Early this year, Nelson C.J, a young Nigerian writer, wrote a New York Times piece about being a queer Nigerian, and the nagging vicissitudes of getting an inclusive church community. Apparently, most of the churches he’s tried have only used the ‘inclusive’ tagline as a lure, but never really practice what it means to be wholly accepting. Three weeks later, as part of Café Republic’s ‘Literary Evenings Series,’ I moderated a conversation between Nelson and Ferdinand Adimefe, the founder of The Tribe Lagos, the church Nelson had used as a significant anchor for his essay.
One thing was clear during the conversation, the church, in all its claims of new-age radicalism, youth vibrancy, and ubiquitous peddling of wholesome inclusion, would never jettison some of the archaic tenets on which ‘Christianity stands,’ one of which is totally accepting queer people, without subtly expecting them to ‘change’.
What is love if not the total acceptance of another person? If the love of Christ is at the centre of the core Christian values, why then do churches bait minorities using Christ’s love, by advertising something they could never give them?
Sometime during the discussion, Ferdinand would wonder why queer people could not just bask in the fact that there was at least a church that allowed them in. This is benevolent homophobia like Nelson correctly writes. And, as magnanimous as it appears, there is almost always a hint to be grateful for having a safe space to worship, and that in itself, that should count for something, even if the church could not publicly speak against the killing and harassment of queer people in the country.
In 2017, when Chibuihe Obi was kidnapped after he published his We’re Queer, We’re Here, essay in Brittlepaper, some opinionated homophobic heterosexuals, in their moments of vainglorious ‘allyship,’ had wondered why he had to “announce his homosexuality” to the world by writing an essay. No one ever wonders why straight people are allowed to write essays about their dogs and their relationships and mundane things about themselves. No one accuses them of advertising their sexuality even if, in the essays, they’d talk about heterosexual sex and public displays of romantic affections that only straight people are allowed to indulge in. It is as though “being allowed to be queer” is enough, why go on living your life and documenting your life? In fact, why “shove your sexuality down our throats?” Maybe because you are only being tolerated, you should learn to trim down on your fun, your words and your humanity. And, of course, you must be grateful for being allowed to exist.
Sadly, there is beginning to be a pattern of people asking for gratitude or things in return, when they’ve offered assistance to people in the queer community, or merely just close to queer people. If I had a dollar for every time I have seen straight people on Twitter start homophobic threads with “I have gay friends, but…” as though having gay friends and not killing or harassing them is something you should be worshipped for; as though being a decent human being makes you deserving of a medal of honour.
One striking question during the conversation was the question of privilege. Someone had asked Nelson and the pastor if they both acknowledged their privileges. I couldn’t be bothered about the privileges that the pastor must enjoy, or that his church has an elitist and classist atmosphere. I was only concerned about inferring that someone who, for the most part, had struggled with defining and coming to terms with his sexuality in a homophobic country where unsuspecting gay people are lured to be killed, raped and extorted; and was constantly battling with getting a church that just wanted him to come the way he was, without asking him to shed a part of him, was privileged because he at least found a church that he could go without being hunted down.
The decent freedom that heterosexuals enjoy are mostly luxuries to queer people, especially those living on the Lagos mainland. You are at risk of being catcalled, harassed, even beaten up. So, it is mind-boggling that something as transient as the freedom to go to church and be safe is a luxury that should be acknowledged. But the consideration of this human rights defilement as a privilege is something I am still trying to recover from.
After winning the Brunel Prize for Poetry, Romeo Oriogun was chastised for his ‘privilege’. That it was his “gay politics” that won him the prize. No one talked about the incredible brilliance of the poems that he submitted. No one mentioned that every metaphor, every image used in every one of his poems, were raw and scathing, and exposed you to the harsh realities of being “an other.” No one ever mentioned that he was writing “gay poems” before he won the prize. Until he won the prize. The verdict was that Chris Abani was trying to handpick only queer people for awards. And that Romeo should acknowledge his privilege because he would not have won the prize if he wasn’t a gay person who submitted gay poems. This leaves you wondering if anyone has had to ask straight people why they wrote poems. No one ever tells them to celebrate their privilege when they win prizes that even queer people applied to. Or do straight people also have to explain to the public that they didn’t win an award because of their heterosexuality? Unless, of course, women who are pushed to convincing men that they did not sleep with another man to get their hard-earned success.
Why does there have to be privileges with queer people? Why should going to church and not getting hurt be something to be called a privilege? Why do we only ask queer people why they continue to go to church when it is clear that churches do not want them? Why does it have to be queer people answering questions that no one ever asks straight people? What is so irritating about queerness that they are subjected to beg for, and be grateful for having, the basic things that other people get by virtue of their heterosexuality?
Another question came up: about if queer people are holding onto Christianity and other religions because of antiquated dogma and traditional sentiments? When, sometimes, your life—or loss of it—depends on the religion you proclaim, this question appears as being insensitive. Further questions arise about if straight people have to answer the same question. Many heterosexual people are intentionally disconnected from the realities of queer people. This way, they do not have to process the grief of identity because they assume it is received on silver platters. Many Christians cannot possibly see religion as an institution that should allow queer people in because as far as they are concerned, they are “abominations that even god destroyed in Soddom. The religious ignorance is laughable. I know Christians that do not think that queer people are deserving of spirituality because god frowns at what they are. Many fail to realise that, like Leye Adenle said, “it’s time we stopped living by man-made borders and start to see the world for what it really is: one interrelated, interdependent, indivisible unit.”
Maybe we should start by knowing that queer people are humans with sentiments. And, for some people, like Nelson, who sang in the choir when he was growing up, the Christian faith is something they have grown used to, and the only anchor on which they hinge their spirituality. Should they be denied their worship because the church doesn’t want them? Or should we ignore the fact that religion, while providing a safe space to worship, is stifling some people’s rights to be the unchanging and unbending queer version of themselves?
If Jesus Christ, the originator of the Christian faith, didn’t mind associating with sex workers and tax collectors, why are churches scared of tackling social issues? Why are they only concerned about the few hours spent worshipping? Do they care enough to what some members are going through? Do they care enough to hold governments accountable to treating everyone equally? Do churches even know how powerful they can be? Or is it a deliberate negligence of issues that queer people face?
Rather than keeping quiet and watching while people are hunted down for existing, churches could do better by standing with equal rights for everybody. This is considering the fact that religion is one of the effective tools and excuse for homophobia and violence against queer people. As such, it is not enough to allow queer people in. Churches have a sacrosanct following around here because, as much as we pretend to be a secular country, religion plays an integral role in steering affairs. Therefore, it is imperative that institutions like that do not fold their arms and look away. They owe it to the religion to not just preach love but show it in service.
No, churches do not explicitly need to go an extra mile for queer people. But, religious houses, considering how they thrive on the involvement of humans for their development, should be willing to create a better environment for everyone who subscribes to their dissemination of salvation.
Many questions to be asked, many to be answered, but one thing stands, queer people deserve a place of worship where they do not need to barter their humanity for spiritual comfort. And, as heart-breaking as this might sound to many people, Christianity is not based on sexual orientations, meaning it is not for only heterosexual people.
Adefolami Ademola is a writer, content developer, and sometimes, social commentator. His nonfiction pieces have been published in Akoma, The Nerve Africa, The Rustin Times, The Afro Vibe, Ynaija, Newshunter, Ebedi Review, Entropy Magazine, Ktravula, Anathema Magazine, to mention a few. Follow him on twitter @Lagos_Tout.
The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this Op-Ed by the Writer are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Rustin Times.
