I am self-full when it comes to money. I have learned to safeguard it even if it means the worst can happen. As lockdown was imminent, I stocked up on alcohol knowing it would be an opportunity to make money. Having basically lived off of per diems for most of 2019, I needed to allay my fears of poverty whilst in isolation. Living with others I support meant that this was more than just my stomach, but those of my queers in residence and in part their family back in villages. The profits helped cushion us for the first three weeks. This freed up our minds to actually rest and think of new ways of sustaining ourselves whilst writing up proposals for delayed albeit emergency response funds to support CSOs and communities. This time has also led me to think about how expensive life is as a queer body.
Many of us are targets of opportunistic individuals that either feed off us or use our vulnerabilities against us. The entire LGBTQ+ spectrum I have come across in my work have had similar experiences. Where you seek out or end up in an intimate situation or relationship because of what that would come with. For some, it comes with petrol to go to work, support to get a job, a roof over your head or to feed subsistence use. The individuals aren’t to blame. It is the structural systems that impede us from thriving in our truths. Whether as gay, trans or intersex; non-recognition in legal protection, deficient social protection and lack of universal health care are all contributors. These are largely dictated by the economy. Politics, legislature and society exist within the framing of economic development, where socio-economic rights recognize the availability of resources to realise rights.
The capitalist and free-market systems continue to fail our queerness. As what is acceptable would subscribe to norms created by capitalism. How one should look and present themselves, what would be appealing in a market and who is deemed valuable to demand dignified pay. It brings in colonial legacies of racism and gender parity, whilst our existence is criminalized and our bodily autonomy is policed. Even more subtle are how inequality rears itself in the form of relief and recovery efforts. Banks providing payment holidays that only accrue interest charges for future profit. Denying health systems of much-needed funds for infrastructure but creating timely solutions for corporates that have always made profits. Even worse, is Botswana increasing electricity by 22% whilst forcing everyone to stay home. All these impacted by corruption, maladministration and white-collar crime that is too capitalist to fit into the penal code.
This begs me to question why governance as a concept and democratic tool absolves itself from the economic parameters of our existence. That it is convenient for illicit financial flows to be investigated without appropriate recourse or to explore state capture only when aspects of it dominate public discourse. I am left curious to why and how we allow extractive tools to dictate how efficient our tax regimes are, as this impacts how effective judicial, social protection and health systems are. Feminist inquiry requires this broad view of the challenges being queer faces as the world is affected by them. It demands that no single struggle is absolved or unconnected from others. It addresses the impunity political parties give themselves when changing leadership. Reflecting how an elected leader is not the system that deprives us of peace and prosperity.
Queer-antine compels me to further investigate my thoughts. That they are no longer drowned out by business as usual and prominent narratives who determine which of my struggles is valid. It demands of me not be overwhelmed because of what I have already survived. Rather that it allows for me to frame how economic violence impends our dignity whether living in a crisis or not. That we are under- or unemployed, vendor trading against the absurdity of bureaucratic municipal bylaws whilst the elite and their institutions get subsidies and recognition for extracting worker’s irrevocable time away from healing, learning or connecting with family. This is why we share our stories: that we are not reduced to linear development narratives that cannot accept and address our whole, as individuals or communities.
Dumi is Pan African and unequivocally non-binary queer feminist working on eliminating the barriers between grassroots experiences and global policy-making through Success Capital.
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.
