We are helping her
London – 17 April 2025
I am Veronica from Uganda, and this is my story. Since I was 12 years old, I have carried a secret I never thought I could share: I am attracted to women. Growing up in Uganda, where being part of the LGBT community is not just shunned but criminalised, I lived in constant fear of being discovered. I learned to suppress my true self, hiding behind a mask to live in a repressive society like Uganda, where traditions, law and society are all against you.
The fear of being exposed ruled my life. I carefully chose the people I called friends. Even then, I lived in a constant state of anxiety, knowing that anyone could betray me to the authorities. It was a lonely existence, and no matter how much I longed to share my true self, I could not. I was so afraid of what would happen if the wrong person found out. People before had their photos in the homophobic press, and this invited vigilante attacks; some even had to escape from their towns because they would have been beaten up if not killed.
School, which should have been a place of safety, was another source of fear. When I was 17 years, I befriended another girl in the same school as me. We spent a lot of time together, and we became closer day by day. It all felt all natural to me and I just wanted to be with her, spending my time with her and being near to her brought me joy and peace. She shared the same feelings as I did, and we both knew it was very dangerous. One day, a teacher caught me in the dormitory with her. While we were not in any embarrassing situation, we came dangerously close of being exposed. I had to make up an excuse to protect myself, praying the teacher would not report me to the authorities. That day stayed with me, and I never again went to her dormitory again.
Even though I tried my best to stay hidden, life was not kind to me. Word got around that I was found with another girl in the dormitory, and I could feel some people avoiding me. But this was nothing yet as to what was to happen. One of the most devastating moments of my life happened when I was raped by men who believed they had the right to “correct” me. They wanted to turn me straight. I did nothing wrong, and yet I was attacked in the most vicious way. The trauma they inflicted left a scar on my soul that I will carry forever. I had nowhere to go, and no one could understand what I was going through. Some people even said that I deserved it because I showed no interest in men. It is still very hard for me to remember this event, and it took me a lot of courage to share it with you.
For years, I lived a life of secrecy. I could not openly love or be loved, and the constant hiding took a toll on my mental health. I was always stressed and depressed, feeling ashamed of who I was because my country, my culture, and even my family saw it as shameful. I did not think I would ever live a free and happy life. I increasingly feared for my life, and I eventually fled to the UK.
I did not know if I would make the UK my new home, and I was full of apprehensions about what would come next. Applying for asylum was very stressful, and at many times, I did not know where to go or who to turn to. Fortunately, I found support from charities and the LGBT+ community. During the process, it was very stressful as I was not sure if I would be allowed to stay in the UK. Being deported back to Uganda would have meant I would be attacked, harmed and even killed. These thoughts prevented me from sleeping some nights, and every day I thought, it would be my last day of freedom.
Nevertheless, being involved with the LGBT community, opened an entire new world to me. For the first time, I felt truly accepted for whom I am. I was loved, welcomed, and listened to without judgment. The kindness and warmth I experienced were overwhelming. Fr the first time, I could breathe freely.
Towards the end of 2024, I received an email from the Home Office. I was unsure of the content. I took some time to read the email. My life depended on what was written inside, and I could not bring myself open to it. It was as if time itself had stopped. Suddenly, the thought of being deported stuck in my mind. How will I survive in hostile Uganda? It took me some time, and I finally opened the email. I must have read the email several times, and the message on it was the same: I could stay in the UK. I was granted refugee status, but I could not believe it. I was still shocked and decided to phone my best friend to share the good news. I showed her the email on WhatsApp to ensure I was not misreading it. Only then could I really feel the joy exploding. Finally, I was saved. I could remain in the UK. I no longer have to live in fear. I was happy and grateful that my life was saved, and I could now have a new life.
For the first time in my life, I can say I am happy, and I am hopeful for the future. I am not sure I would have succeeded without the support and guidance of the charities I contacted. Words cannot capture how much it means to me to finally live without hiding, without shame, and without fear. Thank you for saving me.