Transgenders
TpHE world is far from linear, it is by far filled with peculiar, bizarre and extraordinary people and in the world of the LGBTQI community, this is inevitably the case.
To be different can prove to be a daunting experience as many question whether they would ever be fully accepted for who they are.
During a panel discussion about the experiences of transgender and non-binary activists in relation to violence and intersectionality, no one experience was the same, each had its own form and set of challenges.
Life for Ratu Eroni Ledua Dina who goes by Rhonda has not been easy and everyday has proven to be a struggle.
For about 16 years Rhonda has avoided catching public transportation, such is the reality no matter the cost of catching a taxi every day.
“When I was at university not too long ago catching the bus was traumatic for me because every single person would say what the hell this is,” Rhonda said.
“Everybody was looking at me like I was a whore, but that’s not my story. I was trying to survive, but people were projecting these narratives.”
The fear lingers in Rhonda’s mind hearing stories of transgender individuals killed behind buildings, lured somewhere private where no one can hear their cries of plea.
“Every time I go to town, I get out before the sun goes down.
“Now I’m a proud ‘house mother’ because I look younger transgenders and I don’t want them to go through what I’ve been through.
“I opened up my home to so many young trans to show the love that they’re missing because that’s what I wanted when I was growing up.”
Rhonda said most of the time materialising their trauma was toxic and a lot of members of the LGBTQI community were stubborn and hot headed because there was a perception that nobody wanted them around.
“So I better fight my space, fight for occupying the space, I have to keep fighting to prove myself and that’s what it feels like.
“But there are better ways to do things. We realised that we were supposed to love each other more and enabling each other in the spaces that we occupy.”
Lasarusa Seru is another such person better known as Lady Kirah. Kirah said growing up in a church oriented family has borne fruit in the level of confidence gained.
Kirah was also thankful to never be discriminated by family and attributes personal growth and confidence to environments as such.
“So I think the discipline of going to church, the traditional and the cultural aspect that was bestowed in me when I was young is still carrying me through.
“I used to go to this community church in Nasese and the church minister was pro LGBTQI and he was a close friend.
“So I took on as the choir director for our youth choir and I also used to wear a dress to church very confidently.”
When the mic was passed on to Steven Chute, he shared that being born into an open minded family that were willing to discuss these things created great comfort.
“I have three older sisters and my mom kind of figured it out before I even hit high school because she would buy me softer shaded colours of bags and other stuffs,” Steven said.
“However, the trauma that I faced in an all-boys school, it’s not as easy as a lot of people may think and the worst thing raised is the moment it’s known that you were a member of that school your whole experience is automatically sexualised.
“You’re automatically a whore, a slut because you are automatically the person that all the boys went to relieve themselves of their sexual urges even though you did not participate in any of those things you don’t have a choice, but to wear that burden.
“Even if you argue about it they will just call you a liar.”
Steven says that creating a space of love and support can help members of the LGBTQI community by creating a sort of mental stability.
“We could get them off the streets and we could get them into good roles.”
As the room quietened, an emotional Benjamin Patel, fondly known to peers as Benji, paused and shared how race and body count were issues that had to be tackled.
“I think growing up being that I was a Fijian of Indian descent but I also had maternal links that was indigenous and then also being more feminine was something outside societal norms,” Benji said.
“Then of course being plus sized does not help and I’m also a person living with a disability then going through life being told that I was not good enough.
“When you’re not able to belong to these factions or intersectionality’s that make you who you are, it really has a toll on you and adds to the trauma.”
Being involved in dance, singing, events management and participating in cultural activities has become a space for true expression for Benji.
“So I’m always fighting for the arts and culture component because I feel a lot of people use culture as a barrier.”
Rhonda, Steven and Benji say they want to exist just like ordinary people, have jobs, be productive and to walk down streets without constantly fearing their safety.