifteen people. The commitment radiated the community existence, already lived and conducted in Morocco, in silence, in secret…

Their work made sense, and so did their activities: ‘Aswat’ took many LGBTQI+ people under its wing despite the lack of resources. The members did fieldwork, managed to provide social and legal assistance, and also focused on arrests. The struggle with the authorities was becoming more and more intense…

The collective nourished and enriched personal aspects. Members asserted themselves through group activities and their experiences. The alternative movement that was already based on individual freedoms is boosted by the existence of this core group, which focuses its fight more on sexual freedoms. This activism was by then approaching the political and legal spheres and confronting the community with its real context. Indeed, it should be recalled that the Moroccan law criminalises homosexual relations: Article 489 of the Moroccan penal code criminalises “licentious or unnatural acts with an individual of the same sex”. Homosexuality is illegal in Morocco and is punishable by 6 months to 3 years imprisonment and a fine of 120 to 1,200 dirhams.

However, Aswat also shook up “Leil”s’ personal life. He explains: “I have been designated as a ‘woman’ and my physical change did not go unnoticed. Being harassed, assaulted, and made fun of for my appearance was intrinsic to my existence. For a long time, I have lived on the defensive. “Aswat” has remedied this violence. It has protected me and allowed me to come more to terms with myself. Dealing with social violence as a group is much more bearable. The collective became my family, a protective shield. We faced discrimination, oppression, and injustice as a group, creating defence mechanisms for ourselves. In addition to his queer identity, “Leil” is assigned female at birth: discrimination was and is felt on many levels. Being with “Aswat” has protected him symbolically. He quotes: “I don’t feel I have to face society alone anymore”.

This shelter that is the collective therefore favoured self-assertion… and disturbed his relationship with his parents, especially his mother. With resignation, “Leil” looks back on these facts: “My relationship with my parents was already distant. They found it difficult to accept me as I was. At a certain point, I came out. My mother’s shock gave way to total denial. For her, acceptance was impossible.” After this announcement, there was a long break in contact. In order to overcome this difficult situation, the collective substituted itself for his family of origin… at least before its slow yet certain dissolution.

The beginning of the end

In 2014, the collective was able to gain visibility despite the pressure and the prevailing danger. “Aswat” celebrated the international day against Transphobia, with the support of the Dutch embassy. The struggles then continued to grow, to the point of expanding within Morocco and beyond its borders.

The visit of “Aswat” to Tunis, at the occasion of the World Social Forum (WSF), is still present in the mind of “Leil”. He remembers it with a smile. “We were able to participate in the World Social Forum in Tunis (2015). I was invited by Ali Bousselmi (President / founder of Mawjoudin – We exist). My attendance at this important event was the result of a collective collaboration with several participating organisations in Morocco and Tunisia. During this global event, a stand was set up at El Manar campus, to present ‘Aswat’ to the present audience. This activity ended in an argument with some very homophobic people from the Tunisian left. This did not prevent us from waving the LGBTQI+ flag for the first time in the street during the human rights march. A first! It was a beautiful gesture. Both memorable and symbolic.”

As the collective gained visibility through its actions, hostility and violence became more and more prevalent and had a negative impact on the members, who started to disassociate themselves. “Aswat” was intimidated by the authorities and suffered arrests and harassment based on gender identity. Oppression increasingly strangled the collective when they met journalists – especially foreign ones – who came to cover their activities. Families or relatives of members were contacted by the police to denounce their actions. Danger lurked increasingly…

The atmosphere was getting heavier, enmities arose within the very core group, which became exhausted.  A different dynamic began to take hold and relationships began to crumble. Departures to other lands followed shortly: at least two members have applied for asylum. The psychological exhaustion was in full swing, and the end of a common dream was looming on the horizon. “Leil”, on his part, was at a decisive crossroads in his life.

Leaving … or dying

Mentally fragilized and vulnerable, Leil’s desire to leave became more and more pressing. Chronic depression raged, suicidal thoughts crossed his mind. The alchemy that was once present thanks to ‘Aswat’ has dissipated. It was as if a whole existence was disintegrating in his homeland… He had to leave and find a destination quickly. The destination that comes to mind first? It was the Netherlands. He explains: ‘I already had my visa. I had just returned from a gay pride event and the collective had already worked with the embassy before. My heart-breaking and difficult departure is planned: at the right moment, I announced it to close friends, making it clear from the start that I would apply for asylum once I was there. On the other hand, I told my family that I was going for a period. I arrived one weekend at the home of my best friend, a former Aswat member, who was waiting for me on the other side. On a Monday morning, I decided to go to an asylum seekers’ centre or ‘camp’.”

A page is being turned, a new one is being started… We are in April 2017.

Due to a lack of direction, or to a misdirection, “Leil” gets the wrong address before finally arriving at his destination. The asylum seekers’ centre is located on the German borders, far away from the city or all the urban cacophony… Its very existence was unknown. “I only had 300 euros with me. It was urgent to be able to enter the camp. Once there, I went to a cop, who gave me an information sheet to fill in. Coldness, placidity, rigour, and lack of empathy characterised the general behaviour of the agents. A monstrous queue stood in front of the asylum”. he describes.

“Leil” recalls the arrival and his feelings. Shock! Shock at the sight of so many refugees/asylum seekers pouring in from all sides. A heavy police presence was constantly there. The waiting time stretched on for hours and hours in a full room. The vertigo of the unknown and the fear were present: “These were the images that marked me the most when I arrived. Then came my turn! I felt like I was being interrogated in detail, photographed like a criminal. Then they take your fingerprints. The treatment of the policemen was neutral, hard, cold, mechanical. Then begins the detailed police investigation that will be used to create a file that will justify the flight, the asylum application. A file that summarises the experience, with evidence that attests to our activism. All invitations, documents, certificates, photos, papers are requested. A translator was present: every word counted. A third-party organisation ensures that the procedure runs smoothly.” The activist bitterly recalls. Appointments with lawyers and interviews punctuated his waiting time in this “camp””.  The torment continued, but this time in a new setting.

“Leil” was placed in a room, which he had demanded. The risk of running into queer or transphobic people was high. He has not been spared: within the camp, an individual has not stopped harassing him. In order to blur the lines, he had to be discreet. The pressure was permanent, and the solitude and isolation were suffocating. This is what he will remember about this “arrest station”.””You could go out into town, but you had to walk for kilometres to get there. Over 45 minutes of walking! A route that could be done by bike. We were entitled to per diems, meals. Our most basic needs were always accessible: a roof over our heads, hygiene and food, but I was self-sufficient.” 

The asylum centre is like a giant waiting room. People will decide the fate of “Leil” and others… when they deem it necessary. “They will choose a life for us, they will find where to put us, and we will be given a card that is specific to us”. he says.

During this time at the centre, “Leil” formed friendships with queer people, including a trans person from Malaysia and a gay man from Somalia. Bonds that periodically soften the heaviness of daily life before they are out of sight. The critical stage finally came to an end after 6 months. Others may live with this uncertainty for years. A light at the end of the tunnel was finally shining…

A challenging integration

“Leil” gets his refugee card and manages to rent cheaply… far away from the “Camp”. He receives a small amount of money to support himself and is treated by a therapist. The therapist diagnosed him with PTSD, leading to major depression and a form of social anxiety, which subsequently prevented him from getting a job. So he started to write, in the belief that writing is already a form of activism in itself. He soon made connections with queer people and together they formed another queer collective in the Netherlands.

Focusing on his passions and stimulating his artistic spirit were also crucial for him. Learning the local language, giving back to the host country, and having a good status are some of the steps to take to integrate well. “Leil” wants to have his passport so that he could return to Morocco. The distance is eating away at him. He misses his land. His father died and he was unable to attend his funeral… A lot that he had to go through! More than 5 years have passed, and “Leil” wants to return. It is time for reconciliation, with himself and with his native land.

With hindsight, and after so much heartbreak, the notion of militancy is changing for him. He says: “We used to forget ourselves in militancy. Now I am more focused on myself. I don’t ignore myself and I will militate in other ways, but taking care of oneself remains essential.  In North Africa, it’s still very complex to be an activist. The context has to change, so that it becomes less dangerous to resist there.” In the end, “Leil” pinpoints the use of the term “refugee” and would opt for “Nomad” instead.

  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • February 6, 2023

Beyond the Colors

with Khookha McQueer

Our interview with Khookha McQueer a queer visual and performing artist, non-binary transgender activist. Active in raising awareness of the rights of people living with HIV. We will discuss her personal experience, sexual health and people living with HIV’s condition in Tunisia.

Preparation: Karam Aouini & Ali Bousselmi

Execution: Anas Chatty

Filming: Ahmed Thabet & Mohamed Zhioua

Editing: Yassine Bouchent

Graphic Design: Boshra Jallali

Special thank: Zainouba

©Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Blog Mawjoudin
  • February 2, 2023

One journey, Several lives

Yahia Zaidi, Algerian Queer activist

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine Ben Salah

 

Yahia Zaidi has been caught up in activism and has continued to refine his commitment on all fronts for the past 20 years. A native of Algeria, everything began for him in there. It is indeed impossible to remain indifferent to his ardor for a just life, full of human values, in the service of defending human rights of queer and LGBTQI+ people.

Hearing him, it seems as if he was born for this kind of commitment. For Yahya, life is intrinsically linked to his thirst for activism, especially for the benefit of defending the human rights of LGBTQI+ people. Assisting, supporting, and providing for the needs of a vulnerable community quickly tempted him… at a time when he was pursuing an ordinary architecture-student life in Algiers.

We are in 2007 and his desire to get involved in the prevention of HIV/Aids was immediately felt

“I offered my help especially to this exposed social category of men who have sex with other men. Gays in Algiers were naturally concerned. An action of this magnitude could only touch me”.

Fervently led beginnings that reflect an activism strictly linked to intimacy… Fulfilling oneself, largely on a personal level, had to start with this stage. Yahia was surviving through a forced and violent coming-out at 17 and was trying to meet up with some friends. Queer-community life was bubbling discreetly in different places of the country, who had just emerged from the black decade.“As long as the community didn’t attract attention, lived in the shadows, it could live. We would only have peace if we stayed out of sight,” comments the activist.

Soon after, his involvement began to grow…online. The “Abu Nawas” forum brought together many interesting profiles and expanded his network of acquaintances, at the very time when he was moving up the ladder in his fight against HIV-AIDS. “Abu Nawas” experienced many upheavals before fading out … but only temporarily.

Seeing “Abu Nawas”vanish was unthinkable for Yahia as well as for countless committed and involved activists in this virtual space. A rebirth took place immediately thanks to the mobilization of a group of committed and very active people on the Gays and Lesbians Algerians (GLA) forum, who gave a second life to the Abu Nawas group, by setting up photo campaigns, online videos and speaking out during TenTen, the national LGBTQI+ day in Algeria. The strength of “Abu Nawas”resided in its network. Its representativeness, mostly ethnic, was unique. The experience was stimulating at the dawn of the emerging social networks.

 

Yahia Zaidi’s breakthrough for the prevention of HIV STD AIDS was made in close collaboration with at least 17 Algerian ministries, representatives of the State and civil society. Many were members of the AIDS Council. His preventive work was spread out within the framework of a regional project which brought together Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia and Lebanon. Yahia benefited from capacity building within the ATL MST Sida – Tunis section, who welcomed him within the framework of exchanges and sharing of experiences.

Devoting himself to the prevention and fight against HIV was a fruitful period for the activist. He remembers: “I continue to apply all the principles learned at that time, until today. I learnt to sort out the projects, particularly those coming from European partners, to properly measure whether it is suitable for our national or regional context and not to exploit them nonchalantly. I think we shouldn’t stop accomplishing as long as it’s done in a thoughtful way. This is how we can better measure the dangers and how we can protect ourselves. All my defense mechanisms have been reinforced. After this period, I know how to do what I do best today, which is to defend the human rights of people in the MENA and African regions and to broaden horizons for the global south.”

His journey, which promises to be hectic, has also turned out to be dizzying. Yahia Zaidi scoured the courts, gave courses at the school of judges, visited some prisons, carried out actions with the Ministry of Justice and provided medical support for people living with HIV, or vulnerable and exposed populations.

The adventure had become stormy when at one point, the committed collective of which he took part, was accused of being pro-Sionist and USA and when its members became targeted. It was a propaganda carried out by a pro-Islamist media. Death threats, harassment and insecurity hovered. “Despite everything, we withdrew before resuming the fight, but silently. This period was extremely difficult”. Shortly after that, Zaidi finds refuge in Belgium. A second life was offered to him, with his small victories and his failings.

Same struggle under different skies

Once in Belgium, Yahia Zaidi landed a job as a social worker and talked mainly with asylum seekers from many countries. A job that was done by circumventing the language barrier, by guaranteeing social, medical, psychological, legal, administrative follow-up, and by providing materials and food to all those in need. Services that ultimately led to a full social integration of the people taken care of, and that was done under the supervision of the host country. “We brought back many trans and gay people and guaranteed transitions. We focused on vulnerable populations at the beginning, such as elderly people with chronic illnesses, single mothers, etc., and then we managed to get the federal government to integrate people from the community and make them a priority. We even made family reunification, which was not possible in other resettlement countries such as France, Norway or others. In Belgium, there was more freedom to act”. Declares the activist. 

 

Yahia Zaidi was a member of Maison Arc-en-Ciel (the Brussels federation of LGBTI associations) in Brussels, which offered services to Queer asylum seekers. In partnership with Pride and the federal agency for the reception of asylum seekers FedAsil (He made sure to provide them with a “Safe” place in which they could all meet. asylum seekers from all over the world, they all met for a day and engaged in activities. Omnya was also co-created. A prolific period for the activist who was focused on action. He says: “I was often told: ‘What’s the point of being dead when going back to one’s homeland? One might as well be useful outside.” Omnya was also intended to unite people from the LGBTQI++ community who were repressing their broken identity. The association addressed mothers in order to bring them closer to their LGBTQI+ children and organized trainings. But as so often in civil society, management and leadership problems began to emerge… Wars of ego were raging. And Zaidi eventually left.

Seizing the turning points

“One of the most beautiful stages of my journey is undoubtedly “Aids Algérie”, in the first place and “MantiQitna”. It was then that I started to act internationally and in the MENA region, despite all discrimination”. he quotes. Its mission was to mobilize all the living and committed forces of the Maghreb and others. A detailed cartography began to emerge in 2010 and has continued to develop, reaching around twenty groups of associations or collectives in several southern countries. An associative web that was beyond borders has been created and this is how Yahia has supported the creation of numerous associations in the Maghreb and in Sudan. MantiQitna’s mission was to support this effervescence, including the feminist and intersectional one. MantiQitna was born thanks to Rauda Morcos with the help of 8 other co-founders: an Egyptian, a Jordanian, three Lebanese, three Palestinians and Yahia Zaidi, at the head of the Maghreb, with only him, at the start. “At our first conference called “QamB MantiQitna”, only 11 North Africans participated, compared to about thirty from the Mashreq. A problem of representativeness hovered. Discrimination even took place within MantiQitna, but it was immediately driven out thanks to  strengthening of the ranks, and to the North Africans who were united to create the first Khomsa network which gave birth to Damj and other groups”. Declares the activist.

 

Yahia Zaidi was elected Co-president of Pan Africa ILGA (2012-2016) during his term. And after disintegrating in 2010, the African federation was revived via two regional conferences organized in 2014 and 2016. The association was based in South Africa and an office was opened in the same country. Yahia was also elected Deputy Secretary General of ILGA World (2016-2018). He is currently the Advocacy Director of the global interfaith network GIN-SSOGIE. He has long made his way since his departure from Algeria 15 years ago and concludes: “I would not allow myself to talk about Algeria or to represent it after all these years. Morally, I do not have the legitimacy to do so. The idea of bringing together or initiating other people, of facilitating their access to international and regional platforms, will be an integral part of my work… always.”

© Photo: Anas Chatty, © Design: Boshra Jallali
  • Beyond colors, Blog Mawjoudin
  • January 31, 2023

Fragments of a Queer Life

Encounter with Bochra Triki, Feminist, Queer and multidisciplinary:

By Haithem Haouel

English translation by Yasmine Ben Salah

 

 

If asked to introduce herself, Bochra Triki doesn't know what to say. She cracks a smile, seems to be pondering and stays on the lookout for definitions thrown at her. “I am a feminist, Queer, it is a part of my identity which I try to deal with in a multidisciplinary way”. she says. A beautiful but brief presentation that considerably trim down an atypical career and a decade of her twenties devoted to the Queer and feminist cause in Tunisia. "Boch" is in her thirties and her rich experience speaks for itself...

The beginnings of Queer and feminist activism

At the corner of an alley, we met her. Thirsty for exchanges, we finally found refuge in a pub in Tunis. This Tunis, a place of life and theater of all socio-political developments, has a unifying vocation in the eyes of Bochra, she who has always sought to bring people together, create moments of life, encourage encounters, unify people around an artistic event or an action.

I like creating moments, gatherings and experimenting. The exchange is crucial: all my thought was built through my encounters. It is immensely important to me.

Squares, streets or avenues recount moments that mark her journey as a young activist in the making and as an asserted activist. A downtown that she has roamed since her teenagerhood, and one that she continues to explore until this day, over the course of her actions as an “Artivist”.

This unbreakable bond which binds her to Tunis was welded early, since 2006, a time during which she intuitively began to weave links with Feminist and Queer groups. Diverse encounters made by chance, common interests and shared passions already outlined a distinguished community existence. “A few years before the revolution, I started hanging out with Queer groups. At that time, being Queer was not a politicized act. We were individuals who for a long time thought they were alone, who recognized each other and grouped together. It also went hand in hand with the party world. We created time-spaces to be ourselves. We all existed spontaneously, being visible everywhere we went and we didn’t hide. We felt untouchable together”. Bochra says speaking of that time -afterwards- that existing like this was already a way of asserting oneself, and a form of “activism”.

 

And then comes the revolution…

“Boch” is part of this in-between generation: one who knew Tunisia before and after the 2011 revolution, an insurrection of the people that shakes lives, changes their trajectory and disrupts its own. .

Like a shocking wave, this revolution had a significant impact on student life in Tunisia, especially in Tunis. Groups were created, initiatives were born, the committed and militant spirit hovered within the walls of universities but also down the streets. Tunisian youth was dreamy and optimistic. A new era had begun with its own share of hope.

 Once a student at the ENS (Ecole Normale Supérieure de Tunis), she witnessed the birth of a dynamic of exchange between students, wondered about non-normativity and became interested in social issues. She remembers: “ January 2011 was a huge turning point for me, as for many others. Prior to this fateful event, prospects were extremely dim. As young students, our career plans, our desires, our goals were limited, and almost immediately drawn. And suddenly, we could push the limits, outdo ourselves, create and act freely.”. This need to be reactive without necessarily belonging to a well-defined movement had become pressing.

Bochra begins a career as an academic and continues to be on every front: Civil commitments, human rights, freedom of expression. And considering her belonging to an alternative and artistic universe, her thirst for impact and action was increased tenfold. “It was important for me to also express myself through art. It is close to my heart to deal with human rights, Queer feminism, while getting inspired by a book, by a film, or via a cultural, artistic action or an event”. To act intelligently and in an indirect manner is to divert an experience or certain aspects, always through art. Devoting herself entirely to this had become a conviction to the point where she put an end to her career as a university professor, a specialist in modern literature, to devote herself entirely to activism, and respond to the call of “Chouf”, a stage that was very crucial to her career.

A major turning point

Living and acting in a community took on its full meaning for her in 2015, when she attended the creation of “Chouftouhonna”, the first Tunisian feminist festival, organized by “Chouf”.

Created in 2013, the Tunisian LBT (Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender) and feminist organization campaigned for the bodily and individual rights of people identifying as “Women” . United around the same principles and values, members of “Chouf” organized their actions, events and initiatives around Queer feminism. “Chouf” had, in its early days, already organized the first “IDAHOT” in Tunisia in the premises of the ATFD. A major event that brought her closer to the “Tunisian Association of Democratic Women” -Pioneer of the feminist struggle in Tunisia- by creating an intergenerational dialogue between feminists.

“At the very beginning, and with modest means, we wanted to move the lines, to move things forward. “. she comments. With the birth of “Chouftouhonna”, “Chouf” was consolidated: Bochra Triki worked on the festival and participated in the creation of projects during the year.

Everything was done gradually: The actions of “Chouf” attracted people from the community, who were gathered around a political thought, and eager to act through art . “For me, it was perfect. It was an opportunity to give meaning to what I had always wanted to do. It was no longer about me, as an individual, but about a cause: an intimacy that is politicized as a group. It was the first time that I wanted to belong to “a force”. she declares. She was appointed co-president of the collective and actively participated in the organization of the 4 editions of the festival.

With hindsight, the activist remembers “Chouf” as not having a classic and rigid structure. The doors of this collective were indeed wide open to all people who felt concerned. The organization, which has constantly changed from 2013 to 2018, has produced artistic works, organized exhibitions, advocacy, provided legal and psychological support to Queer people, migrants, seekers of Asylum, and guaranteed accommodation for queer people in precarious situations. “What was more visible was the “Chouftouhonna” festival, a showcase accessible to everyone. As for the actions that we did in normal times, they were more intended for the community.”  But this driving force, which was “Chouf”, has soon run out of steam.

When the bell tolls…

“Chouf” was not able to resist through time and was slowly but surely fading out. The 4 th edition of “Chouftouhonna” was held, despite the difficulties. Nostalgic, slightly bitter, but grateful for what this universe has done for her, Bochra Triki evokes this period with great lucidity, mentioning the difficult psychological impact that the end of the Chouf experience had on her and on other members.

 

However, 5 years after its end, she would say that there wasn’t a single cause for this adventure to be over, and she underlines an accumulation of problems linked to the bad management of a structure that is thought horizontally, but without a proper mastery of the codes suitable for that. “Chouf” had operated on a voluntary basis for years until 6 months before it fell apart. The transformation of the collective into the premise of an organized and wage-based structure has radically affected the internal dynamics, and has called into question the very essence of the collective, its objectives, and its main mission. Staying ethical and separating what’s personal from the collective’s vision was not easy.

 

The personal has indeed joined in the turmoil, Bochra does not deny it : “ The personal aspect is totally present in “Chouf”. In no way do I deny this: the personal and the dedicated work involved in a collective like ours are bound to merge. Our queer and feminist struggles and gatherings are intrinsically linked to our intimacies. We found ourselves caught in a bubble generating personal stories, sometimes painful, often courageous, linked to our love in its multiple forms, which we share and experience. A collective engaged in this kind of struggle exists through and for personal relationships. Otherwise, it loses its original meaning.”.

This intimacy, however, played an important role in the collapse of the collective. The core group did not have the tools or means to better manage crises. “ If we were more experienced, we might have done things differently. Age played a big part too. Ours and that of our struggles. We did not have the necessary learning at the time to better manage the personal aspects and the defective elements that brought about this end.” She points out. 

If a collective like “Chouf” were to be created nowadays, Bochra would henceforth favor the mastery of horizontality in a collective. “A horizontality which has its codes, its ways of being applied in order to remain viable and faithful to its own ethics, which would deconstruct the classic patterns of functioning while being strong enough to withstand difficulties.”.

She hopes for the emergence of stronger structures built around human causes. “Having a constructed political thought and venturing into self-financing are also important.”, recommends the activist.

The activist is grateful to “Chouf: “ It’s a collective that built me. It was immensely hard to watch it disappear. It’s reassuring to see other collectives popping up these days, and taking over. They can do better and not repeat our mistakes. I’m here to support and encourage them.” She advocates a continuity different from that of “Chouf”, but specifies: “I do not accept that we get erased. I don’t understand why it is happening. People who were part of “Chouf” or “Chouftouhonna” still keep the precious connections they created before, they left a trace and were shaped while being part of this collective. One day, I hope there will be a real work of documentation around this experience. We haven’t archived or documented properly. We were more action-oriented, and rather busy doing things.”. 

Tunisian post-2011 civil society was flourishing, it was dense: associations, collectives, and NGOs emerged and maintained many struggles. This awakening was considerable, and it is in this “ecosystem” that “Chouf” lasted for 5 years. The weight and impact of such an effervescent civil society are indisputable: Bochra Triki confirms it… nevertheless with a slight regret. “I regret that post-2011 civil society didn’t get to experience one stage; that of acting without means, spontaneously, and on the field. It is to exist in collectives, groups, without funding, in a completely raw state. We didn’t have time to live that way. After 2011, we went from nothing to a multitude of accessible funds, everyone rushed at it. We found ourselves following the lines of funders and donors who do not necessarily have the same codes or values as us. Other criteria arose, other ways of doing things too… And in this turmoil, everyone was trying to adapt, as best they could and go with the flow.” The very essence of certain noble struggles has thus been dissolved.

At the time of the post-revolutionary burnout

Today, 12 years after the outbreak of the revolution, militancy is stagnating. A collective burnout is felt among activists, citizens, and politicians. Passion has given way to weariness and fatigue. Bochra Triki comments on this frozen situation, one that is on standby, since 2019. She sees it, yes, but always with a tint of hope: “Civil society is stagnating for lack of transmission. A transmission is still possible to maintain. After all, we ourselves were disconnected from the generation that preceded us. The new generation is immensely powerful, but also very disconnected, perhaps by choice. A generation that prefers to function in a more anarchist way, which is not to be sniffed at.”. She comments in conclusion. The activist thus refers to existing standardized structures and institutions whose operating model is archaic and a non-existent political class that has been lost by dint of having changed. As for the Queer and feminist cause, it will remain intrinsic to her thinking and inseparable from her future actions.