It was the crack of dawn, when the Divine cradles
our dreams one last time before entrusting them to the day. Birds were chirping,
and the first clatters of a food vendor echoed down the narrow street.
Kris broke an egg over the plantain he was frying up for
breakfast, his thoughts already racing ahead to his morning roster of patients.
He had studied medicine in Russia
and done research in the US
before returning to his home in western Africa.
Like his father and brother before him, he was now a doctor and felt proud to
be making his own contribution.
All of a sudden a chorus of violent knocks snapped him out
of his reverie. Who could that be at such an early hour? Kris peeped out a window
to see a woman’s feet in sandals flanked on either side by a pair of army
boots. Somewhat apprehensive, and still puzzled, he gingerly opened the front
door. In that split second, his life would change.
Two policemen barged in, threw him to the ground, and
handcuffed him, while the woman screamed hysterically that he was an evil spirit
poisoning her son. Kris’s heart sank as he realized in a flash what this was
all about. The woman’s s son was his lover, still asleep in the bedroom where
Kris had left him only a few minutes earlier. Dragged to his feet, Kris was
pushed out the door, past gawking neighbours, and thrown into the paddy
wagon—his dignity and his life in tatters.
The standard punishment for the “crime” of homosexuality in
his country is a five-year prison sentence, which many do not survive. His
partner would be spared that fate by the top military brass in his family, but
Kris had no such protection. His only option was to flee.
Shortly after his arrest he contracted malaria in prison and
was sent to a hospital. It was there late one night that a cousin helped him sneak
past a dozing security guard and smuggled him to a neighbouring city. A few
days later, he was on a plane headed for Canada.
In Montreal,
Kris wound up in a homeless shelter, struggling to adapt to a new culture and
figure out his next steps. A deeply spiritual man, he knew he needed a
community of faith. Providence
led him to the steps of St. James United Church. There he connected with
Montreal City Mission where he obtained housing and legal counsel for his
refugee claim, and became a volunteer.
One day he was asked by a church member to help the Believe
Group organize for the annual AIDS march. Because Believe is a group for LGBTQ
support (lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender, queer) he thought it must be a
clandestine activity. He could barely contain his surprise and delight when the
pastor and the entire congregation gathered on the church square one Sunday
morning, singing songs to encourage the marchers and distributing “free hugs.”
Kris had found a home.
Kris’s refugee claim was accepted, and he became a permanent
resident in October 2013. Today he is working around the clock to raise money
for a plane ticket to Russia
to retrieve his medical diploma. Despite a hectic schedule, he also finds time
to continue his volunteer work and raise awareness on the plight of the
international LGBTQ community.
“I was lucky to have the money to run fast and far,” he
says. “Most in my situation can only hope to get to a neighbouring country and
assume a new identity.... Many commit suicide.”
Kris cradles two dreams in his heart—to become a doctor in Canada and to
improve conditions for oppressed sexual minorities. “The United Church
has come a long, long way,” he says. “We need to look around us now and extend
the hand of solidarity to our brothers and sisters who are still living in fear
and in mortal danger.”
Rev. Paula Kline
Mandate Magazine, February 2014
