When Anold Mulaisho first arrived at Johannesburg’s Park Station, he had little idea what his future would hold: ‘I had no plan. I hardly had any money. Not even a place to stay.’

Anold tells me his story while we wander the streets of Braamfontein, slowly making our way back to my office at Wits University.

‘That must have been very frightening,’ I say, acutely aware of the inadequacy of my words.

‘It really was,’ he replies, ‘but it was still better than staying in Zambia.’ Anticipating my next question, Anold inhales deeply and starts to describe a lifetime of homophobic abuse. I hear about schoolyard bullying, street harassment, multiple acts of violence and relentless pressure to be ‘normal’. His voice is gentle and measured, but his sentences are punctuated by long pauses. There is no mistaking the emotional scars he is carrying.

‘I was kicked out of home when I was still a teenager,’ he explains. ‘My family was very angry with me for being gay. There were even times when they told me to kill myself. Once my sister said I should pay for my funeral in advance because the family shouldn’t have to waste money on burying a gay son.’

Taken in by the mother of a close friend, Anold managed to find part-time work and save enough for his school fees. Later, after graduation, he rented a place of his own and embarked on a long-term relationship. For a while it seemed that things would be okay.

‘Then a friend with government connections tipped me off to an investigation. Somehow I had come to the attention of the authorities and now they were out to get me. It was time to leave.’

With few options available, Anold used his savings to buy a bus ticket for Johannesburg.

‘I knew about the law in South Africa, that it is legal to be gay, and so coming here seemed like the best option. All I wanted was to be myself and to be happy. I was no longer free back home.’

Having worked with lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) migrants, refugees and asylum seekers for many years, I am unsurprised by the details of Anold’s life; his experiences are disturbingly similar to most of the people I encounter professionally.