Interview with Masafu Okwara: Kenyan Human Rights Lawyer and Innovative Lawyers Awards Winner
Masafu Okwara is a lawyer at the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission (NGLHRC) and a recipient of REDRESS’s Innovative Lawyers Awards. She spoke with REDRESS about confronting discrimination and violence against LGBTIQ+ people in Kenya. Through NGLHRC’s Legal Aid Clinic, she provides free legal representation to LGBTIQ+ people and also coordinates community legal education to build the agency of LGBTIQ+ persons to seek access to justice for human rights violations.
Why did you become a human rights lawyer?
The circumstances I had to go through as a young queer Kenyan brought me towards the path of law as a necessity because, at that point, it felt as the only power to right the wrongs and injustices I went through. It was out of necessity and the need for a safer home for other people like me.
What does it mean to be a human rights lawyer in Kenya?
Being a human rights lawyer in Kenya goes beyond the textbook definition of a lawyer. Being a human rights lawyer in Kenya also means being an activist, because defending against injustices of human rights violations is deeply personal. As a human rights lawyer, I have to ensure that justice isn’t a commodity only available to the wealthy. It also means building trust and creating a safe space where LGBTIQ+ clients feel comfortable sharing stories, knowing there will be a guarantee of empathy and respect, not judgment. This is particularly vital given the historical mistreatment and prejudice LGBTIQ+ people have faced within legal systems.
It also comes with its joys and brings a lot of fulfilment. I go to bed at the end of the day knowing that I was able to get a queer person out of harm’s way, or ensuring that a queer person was safe, that I contributed to the creating a safer home for queer people.
The other challenge is that we are overstretched. The Legal Aid Centre provides pro bono legal aid services to a lot of LGBTQ+ Kenyans across the country. As a human rights lawyer, you have to go over and beyond to make sure that all our queer siblings across the country receive the legal care they need to the best extent possible.
[An additional challenge] is the secondary trauma that comes with this work. As a queer human rights lawyer with lived experiences, you get to address cases of LGBTQ+ Kenyans who are younger than you, and you get to see yourself on the other side of the desk. Any of the injustices experienced by your queer siblings could easily [have happened to] any of us because of the context that LGBTIQ+ persons exist
Additionally, mass community legal education is central to my work as a human rights lawyer: to build the agency of my queer siblings, to seek redress for human rights violations. Ensuring that even as I redress cases and challenge structural norms that bar effective access to justice for all, our experiences in the legal systems are used to ensure better experiences for those who come after us.
This work comes with a lot of personal risk. You learn to live with being overly cautious around your environment, making sure that I am not using the same route to work every day, or do not use a common route from a police station or an evacuation site.
But I have also lost fear. I have lost fear because it’s very important that we exist as Kenyans and that we do not allow the fear that has been created on us extinguish us as queer Kenyans. It’s to exist without fear, knowing that those who came before us cleared the path for us to exist and to enjoy certain rights as queer Kenyans in this country.
Who are the principal perpetrators of torture in Kenya?
The principal perpetrators of torture in Kenya are State actors. We are talking about the police. Those who inflict torture, those who oversee it, and those who engineer it are often members of the police in Kenya. The police are charged with the mandate and paid with the taxpayers’ money to ensure safety. That’s number one. Number two would be family. Particularly, family members who subject queer, LGBTQ+ Kenyans through the so-called “conversion” practice. Number three would be the public in instances like cases of mob violence.
[Number four is] State-sponsored or religiously motivated torture and violence. This is both online and offline, particularly during the election period. An example is the scapegoating of LGBTQ+ persons to gain political mileage or as ammunition against political opponents. This encourages hate speech, which fuels how violence is perpetrated against LGBTQ+ persons.
Let me give a live example: a member of Parliament said last year that all LGBTQ+ residents of Mombasa should be beheaded or should be stoned. A statement like this coming from a political person who commands a large audience is quickly translated into ‘a go ahead’, subject queer persons to physical violence without any consequence. So you are seeing, recording and responding to cases of mob violence, multiple robbery violence, stoning and all this culminated into multiple instances which amount to torture.
Could you describe an initiative that you have worked on that has contributed to advancing the global movement against torture?
I would say the everyday work that we do at the Legal Aid Centre. This is the first public legal aid clinic [in Kenya] that is specific for sexual and gender minorities. It was opened ten years ago by the founders of the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission. For the past six years, I have sat in this legal aid clinic providing free legal aid services, meaning that I have consolidated a lot of data on torture and violence.
Through these cases, we have successfully pushed the [United Nations] Committee against Torture to pass and adopt a resolution prohibiting torture against LGBTQ+ residents of Kenya. And every single day, each case that we redress helps shift the norms within the system.
I find it very difficult to take credit for this work because it is done collaboratively with a group of incredible queer human rights lawyers at the Commission. But we have collectively done brave work to change the laws in this country and to create a safer home. We have built a sense of agency among LGBTIQ+ persons to come out and seek redress for instances of torture and violence. There’s no longer apathy.
There is a case I once received that has stayed in my mind for a very long time. An 18-year-old masculine-presenting lesbian in Nakuru was hacked by a machete on the head when they were coming out of a club at night. They couldn’t go to a hospital or a police station because of the fear of victimisation. So, they had to self-medicate at home for a very long time because of fear of victimisation, stigma and discrimination.
We eventually got justice for them. We tracked down the perpetrators, they got arrested, and they’re currently serving a sentence. As we speak, they’re about 25 years old now, and they’re doing quite well. But even through the arrest process, it was very difficult for them and us because the police were unwilling to undertake investigations, and it took a lot of pressure to eventually get the perpetrators arrested.
How do you see the work of anti-torture lawyers such as yourself developing in Kenya in the near future?
The next step would be to fully implement explicit legislation against torture, but more specifically, have legislation that makes hate crime an offence, that it’s a hate crime to torture Kenyans on account of sexual orientation or gender identity.
For example, it took the codification of the sexual offences act into law in Kenya for there to be meaningful deterrence on cases of sexual violence that were haemorrhaging at an alarming rate back in 2006.
In the near future, I see a scenario where our legal system is developed sufficiently to produce progressive jurisprudence that criminalises hate crimes, particularly those involving torture. There is very little spotlight on torture against LGBTQ+ individuals. So, I see a scenario where our legal system will be able to explicitly, for instance, ban conversion practices and hate crimes that arise out of hate based on sexual orientation and gender identity
What motivates you to carry on doing the work that you do?
Queer joy. I would say queer joy motivates me to do the work that I do. It’s very personal to me that I get to exist in a world that is happy, where my wife, the love of my life, and I don’t have to constantly look over our shoulders every day. The imagination of a happy home, right here in Kenya, is my motivation.
The system has to change in our lifetime. I see a lot of hope in the system changing. I see marriage equality, even if it’s in the long haul. I see a repeal of the criminalisation of homosexuality in the country. I see Kenya eventually becoming a safer home for LGBTQ+ Kenyans. Whether or not we live to see it. But it has to happen.
That is because of the incredible work of queer human rights lawyers who have come before us, the likes of Jerry Gatheru, the likes of Guru Gaido. Those who have put in the work so we could walk. And now, we have to walk so that those who come after us can fly.
I know that no matter the amount of anti-queer hate mobilisation that we are currently seeing, no matter how many anti-homosexuality laws they bring before our African parliaments, I know that at some point, all of that has to die.
There’s a lot of hope. I have lived through the generations where you could not even come out, let alone wear a rainbow bracelet, let alone organise in our own name. Seeing the current generation living their truth and existing in queer joy without having to worry, especially with the Supreme Court ruling recently [allowing the registration of the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission with the words ‘gay’ and ‘lesbian’ in its title]. I think these are incredible milestones that give me a lot of hope.
Could you tell us about your proudest moment in this field so far?
Every day you get to handle so many cases, and you don’t stop to look back on the hugs that you get, the thank yous, the testimonials from clients saying I never imagined that I would get out of a certain situation.
The other proud moment has been the Sheila Lumumba case. This was a case of torture, where a 25-year-old gender non-conforming lesbian was found murdered in their house. We recently got a 30-year prison sentence for the perpetrator. It was a proud moment knowing that we defended against injustice.
And just seeing the Supreme Court rule in our favour as an institution, and saying that we can register as an NGO with the word ‘lesbian’ in our name, was a very proud moment. It was the culmination of work by incredible human rights lawyers. It was like completing a marathon. The everyday effort we put in came into fruition, and it was really beautiful. Those are the things that make me go to bed happy.
About the Awards
REDRESS’s Innovative Lawyers Awards aim to recognise the vital work of new and emerging anti-torture champions, expose them to a broader peer support network, provide financial support to pursue public interest litigation and to inspire other lawyers and practitioners. This support is made available through the United Against Torture Consortium, which is funded by the European Union.