Hassna Story
Everything has its beginning, and everything has an end.
The family of LGBTQI people, in all our diversity, has been told again and again that Africa is only a continent of problems: wars, hatred, crises. We are made to believe that we live in darkness. But when you look at us, you see light. The white man invented the idea of difference in color. The white man planted hatred among us, declaring white as good and black as bad.
That is not true. Africa has so much to share, so much to give. And Pride Africa is about creating the moment to do so.
No one should stop us from having these moments. Each of us carries our own story, our own history, our own background. The difference is that not all of us are given a microphone, or the audience I have today. My dream was that Pride Africa would be that microphone, for all of us.
For many of us, our families would not listen. Our parents, our neighbors, our schools, our churches cast us aside. Some even build entire organizations dedicated to teaching hatred to our children. That is why I ask you: do we not need this space? I was born and raised as a girl in an Islamic background. From the beginning, my clothes, my behavior, were policed. When I questioned why I felt different, I was labeled a problem. Teachers, leaders, even family said I should not live among others for fear of teaching them “bad character.” They stopped my education, sent me home, and barred me from any school.
When I returned to my parents, they condemned me. They said I was sent to learn, not to behave like a boy. I was rejected again and again. At every turn, decisions were taken for me, my voice ignored. I asked myself: if everyone rejects me, who will love me? I lost my parents when I was young. My mother always told me: follow the crowd, do what others do, if you want peace. But I knew peace was impossible if I denied who I was. I needed to find people who would love me as I am. And that is why I founded the organization you see today.
I am a mother, with two daughters. I got married. Yet even then, I was still called a problem. My siblings rejected me publicly. They asked: where do you belong? If I am a mother, does that mean I cannot also be who I truly am? Too often, the white world has defined what it means to be gay, lesbian, or transgender. Why can Africans not define ourselves on our own terms? Why must we inherit definitions made elsewhere?
This is my path, my journey. And I know it is not only mine. We talk about rights, but in reality, we cannot go to school, we lack homes, we lack medical care. And yet we are still fighting. We must identify the real enemy: hatred and discrimination. That is why Pride Africa must be a bridge. A bridge between those with access and those without. A bridge between the grassroots mobilizers, the professionals, the programmers, the technocrats. Each of us is a resource for the other. We must lift each other as we rise.
This was the address delivered to the delegates of Pride Africa 2025, where Hassna Murenzi, Executive Director of FADA, shared her vision that birthed the gathering.
It is this vision that now grounds the work and delivery of both Pride Africa the Programme and Pride Africa, the annual gathering.
We come from different cultures, but we are one Africa. White people know how to connect across borders. Why should we not also connect, not in spite of our differences, but because of them? If I die today, my dream is that you remain together as Africans. For we are the light of this world. That is the bridge I dream of.
Are you ready to build that bridge? Do you feel that connection? We cannot be the bridge if we do not know our connections, as Africans, as one people. Together, we have the tools, we have the space, and we have each other.
Solidarity for all.
We have no choice but to stand together, to love each other, and to build that bridge.