Reuben Abati who delivered a lecture at this year’s special
event on Human Rights, Sexuality and the Law, reports on the plight of
the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and/or intersex community
in Nigeria
I was invited to deliver the keynote
address at this year’s special event on ‘Human Rights, Sexuality and the
Law’, an annual symposium organised to promote awareness on issues
relating to the plight of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer
and/or Intersex (LGBTQI) Community in Nigeria. When this was announced
on social media by the organisers, The Initiative For Equal Rights
(TIERS) and @YNaija, hell practically broke loose within the LGBTQI
community.
I was dismissed as a wrong choice, and
the organisers were accused of being insensitive to the feelings of the
community. A broad-based protest was launched on twitter and there were
essays on the subject on NoStringsNG.com (the online media advocacy
platform for LGBTQI issues in Nigeria), with the most scathing objection
written by Bisi Alimi, the Nigerian-born, London-based gay rights
activist. Bisi Alimi described me as a “homophobe.” He said the
invitation extended to me was an abuse of TIERS, and he was offended
that a group he had helped to co-found, would offer its platform to an
“oppressor.”
Following a pre-event twitter chat with
me on the subject, co-ordinated by @YNaija, the attacks got even more
aggressive. Someone wrote that having Reuben Abati as Keynote Speaker
was like inviting the “KKK to an NACCP event.” An article written by
Kritzmoritz and published by KitoDiaries.com (another Nigerian LGBTQI
blog) was titled “Of TIERS, Reuben Abati and all that angst.”
The anonymous author reflected the
sentiments of the gay community in the following words: “Let me get this
out of the way from the onset so we are clear. I don’t like Mr. Reuben
Abati. Over the past five years, I have come to view him as a rather
unpleasant human being…” Another commentator, Mandy in a piece titled
“There is no engaging with a keynote Speaker” took the additional step
of launching an online petition and called for signatures to “drop
Reuben Abati” because in his or her view: “you cannot invite the person
who killed me to come apologise at my funeral; things are not done that
way.”
My offence is that I had participated in a
discussion of the Same Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act 2014 shortly
after President Goodluck Jonathan signed it into law. Alimi, in
particular, was on an Al-Jazeera panel with me. He argued that I
exhibited homophobia, defending the law. The complaints by the gay
community were so loud and their objection to the possibility of my
being allowed to invade “their space” was so trenchant. I called the
organisers to ask if they were considering a change of mind about their
choice of Keynote Speaker. Their answer was in the negative.
On December 14, I participated in what
turned out to be a lively, engaging, open and inclusive symposium on
Human Rights, Sexuality and The Law. I did not see any reason to beat
about the bush. I opened my address with a response to Alimi and the
critics. The labels used to describe me do not fit me. I am neither a
homophobe nor an extremist. My views are liberal and I consider the
rights of every man to be ontological, interdependent and indivisible.
These rights are well-covered in all the
major nine documents on International Human Rights, including the
Universal Declaration on Human Rights (1948) and its 30 articles, the
International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination (1965), the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights (1966) and the International Convention on the Elimination of
All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (1979). Nigeria is a signatory
to majority of these conventions, protocols and covenants as well as
the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (1981). Chapters Two
and Four of the Nigerian Constitution, 1999, expressly uphold these
rights.
The enactment of certain legislations
such as – The Fundamental Rights (Enforcement Procedure) Rules 2009,
HIV/AIDS (Anti-Discrimination) Act, 2014, Violence Against Persons
(Prohibition) Act, 2015, the National Human Rights Commission Act, 2015,
the Prohibition Against Domestic Violence Law No 15 of Lagos State,
2007, Gender Based Violation Prohibition Law of Ekiti State, 2011,
Trafficking in Persons (Prohibition) Law Enforcement and Administration
Act, 2003, the Legal Aid Act, 2011 and the Child Rights Act, 2003 – also
point to considerable advancements in human rights legislation in
Nigeria since 1999. Human rights are important. They are indeed matters
of urgent and high priority because they are at the core of the idea of
our humanity. They are indispensable vehicles for achieving peace,
stability, justice and development in the world. Every human being is
entitled to these rights; to devalue the right of any person is to
violate that person’s right to dignity and justice.
Nigeria in spite of acknowledged
advancements remains a nightmare where human rights are concerned. The
failure of institutional mechanisms and the absence of political will to
translate constitutional rights into effective human rights realities
have resulted in what is clearly a governance and accountability crisis.
The average Nigerian suffers the after-effects in various ways:
poverty, lack of access to justice, violence, kidnappings, police
brutality, extortion, wanton resort to self-help by both state and
non-state actors, and a general regime of lawlessness reminiscent of the
brutal days of military rule. Political leaders and state officials are
so powerful that they have no regard for the people. They choose when
it is convenient for them to respect court orders.
There is a disconnect between Nigeria’s
international human rights obligations and what it does at home,
creating conflicts and tensions in the implementation of human rights
law. Nigeria is a member, for example, of the ECOWAS Community Court of
Justice, but the government routinely ignores the rulings of this
strategic regional court. Non-state actors are emboldened by the
negligence of state actors to take the law into their hands, as seen in
the conflict between Corporate Responsibility and Human Rights in
Nigeria. Nigeria is a member of the International Labour Organisation,
the enabling principles of which are covered in the Labour Act, 2004,
but with the unemployment crisis in the country, employers of labour
trample on the rights of workers at will. The non-justiciability of the
social, economic, cultural and group human rights goals in Chapter Two
of the Nigerian Constitution further compounds the nightmare.
It is within this overall context of the
human rights situation in Nigeria, that the issue of sexuality is to be
located. Section 15 (2) of the 1999 Constitution talks about national
integration without discrimination on the grounds of sex, among others.
Section 17 states that the social order is founded on the ideals of
“freedom, equality and justice”, while Section 17(3) says state policy
shall be directed towards “all citizens, without discrimination on any
group whatsoever”, a goal that had earlier been covered also in Section
14(2)(b). Section 42 further upholds every Nigerian’s right to freedom
from discrimination. Whereas the Constitution talks about sex, and not
sexuality or gender orientation, the principle of equality before the
law and the right to be human is without exemption of any persons or
groups. Article 2 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights indeed says sex should be taken to include sexual orientation and
gender.
Minority groups are often targets of
violence in Nigeria – apart from ethnic and religious minorities, women,
children, the girl-child and the physically challenged, perhaps the
most targeted and the most violated in recent times are members of the
LGBTQI community. Gays in Nigeria have found themselves in a hostile
society. There have been reported cases of persons with suspected LGBTQI
orientation being subjected to various forms of violence: kidnapping,
extortion, rape, assault, inhuman and degrading treatment, denial of
access to justice and curtailment of their fundamental rights. The state
looks the other way, the rest of society says serves them right.
There is no plan or structure in place
for protecting gay persons in Nigeria from outright violation even by
the police and the state. Section 214 of the Criminal Code criminalises
“any person who has carnal knowledge of any person against the order of
nature”. Section 217 thereof frowns at “gross indecency”. Similarly,
Sections 284 and 405-408 of the Penal Code, and the Sharia Law in 12
states of the North make homosexuality a punishable felony. Public
hostility towards the LGBTQI is widespread. It is risky to reveal sexual
orientation in Nigeria. No political party or politician has formally
endorsed LGBTQI rights in Nigeria.
The Same Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act
2014, which is a particular source of anxiety and the target of protest
by the Nigerian and global LGBTQI community, establishes a legal basis
for formal discrimination on the grounds of sexuality. This law forbids
any form of gay marriage, or civil union (sections 1-3), the
registration of gay clubs, societies and organisations or the holding of
gay meetings (section 4(1)) and the display of amorous relationship
between two persons of the same sex in Nigeria (section 4(2). Anybody
who enters into a same sex marriage contract or runs a gay club or
association or group or is seen to be aiding and abetting homosexuality
is considered guilty of a felony. The punishment ranges from 10 to 14
years (section 5). Although the SSMPA deals with marriage or civil
union, it is a much stronger law than the Criminal and Penal Codes and
the Sharia on gay issues. It is a law fraught with ambiguities, which
devalue the gay person’s rights to privacy, dignity of the human person,
freedoms of expression and freedom from discrimination.
But it remains a popular law with the
majority of Nigerians who rely on culture and traditional values, public
morality as defined in Section 45 (1) of the 1999 Constitution, and the
fact that Nigeria being a sovereign nation should be free to make its
own laws and not subject itself to Western notions of sexuality.
Research findings accordingly indicate that more than 95 per cent of the
Nigerian population considers homosexuality a sin. Religion and culture
remain major barriers to human rights expression as seen in the case of
Christians quoting such anti-gay Scriptural passages as Leviticus
18:22, 20:23, the poor fortunes of the Child Rights Act in spite of its
ratification by 26 out of 36 states, constructive and continuing gender
discrimination, and the disgraceful politicking over the Gender Equality
and Prohibition of Violence Against Women Bill, 2016 which has now been
reduced pathetically, at second reading, to a bill on violence and
sexual abuse.
There are specific posers to be raised in
relation to the SSMPA 2014. One, culture to the extent of its dynamism
should evolve, and must not be erected into a given barrier to human
rights expression. Two, human rights and sovereignty should not be
antithetical. Three, who should determine what is right and wrong? Is
there an objective universal morality in a world of diverse beliefs and
practices? And is morality necessarily as determined by the majority?
Can the majority possibly be wrong in a democracy?
Where sexuality is concerned, the
insistence on basic rights can only be a continuous and inclusive
struggle. The debate can only continue to evolve as society itself
evolves. The irreducible minimum lies in the need by state and non-state
actors to continue to make efforts to dismantle barriers and extend the
frontiers of how human rights are respected, protected and fulfilled.
Gay persons in Nigeria are subjected to police brutality and assault,
targeted killings, hate crime, and sundry forms of discrimination. Their
relatives are stigmatised. The jungle justice that is imposed on the
community is outside the province of the law. Enforcing the law as it
is, until it is amended, revised, or repealed, should be within the
province of the rule of law, not the jungle. The right of all persons to
freedom, justice and equality should be considered sacrosanct. Any law,
which contradicts this principle, in its operation or expression, is to
the extent of its inconsistency, questionable.
The more memorable aspect of the 2016
symposium on Human Rights, Sexuality and the Law, attended by both gay
and non-gay persons, was the interactive session where further issues
were raised and interrogated. One fellow stood up and insisted that I
needed to apologise to the LGBTQI community for views I had expressed in
the past. My response was that when I defended the SSMPA publicly in
2014, I was doing my duty as the Official Presidential Spokesperson. In
that capacity, it was part of my responsibility to explain and promote
government policies and decisions. A spokesman’s loyalty is to country,
state, government and principal; he or she is essentially a Vuvuzela.
Besides, the SSMPA is not a law about my personal views but the values
and the choice of the majority of Nigerians. What people do with their
private lives is their business as free human beings without
interpreting freedom as absolute, however, but as a guarantee for the
equality of all persons.
Someone else wanted to know why President
Jonathan considered it expedient and urgent to sign a bill that was
first proposed in 2006 into law. The chronology is that the National
Assembly rejected the bill in 2007. It was passed by the Senate on Nov
29, 2011, by the House of Representatives on May 30, 2013 and signed
into law on January 13, 2014. If President Jonathan had withheld assent,
the National Assembly could have exercised its power of veto to
override. What is required, in all of this, to be honest, is not ex post
facto hand-wringing and blame games, but continued advocacy and
awareness building. Incidentally, the African Commission on Human and
Peoples’ Rights has called on the Nigerian Government to consider a
revision of the SSMPA given the manner in which it is being exploited to
violate fundamental human rights. A day may well come when this would
happen in line with the Yogyakarta Principles on sexual orientation and
gender identity, as has been experienced in Mozambique, Nepal and
Nicaragua.
A lady stood up and added: “Dr. Abati, it
is important that you realise you are in our space. This is a very
sensitive space and community. My husband is your very good friend, but I
still think you owe this community an apology because even when doing
your job as a government official, there are certain things you should
not say.” I thought I already answered that question. Another lady
intervened: “Hi, Dr. Abati, I am made to understand you don’t believe we
exist in Nigeria. Well, now you know we do. I am a citizen. I work in
this country. I pay my taxes. My name is Pamela. And I am a Lesbian.” I
have never said any such dumb thing as to insist that the LGBTQI
community does not exist either in Nigeria or elsewhere in Africa.
Having read Bernadine Evaristo and other writers on the subject, I have a
clear understanding.
I left the symposium with two special
gifts. The 2016 Human Rights Violations Report Based on Real or
Perceived Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity in Nigeria, a 61-page
publication by TIERS Nigeria which was formally presented at the
occasion and “Tell Me Where I Can Be Safe”: The Impact of Nigeria’s Same
Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act, a 108-page publication by Human Rights
Watch. Both publications provide detailed and up-to-date information
including statistics and the impact of the law with regard to the status
of the LGBTQI community in Nigeria, focusing mainly on human rights
violations on the grounds of sexual orientation and gender identity. I
recommend both publications for general reading and for the benefit of
those seeking answers on the subject under review.
Sitting by my side during the interactive
sessions was Olumide, the gifted and resourceful activist who runs
TIERSNigeria. We reviewed the comments as they flowed forth from the
participants in the room. What is clear is that there is a vibrant
LGBTQI community in Nigeria led by internationally exposed, media-savvy
and knowledgeable young men and women who are determined to insist on
their fundamental human rights and their right to be who they want to
be. They are aggrieved. They are organised. They have set up platforms
for self-expression including the use of technology, publications,
movies (re: Hell or High Water, November 2016), the media and other
social networking opportunities. Their voice is likely to grow louder as
they become more organised. For how much longer can they be ignored?
As the event drew to a close, the
microphone got to a young fellow who incoherent at first, still managed
to deliver his punch-line killer: “Please, I don’t understand what
people are saying. They are saying they are liberal, or that we need to
unlearn certain things. Liberal, about what? When you say you are
liberal, it is like you are patronising us. Can you talk about rice when
you have not even tasted it?” Yes, I think. One of the privileges of
intellection is the right to talk robustly and nineteen to the dozen
about rice, without ever tasting it.
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