I am writing this because I have no other way of expressing my pain and because I hope to find some help somewhere, because I am trapped in my own life, condemned to live a lie forever and always fear that I could be discovered and killed. This is the sad truth of living in a homophobic state, promoting an intolerant society.
I am writing this from a friend’s computer, because I cannot afford one of my own and he doesn’t even know about it. The situation is so grim that he could get into trouble just for taking my side and protecting my identity. Which is why I decided not to share my story to anyone I know.
It was around the age of 19 when I met Harrad and it was love at first sight. He was so beautiful and decent, so friendly, pleasant and utterly sexy that I have instantly fallen for him.
I think that was the first time when I almost did not care about what the law said. I have never believed in God as ardent as others from my family did and still do. I was always doubtful whether it exists or not, but as the time passed, I figured that it does not even matter; what matters is what people believe. Which is why I decided that my passion for Harrad must remain a secret if I were to keep myself safe.
But then, as the time passed, I knew it would be increasingly hard to hide my feelings. I thought it would be impossible for me to keep them away from others’ eyes.
Then one day, while praying in the Mosque, I raised my eyes, when we were all leaving, and noticed Harrad looking at me. That was not what captured my attention, but the fact that he immediately turned his head away as soon as he saw me observing him. That got me thinking.
For the next few days I struggled with myself trying to figure out what was happening with him. We were pretty close friends, but despite that I just could not read him. He was like a stone. Then I decided that I had to know what was going on and I invited him to my place for a cup of tea. I knew that I was going to be alone at home.
He showed up, we sat and drank some tea, talked about all sorts of topics such as religion, politics and so on. I wanted to know what was he thinking, what he’s thoughts were. Then, in the middle of the conversation, out of nowhere, he just said:
“Fajid, I like you!”
There was no ambiguity in the way he had spoken those words, but I tried to play dumb, since his confidence took me by surprise and I didn’t know how to react:
“Yes, I like you too, Harrad!” and I smiled.
He suddenly became a bit sad and he added:
“No, I mean I really like you, Fajid, I love you”
That was when my thoughts froze. I could not believe what I was hearing and I continued to think it was a joke, but then he looked me in the eyes and I instantly knew it was true. I grabbed him by the head and crushed my lips against he’s.
He moaned and both of us just let go of our feelings and our hearts took over that night. It was the one moment when I felt completely free and happy.
In the morning we decided not to tell anyone about what had happened between us. We perfectly knew the dangers that we would subject ourselves to. But it was not meant to last.
In about two weeks past that moment, I found out that he had been discovered to be gay. He had faced his parents and told them about his sexual orientation, but he had kept our secret safe. Nonetheless, he was sentenced to death shortly after and executed in the public square along other two convicted homosexuals. I had to go to the execution, in order to avoid all suspicions, but I could not look at him. I knew he was looking for my sight, but I just couldn’t. He died and for what? What kind of life is that lived in fear and under the constant threat of death?
How could other people tell me how I should live my life and what values I should bow to? I am captive in a fascist country and a demonic religion. This is not about love, this is about slavery and death.
I hope one day to be able to live the life I want. Love is my most cherished life force and I will fight for what’s rightfully mine. Everybody should do so.