If they aren’t being evicted by landlords citing erosion of family values in their premises, they’re being trailed by strangers curious about their bodies, or are being disowned by their families. This is the cost of visibility for queer activists.
“I was evicted eight times in one year. I stopped going online because of the abuse. These days, I’m afraid to even leave my house,” says N, a transgender activist based in Western Kenya.
Once a visible and vocal figure in the fight for queer rights, N now moves cautiously—if at all. They avoid public places.
Their social media accounts lie dormant. They speak in low tones. Fear has become a routine part of life.
A new national survey by Defenders Coalition lays bare the harsh reality faced by Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity, Gender Expression and Sex Characteristics (SOGIESC) human rights activists—whose work, once full of hope and energy, has been overshadowed by threats, violence and systemic neglect.
The report reveals that for queer activists, advocacy is no longer just about changing hearts and minds; it is now a constant negotiation with safety, shelter and sanity.
During the Covid-19 pandemic, N was arbitrarily arrested while trying to assist other LGBTIQ+ individuals in crisis.
“The violations increased when I started receiving gender-affirming care,” they recall. “Even in areas where not many people know me, I’m scared to be seen.”
The survey, titled 'The situation of SOGIESC human rights defenders in Kenya', highlights a disturbing trend: over the past three years, 70 per cent of respondents said they had been evicted due to their identity or activism.
“Violations against LGBTIQ+ HRDs are perpetrated by a wide range of actors,” it states. “This reflects deeply rooted norms in Kenyan society that are inherently homophobic and transphobic.”
Some 71 per cent had received threats or faced intimidation. Nearly half had been physically assaulted. And 29 per cent said they were subjected to “conversion practices”— efforts to force them to change their identity, often through coercion or abuse.
“LGBTIQ+ HRDs are at greater risk than the general LGBTIQ+ population,” the report notes.
“Their visibility and frequent interaction with perpetrators of violations expose them more acutely.”
Online spaces, once safe havens for connection and advocacy, have also turned hostile. Many defenders reported severe technology-facilitated harassment—including cyberbullying, online threats and the non-consensual publication of private information.
Several have been
doxxed (disclosing someone's private information online without their consent,
often to shame, harass, or intimidate them) or stalked. Others simply stopped
posting altogether, retreating from platforms that once amplified their voices.
This widespread hostility, the report argues, is symptomatic of deeper cultural and institutional biases.
The consequences run deep. Beyond the physical harm, defenders are dealing with trauma, burnout and extreme isolation.
Many have lost sources of income or been pushed into hiding. Legal protections remain sparse. Emergency resources are limited. For some, there’s no safe place to go.
The report notes there are no comprehensive protections in place. It calls for immediate and wide-ranging mitigation strategies—including stronger legal frameworks, psychosocial support and more robust public education efforts.
“It is necessary for mitigation efforts to be equally wide-ranging,” the report recommends, “offering protection for HRDs in different areas of their work and personal lives.”
The findings also emphasise the importance of intersectional collaboration—suggesting that queer rights defenders have much in common with HRDs in other marginalised sectors and that solidarity can offer strength where systems have failed.
