This piece narrates Issa Otome’s traumatic experience of “conversion therapy”, shedding light on the mental health challenges endured by survivors. The article emphasizes the prevalence of such practices, especially among youth, and looks into the legal and emotional consequences.
The quiver in Issa Otome’s voice as they narrate their brutal and dehumanizing experience with so-called “conversion therapy” demonstrates the toll these practices have on an individual’s mental health and well-being. Otome, a 28-year-old religious “conversion therapy” survivor from Busia County, identifies as gay and uses they/them pronouns.
“Conversion therapy” includes harmful discredited practices that falsely claim to change someone’s sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression. Condemned by more than 60 associations of doctors, psychologists, and counsellors worldwide, it includes methods like psychotherapy, aversion therapy where individuals are subjected to electric shocks and paralysis-causing drugs, so-called “corrective rape”, prayer, and exorcism as a form of “healing”. A report by the American Psychiatric Association notes that individuals subjected to “conversion therapy” often experience depression, anxiety, and other self-destructive behavior as a consequence of these harmful practices.
Children as young as 12 have undergone “conversion therapy” attempts in Kenya according to findings published in the 2022 report by the Kenyan LGBTIQ+ coalition galck+. According to the report, the most affected are individuals between 17 and 25 years old. Otome, was 19 when they were subjected to “conversion therapy” nine years ago.
While some individuals seek out “conversion therapy”, most participate against their will. Healthcare providers, faith-based organizations, religious leaders, and traditional healers are the most common “conversion therapy” practitioners in Kenya, where the practice is often endorsed and facilitated by family, community members, and political authorities.
Otome was forced into “conversion therapy” after disclosing their sexual identity to their family and was subjected to inhumane treatment administered by local sheikhs in Busia County.
“I am from a family where we are both Christian and Muslim. I was taken to the sheikh where they squeezed my fingers between two pieces of wood, applying pressure while instructing me to utter the phrase ‘sema haya majini yatoke’ which translates to command the demons to leave my body. They also placed a pot with hot charcoal on my head, instructing me to repeat the same words,” Otome recalls. “Every Friday, just before prayers around 10:00, I was taken to the sheikhs and was forced to crawl on sand and pebbles, leaving my knees raw and scraped. One of my fingers remains permanently crooked due to the pressure from the wood. Emotionally, the memories of the incidents torment me.”
Given Otome’s multifaith background, they were also subjected to “conversion therapy” by the congregation at their local Anglican church.
“At that time, I served as a youth leader and a church choir member. I was publicly humiliated in church. I was paraded, stripped of my position, and was eventually banned from attending church service,” Otome said. “One Sunday, the sermon was all about me with the youth pastor claiming I am a criminal who should not sit among other people. The situation was no better when we later joined the main congregation.”
Reverend Tom Otieno, a priest at the All Saints Cathedral diocese, emphasizes the church’s stance on the LGBTIQ+. While the church does not endorse the LGBTIQ+ community, it discourages humiliating people.
“Church service is open to LGBTIQ+ individuals, but serving in official capacities is not permitted. If an individual chooses to disclose their identity, the church advocates for a dignified process in relieving them of their duties. It is important to treat everyone with respect. However, the approach to these situations varies among different priests within the church.”
In some cases, LGBTIQ+ individuals are coerced into marriage or compelled to participate in heterosexual sexual activities under the belief that it will “cure” them. Otome experienced this when the church arranged for them to live with a female companion, seemingly disregarding the emotions of both people.
“I was given a lady and was told she would be my future wife. She stayed with me for a week. During her stay, I was not paraded on Sunday. However, after the sermon, I was summoned by the council of pastors, a group of six ministers. During the meeting, they preached about Sodom and Gomorrah and went as far as taking my phone away, claiming it was misguiding me.” Otome recalled.
According to Brenda Sharp, a psychologist practising in Kenya, such actions can expose individuals to more stigma.
“Not responding sexually to an arranged partner exposes individuals to more stigma through community discussions. This may also lead to substance abuse as individuals turn to drugs and alcohol to cope with their reality, ” she said.
Otome was eventually evicted from their family home and moved to Mombasa, where they began their healing journey and found a family in the community at PEMA Kenya. This local organization advocates for the human rights of gender and sexual minorities. Otome now serves as PEMA Kenya’s head of paralegals. Sharp notes that finding a supportive community is one of the most effective coping mechanisms for patients who survive “conversion therapy”.
“These practices are traumatic, leaving individuals wounded and struggling with their identity. It also breeds mistrust, making it difficult for them to lean on others for support,” Sharp said. “Once connected to a community, improvement is evident as they now have a sense of belonging.”
Sharp notes and Otome confirms that “conversion” practices, whether physical or psychological, can also affect one’s religious beliefs.
“I no longer attend church or the mosque but still believe in God,” Otome said. “I’ve distanced myself from Christianity and Islam, choosing private prayer instead.”
Lawyer Masafu Okwara argues that violations of the rights to life, equality, and freedom from discrimination, as outlined in Chapter Four of Kenya’s 2010 Constitution, are often apparent in “conversion therapy” cases like Otome’s.
“Conversion therapy” inflicts both physical and emotional torture on victims. In doing so, perpetrators violate fundamental unlimited human rights and the security of person,” Masafu notes.
Prosecution in such cases is difficult owing to the discreet manner in which the acts are administered. This deprives members of the LGBTIQ+ community of their constitutional rights, creating a conducive environment for human rights violations. Masafu encourages people who experience conversion therapy to report the perpetrators. She urges seeking legal recourse through the National Gay & Lesbian Human Rights Commission’s public legal aid clinic and the National legal aid service in the office of the Attorney General.
Legal victories in “conversion therapy” cases are bittersweet moments for Masafu, who is saddened by survivors’ lasting scars. She advocates for awareness of ‘conversion therapy’ and encourages survivors to seek psychological support through organizations like galck+, NGLHRC, Ishtar MSM, and PEMA Kenya.
PEMA Kenya has implemented several programs and workshops to encourage acceptance and understanding of sexual and gender minorities in Mombasa. They engage their friends and relatives in conversations that aim to broaden their understanding of the LGBTIQ+ community beyond sexual acts. While some individuals embrace lessons from the program and recognize the harm they may cause, others remain unwilling to engage with or accept the LGBTIQ+ community. After participating in one of these workshops, Otome’s mother eventually embraced and accepted them. Sadly, Otome still experiences stigma when they visit home as the rest of the family has not changed their views but remains hopeful they will eventually have a change of heart and prioritize protecting everyone’s human rights.
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