First-class, Fatherhood, and the Fearful Hope of a Hidden Community: My 2025

When I stood among the thousands at UK Black Pride in London this summer, I was struck by what I can only describe as a “living, breathing protest”. For me, a Ugandan, seeing strangers dance together in the open wasn’t just a party; it was a glimpse of a world that, back home, is not only rare but illegal.

As I celebrate my birthday and a year of immense personal triumph, I also reflect on a community in Uganda that was reaching out to me from the shadows, terrified and searching for answers I didn’t always have.

The View from the Dean’s List

2025 has been a year of “firsts”. I graduated with a first-class Master’s in Digital Marketing, earning a spot on the Dean’s List, a distinction shared by only one other student in my faculty. Soon after, I secured a new job that finally provides the stability to support my family and, more importantly, fuel the engine of UmojaPride.

But as I climbed these academic and professional ladders, my digital life was tethered to a much harsher reality. In the first quarter of 2025, I officially launched www.umojapride.com as a sanctuary for queer Ugandans. I wanted it to be a place of inspiration, but I quickly learned it was becoming something much more urgent, a lifeline.

Scared, Hopeful, and Trapped

Through the site, I connected with 15 new individuals living in Uganda. Our conversations were a delicate dance between hope and sheer terror. Many reached out thinking I could provide “emergency extractions”, a way to physically pull them out of the country.

When I had to explain that we aren’t an extraction agency, and that we neither have the power nor the resources to fly them to safety, the silence on the other end of the line was deafening. It showed me a group of people so desperate for an exit that any light looks like a door. It was a brutal reminder that while I am a member of the UK-based African Equality Foundation, fighting from a distance, the people on the ground are fighting just to breathe.

Solidarity Beyond Borders

Realising the limits of what one man and one website can do, I decided this year to put my resources where they could do the most good. I started donating monthly to Outright International, whose global advocacy keeps the eyes of the UN and the world on countries like mine.

I also began supporting Women for Refugee Women here in the UK. Their “Rainbow Sisters” group is a vital safe space for LGBTQ+ women and non-binary people who have managed to escape but are still navigating the gruelling asylum process. It is my way of ensuring that even if I cannot extract people myself, I am supporting the organisations that catch them when they fall.

A Better World for them

The true “North Star” of my year, however, arrived in the form of my new baby girl.

I realised that my activism is no longer just about my peers; it’s about my children’s legacy. I am trying to build a world where they can grow up to be whoever they want to be, without the “misery and loneliness” that defines life for so many LGBTQ+ people in Uganda. I want them to know that their father didn’t just accept the world as it was; he fought to change it, one baby step at a time.

The Road Ahead

As 2025 closes, I am under no illusions. The group I serve is scared, and the dangers are real every day. But with every story shared, every donation made, and every connection forged, we are pushing back against the darkness. Pride is a protest in the shape of a party, and though we aren’t ready to party in Kampala just yet, we are taking those baby steps, and we are doing it together.

We may not eat now, but later, we shall definitely eat. Because we are cooking.