How did people treat you as a LGBTI person? I can absorb this pain, but I don’t want it for other people. I’d had lots of bad experience because of my orientation, but I wanted to do something for my future generations. It was not established then – it was a circle, we met and worked together. How was Dhaka?Īfter one year I was related with organization Roopbaan. Sometimes I go to church, sometimes to temples. I thought the capital would be more liberal.
I realized if I stayed at home, I would maybe become mentally disordered, because I didn’t have support. ‘If you are like that, you can’t enter this mosque.’ By that time I’d finished my secondary school diploma. Then, even the monks in my prayer hall refused me. After that, they realized I can’t change. This time they took me to a psychiatrist, and into an asylum and rehab for three months. She told me: ‘It’s not a problem – maybe it’s your age.’ After that, when I realized I was positive about it, I strongly shared it with my family. This I shared with my mom, as I was friendly with her. I knew my orientation was different at the age of 12.
Here, Rakib shares his heartbreaking but inspiring story in full – from coming out to his mother at 12, to being raped and abused by police in Dhaka at 19, to sleeping on the office floor of Nepal’s only LGBTI organization The Blue Diamond Society at 23… How did you come to decide to come out to your parents? In the meantime, he has to make it work in Nepal. ‘They are too kind to me, but it is taking a long time,’ he says. He has applied for resettlement in Canada with the help of the Rainbow Railroad. ‘It’s not as safe as Western countries, but it’s safe compared to Bangladesh, India and Pakistan,’ explains Rakib. In Bangladesh, it is illegal and punishable by up to 10 years in prison. My interview with Rakib is a fitting end to a fascinating stay in Nepal – a scenically beautiful country where same-sex sex has been legal since 2007.
In the past I had lots of bad experience, but the LGBTI is a sensitive community in the world. ‘I have already exposed myself as a gay activist,’ he says. Rakib’s now been living as a refugee in Nepal, recognized by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), for over a year.Īlthough he’s scared of getting caught, Rakib wants to be named and pictured in this article. These threats led to the murders of two members of the group: Xulhaz Mannan, editor of Bangladesh’s first queer magazine, and his friend Tanay Mojumdar, exactly one year ago. However, he fled Dhaka after Muslim extremists threatened to kill him and his friends. There, he helped found Roopbaan, the LGBTI youth organization. Rejected by his parents, Rakib left home at 19 for Dhaka, the Bangladeshi capital. He continues: ‘My brother once told me “Whether you’re gay or not you’re still my brother.” I believe my parents are stopping him having contact with me.’ We don’t accept a gay son in our family.”‘ I call them, but they tell me: “If you will be a straight son, you can come back. ‘I miss my family so much,’ he tells me in very good English, which he taught himself. ‘My home district is Patuakhali my parents and my younger brother are still there. He can’t find work, is low on funds and feels terribly homesick. Over a triple decker sandwich and iced coffee, the handsome 23-year-old tells me his story – beginning with right here, right now. It’s a scorching hot morning in Kathmandu, Nepal, and we’re sitting in the pretty courtyard of my hotel, where I offer to buy him lunch. Mahamood Rakibul Hasan (or simply ‘Rakib’) hasn’t eaten a decent meal in days.