Based on a life story interview with Dhalie (21 September 2019)

I’m Dhalie and I’m gender-fluid. In Uganda they call us basiyazi. It’s just the harassment we go through. I feel like I identify as a man and when the time comes, I will go through transition, like hormone therapy. Seriously, me, I don’t like my boobs.

I wish I could have come here, to Kenya, like for a vacation or something. That would have made a difference. But I came to Kenya, because I thought it was the nearest place where I would be safe from what happened back home and where I could afford the transport. So that’s why I came. I boarded matatu buses and I was like, ‘Let me just go where no one knows me: maybe there I can be myself.’ At least, if someone doesn’t know me, they won’t talk about me, or pre-think about me in their mind. I thought, maybe I will be safe and they will just see me as me, as Dhalie, who identifies as a man; not like those guys who saw me as a young girl. I left my country because I didn’t want to be tied up. My sexuality had never stopped me from going to school, or from doing what I am supposed to do.

When I was growing up, I was a girl. When I was in secondary school, around when I was 13 years, that’s when I would like to play outdoor games: volleyball, soccer, and I love volleyball! When I was around 16, I met this girl at school, and we became friends. We would write each other letters. We would share our lunch and eat from the same plate. Then, we would share our beds, you know. At school they wouldn’t let us share our beds; it was prohibited. But we would find ourselves sharing the bed. I didn’t know anything yet about sexuality. It wasn’t even in my vocabulary at all! The time they expelled us, we were actually sleeping in the same bed, but doing nothing. At least at that time we had never kissed. There was nothing like any sexual contact. But by then the student leaders were watching us.