“I would rather have a dead son than a living sinner”

When Kir’s relatives (his name has been changed) found out that he was gay, they beat him and threatened to kill him. I picture the small flat on the outskirts of Moscow where this went on for months: the flat from which Kir was taken to Saudi Arabia for forced treatment, and where he was locked up after his phone and identity documents had been taken away.

His voice on the phone sounds relaxed and cheerful, even though he is talking about horrifying things. I cannot see his face, and he cannot see mine: this is necessary for safety reasons. I ask questions and listen to his answers, unable to shake the thought that through his voice I am hearing the Uzbek, Tajik, Kyrgyz and Chechen boys who fall victim to their relatives’ religious beliefs. They will never have the chance to tell their stories, and I am glad to have been trusted to record Kir’s story with care — an Aegis case with a happy ending.

Childhood

My mother had a miscarriage, and then she had twins: my sister and me.

We were brought up strictly. In Islam, there are ages at which children begin to be taught religious practice: for girls, when they start menstruating; for boys, when they reach puberty, around 10–12.

But my father decided that we should begin learning about Islam at five. He started teaching us the ritual prayers and surahs, and made sure we were disciplined in our studies. Our father is very religious, the kind of person who lets you know you have done something wrong with a look. I do not remember how he treated my mother. She is a doctor and was always working.

We were born in Uzbekistan, but moved to Russia when we were six. First to Altai Krai, and later to Moscow.

Sex education in Islam

There was never a direct conversation about sex. My father is the kind of person who does not put his own thoughts into words, but relies on religion and its concepts. My sister began covering her hair at 16.

Because I was a boy, he always took me along, but never explained anything or said, “Look at how I live, and do the same.” He inherited his religious beliefs. I never knew my grandparents, but my father used to say that his own father had been a mufti.

Realising I was gay

It was very difficult for me. When I was about 14 or 15, my friends had lots of erotic pictures and videos of girls on their phones, and they would discuss them excitedly. Then at one point I realised that I was not interested in the subject at all, but the boy talking to me had such a beautiful chin, hands and neck.

I lived with internalised homophobia until I was about 22 or 23. I prayed to drive away my thoughts about guys. But in Moscow I met LGBT people and decided that, since I had lived all those years without God punishing me, there could not be anything wrong with liking boys.

Being outed

I was in a relationship with one guy for a long time, and kept it hidden for about six or seven years altogether.

My emotions always show on my face, and back then, a year ago, I was very upset about my relationship. My sister kept asking what was wrong, and I made excuses about having problems with a girlfriend, that sort of thing. “I’m your sister, you’re not telling me everything. I’m your sister, tell me,” she said. Eventually I told her, and regretted it.

No, at first my sister took it all right — at least, she did not react negatively. But then she started saying it was wrong. “How will you have children? How will you tell our parents? How will you live with this? Or will you wait until they die? You’re the only son, you need an heir.” “What difference does it make to you?” I replied. “I’ll manage somehow. Other people live like this and they’re fine.”

Maybe she thought she was helping me, but once, in the heat of an argument, my sister said that if I did not stop, she would tell our parents everything.

My sister

She is married and has two children. I remember how sad I was that my sister would live in another home and only come to visit us. It felt like a betrayal somehow; I did not want to be separated from her.

The hierarchy of sins in Islam

I do not know about other religions, but in Islam there is no recognition that LGBT people can love, that we like and feel comfortable being who we are. Our families think that someone has possessed us, that we could never have come up with this ourselves.

To my family, it is a kind of stigma. We have strong family ties, and news spreads quickly. There is a fear of being hounded for having a gay son, for supposedly bringing shame and harming the whole family. So they try either to hide it or to eradicate it, to do anything so that this person no longer walks the earth or exists.

There are plenty of other things that can bring shame, but having a gay son is seen as even worse than having a daughter involved in prostitution.

The jinn-expulsion industry

In Christianity, I have heard, there is specialised training: Catholic priests study to perform exorcisms. There is nothing like that in Islam, just madrasa schools in Mecca and Medina. That is where these imams who become muftis come from. These people simply know the basics of the religion and start practising; they believe that reading the Quran can cure someone.

That “exorcist” was simply paid to recite prayers and touch me. He also blessed some water, even though that water is already considered holy. Probably to make absolutely sure it worked.

It really is a way of making money, because the mufti recited prayers over me for 30 minutes and nothing about me changed. Because there are no jinn inside me.

I do not know how much it costs in Mecca and Medina, but in Russia this kind of “jinn expulsion” costs about 2,000 roubles.

How the Muslim community finds “runaways”

After I was outed, I went to Tula and tried to contact the Russian LGBT Network. But at that point my case was not considered serious enough for evacuation: they concluded that my life was not in danger.

But there is the ummah, the Muslim community: Tajiks, Uzbeks, Kyrgyz people, people from the Caucasus, and many Iranians, and they pass on information. However huge Russia may seem, there are just as many immigrants. Sooner or later, they will find you. That is how my father and uncle found me and took me away. They beat me and locked me up.

The trip to Mecca was during Ramadan. There is a hadith saying that if you go to Mecca and Medina during Ramadan, you receive a double reward. There are two pilgrimages: one is Umrah, and the other is Hajj. We went on Umrah. And if you go on Umrah during the holy month, it is as though you are going on Hajj.

I remember my relatives arguing in another room that we needed to leave as soon as possible so I could be cured, so that the sins I had committed could be cleansed.

I did not try to escape then. I thought it would be easier if I made concessions and talked to them: they would become more accepting, and there would be a chance to escape a second time. And that is what happened.

Escaping

I managed to reach Georgia, but I was not allowed to stay in the transit area to wait for my flight to the next destination. Airport staff cited non-existent regulations and letters, sending me back and forth. In the end, they said that Russians were not welcome in Europe. That it was not my fault personally, but the state’s fault. They wished me luck finding somewhere to spend the night.

As I later found out, some people are lucky enough to be allowed to travel on, and others are not.

Science and religion

I do not understand how my mother could be a doctor, a person of science, and yet it was her idea to take me to Mecca and Medina to be “treated”. I do not know how she came up with it. Maybe someone advised her, and in desperation she decided to try?

What result were they expecting after spending so much money? Since what happened, I have not spoken to either my mother or my father. They have not tried to contact me either.

I would like to say to them: “What did you achieve? For 29 years, you didn’t know I was gay. Then you found out. Why did you react like that? The ‘treatment’ achieved nothing. What will you do next? Disown me? Well, I’ll go on living. If I lived those 29 years without bringing shame on you, always keeping my personal life, family and religion separate, what would have changed if we had carried on living, but on good terms? We became enemies in a matter of seconds, for no reason.”

LGBTQ+ Muslims and God

I know just one person who lives in Europe, is queer and practises Islam.

When we talk about religion, we only discuss its finer points. We do not say that what we do is haram and that hell and damnation await us. I think there are other LGBT Muslims in the world too, but you have to make an effort to find them, because they keep a low profile and are afraid. For me, religion is like going to university, graduating, and then simply living with that knowledge. That knowledge helps and supports you.

I absolutely do not believe that God is against me because I am gay. I think God will treat me the way I treat other people and myself.

Changing society’s attitudes towards LGBTQ+ people

Recently, Tbilisi Pride was broken up by homophobes. One person said: “If we keep whining, complaining, asking the police or the state to protect us, attitudes will stay the same. Let’s learn to stand up for ourselves.” Remembering my own story, I thought: “What if I had been stronger, physically and mentally, and none of this had happened?” Yes, it seems we need to learn to fight for ourselves.

Once we start fighting, they will accept us. Maybe then there will be the first gay mufti.

Friends

We have a close-knit community here that reacts quickly when others are in trouble. “What do you need: food? Money? Somewhere to stay?” I react very strongly to that, and the guys are always surprised that it was different in Moscow.

When I arrived here, I felt free and relaxed, and the fear went away. I am filled with boundless joy.

We go out somewhere with new friends, and there are friends of a friend there, and we get to know them. Then we go somewhere else with that friend, who knows someone else. And I feel that I am not alone: there are lots of people like me, and I can hang out with any of them, talk, share things. And that is great. I had been missing people.

Dreams

It is too early to dream yet. But I would like to achieve enormous success and, at some point, make myself known to my family: look at the great guy you lost. To tell them that none of the things they imagined happened. That I have a wonderful life.

I want to make myself visible so that my family accepts me as I am. Because I cannot close my eyes to everything that happened, or accept that they disowned me. I want them to accept me as I am. Being gay changes nothing. I am still the son they raised — a person with honour and dignity.

That is my dream.

My mother, my father and forgiveness

I have not forgiven them yet. They say a mother is always closer to her son, and a father to his daughter. But even if that is not true, a mother should always support and help you. I feel more hurt by my mother’s cold, unmaternal attitude. She would not even call me by my name. She just said “him”, “call him”, “tell him”. She no longer looked me in the eye.

For some reason, I always thought that if I ever found the courage to tell anyone, I would tell my mother. A mother’s heart would understand her child, and she would be more accepting than my father. But no. None of that happened.

Of course, I feel hurt by my father too. He repeatedly told me: “I’d rather you were dead than walking this earth.”

What I share with my family

I think I am more like my father in character, in my sense of justice and willingness to compromise. Like my mother, probably, in my love of truth.