Today as part of my #51days act of solidarity, I shall change my twitter profile to
‘I am Rohingya”
The Rohingya are an ethnic group that live in Myanmar – formerly Burma – they are mostly Muslims in a country that is predominantly Buddhist.
For a toxic mix of reasons – ranging from religious difference, land grab, ethnic hatred to simply being – the Rohingya have been persecuted almost out of existence. First by successive military juntas and now from a democratically elected government itself led by a former political prisoner and Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi.
The Rohingya seem to be the favorite whipping boy of everyone with power in Myanmar and the world seems mostly deaf and mute to their persecution.
The Rohingya do not deserve to be murdered, their women raped, their leaders tortured and disappeared. No one does. If they have committed a crime – charge and apply the law against them. To the best of my knowledge, their only crime, as a group, is to exist.
The violence and discrimination is both by agents of the Myanmar start under the pretense of security and by private militias with the tacit and often, active, support of the State.
For each of those days,I will change my name on Twitter to reflect a cause I want to support and bring some attention in a small way.
There is so much wrong with the world. There is so much that is right too.
We are each nodes in a big network of humanity and when we refuse to pass on the right or suppress the wrong, we degrade the network. It stops working and it lets the mundane overshadow the truly meaningful.
But I’m only a node and over the next 51 days, I’m going to be a little better at being that.
I’m pretty active on Twitter. I blog about things that interest me, I jump into conversations, I rant. My tweets are shared, liked and retweeted that creates reach beyond the 3000+ people that follow me. A change in name – especially one that provokes curiosity spreads my message. It might just provoke the right action from the right person.
What can I do to help?
Retweet me, like my tweets.
Tweet about this action – if you support the same cause or simply want to support my activism.
Share this post.
Share the messages that have the hashtag #51days – they will be about the issue of the day.
Join me – if you’re on Twitter, change your twitter name in solidarity.
Or simply just share about this stupid thing Mike is doing now.
I’m tired, very very tired of trying to build startups.
So very tired of starting from scratch with every idea. Of the hustling and the hacking.
I’m tired of hearing people saying ‘No’ and the ‘Oh it’s a great idea but..’.
I’m tired of the apathy – of sending 10,000 emails and having only 10% of recipients read them.
Most of all, I’m tired of the conflict in my head. There are so many ideas and the flow is not stopping anytime soon. I want a way to stop having them. The spirit is like a puppy eagerly prodding me to play but the mind and body is knackered.
These ideas, these pursuits, these startups – however exciting they are and however much I think they are useful to the world, they are stealing my time and that is the only thing I cannot replace.
Sure, I take untold pleasure in each new idea – I totally dance with it and am consumed by it. I won’t have it any other way. That itself takes a toll – it’s exhausting. Conjuring up ways this idea could rock and then building it, that is so so tiring!
I want to give up and take a job in a smallish to medium sized human centered company – or at least one where they genuinely pretend to appreciate my being there and pay me enough money to stay.
I’m tired of making decisions. Tired of being the one that worries how the bills will be paid. Tired of living on a shoestring whilst bootstrapping ideas that rock but don’t sell.
I’m tired of feeling alone in this. Tired of confronting my inadequacies everyday, of doing things that scare me. Of being rubbish at a great many things. I’m tired of learning every damn day. Of things being hard.
I hire people and they are wonderful – but we shoulder different burdens. They seem able to leave the work behind when they log off. They are committed to get their bits done and they care that the idea works – I suspect more because we get on well – but yet – I feel alone. They, understandably are concerned about each part they are responsible for, I am accountable for the whole being more than the sum of the parts.
I’m tired of context switching between the things I have to do to fund the things I love doing. The first is enjoyable and somewhat fulfilling and is entirely about the success of other people. The other is an unparalleled rush – a rollercoaster of everything.
I’m so very tired. Do I rest or do I give up? I don’t really know. I hope it passes soon.
I’ve met some of the most interesting personalities on planes. Or at airports.
There is something about the transience of travel that seems to bring out a form of casual honesty.
One such encounter was on a flight from Spain to Boston. As we boarded my connecting fight to Boston from JFK, I took my seat by the window and like everyone else seated, waited on others to take theirs.
It’s My Seat
Seated next to me were a Chinese couple – young and obviously very into each other. As we all waited for the rest of the passengers to make their way to their seats, stow their stuff and belt up, this couple canoodled right next to me – all good.
Then a dude comes up to our seat row and begins a most bizarre conversation with the couple -mostly with the lady. It went almost exactly like this:
Dude: – ‘I think you are in my seat’
Lady – with the embarrassed smile of someone about to ask a favor of a stranger – ‘Yes I know, I have a window seat couple of rows up – would you mind swapping so that I can sit with my boyfriend?’
Dude: “Sure no problem – 50 bucks!”
Lady – astounded and confused – “Pardon me?”
Dude – face as straight as laces — “If you want us to swap seats – I’ll need 50 bucks!”
In the meantime, they are holding up the boarding and the usual announcements are interrupting the conversation – but the pressure is on to conclude whatever transaction is emerging. During this time, the couple are speaking to each other rather quickly and in hushed tones in Chinese.
Then the exchange continues.
Dude – “So lady, what do you wanna do – I need to take my seat”
Lady – “Ok – I’ll pay you $40”
Deal or No Deal
More boarding interruptions and announcements – giving the couple a chance to continue their negotiations – the man is pretty adamant he doesn’t want them to pay.
Lady – “Ok, this is ridiculous. We’re not paying you to swap seats”
Dude – “No problem, please can you get out of my seat so I can sit down”.
At this point the lady gets up, gets her stuff and goes off to take her assigned seat – which was still empty and waiting for her.
This is a lovely spot to end the story. Plenty here to be astounded and ponder over.
The dude sat between me and the man from the Chinese couple whose canoodling was cut short and was clearly not feeling too great about that.
But that is another story.
I recently showed my son to use a toilet brush to clean up a mess he made.
Of course he turned his nose up and made the face that says ‘this is a shitty job’. It is.
Life is full of shitty jobs – crappy things that you sometimes have to do as part of the other amazing, interesting things there are to be done.
Some shitty jobs are cleanups of a mess you made.
Some are cleanups of a mess that others make.
Some jobs are just shitty.
However they come about – there is learning and character growth in this work. It teaches kids to be prepared to do necessary messy jobs and the humility to value all labor – even that of dealing with crappy work.
My life’s work is to bring up my kids to care about the world and to treat everyone with respect by default. The nature of people’s labor has become a way to discriminate and in some cultures – yes you India! – it has become institutionalized discrimination. I’m against treating people badly because of what work they do and this is a principle I teach my kids.
Helping your kid recognize they made a mess – in my son’s case a rather unsightly cluster splatter – and supporting them to clean it up is an opportunity to help them grow. It is an invitation to a conversation about who would do it instead and what that would mean. It is a ticket to explore the bigger idea of what it means to be in a family and the distribution of work in a unit that exists together and individual responsibility in that unit.
When I was a kid, someone taught me to use a toilet brush and it helped me value all labor and to be prepared to do even the stinkiest work and not let that work define me as a human being.
It’s 5:15 AM in Geneva and the train to the airport is getting busy.
Amongst all the bleary eyed travelers is a seemingly ‘normal’ individual. Rain jacketed, clean shaven and serious looking.
He sits down in the sit adjacent to mine, makes no eye contact and proceeds to read his newspaper.
“Blah blah Federale blah blah” he argues across from me. I look up and now we make eye contact – as in my eyes met his, but all I saw were eyeballs. There was no recognition of connection – as far as I could tell, the lights were on, but no one was home. The argument – as best as I could make it out in French – was fit for the European Parliament. It seemed to be political in nature – he mentions Vladimir Putin and makes some other political references.
This chap was having a full blown emotional political exchange with no one in the carriage that I could see. He got increasingly agitated with his oration. I wish I understood what he was saying. More importantly, I wish I understood how his life, experience, his brain and chemical composition all aligned to bring this guy ranting out a political argument with no one in particular.
My reaction was “this dude is crazy”. And then I caught myself analysing both my response and the response of other nearby passengers.
There is a moment in a public space when a member of the group in the space behaves in a way that is not considered ‘normal’. It is an awkward moment. No one wants to engage with the person – either verbally or non-verbally. We look away, we pretend they don’t exist. We hope they will stop being ‘not normal’. As it persists, gazes will find themselves and wry little smiles – acknowledging the awkwardness and recognising another who is trapped in the encounter with mental health.
By and large, we in European societies – East to West, North to South – do not know how to treat mental illness. By ‘treat’ I don’t mean medicate or repair. I mean ‘relate to’. I wonder how long this has been like this. Perhaps forever?
I’m Joe Public and so are you. What can we do differently and more humanely relate to people with mental health issues?
Today is Bob Marley‘s 70th birthday. It got me thinking about music and revolution. I have a favour to ask you, but first…
We are all Children of Revolution
I grew up in Nigeria in the 70s and 80s. This was the best of times and it was the worst of times.
There was a struggle going on. A struggle between the political thought, a struggle between the kleptocrats and everyone else.
Similarly in the UK, another struggle was in flow – between those who wanted to put the national cake in private hands. They largely succeeded and in doing so, they destroyed the social fabric of the working class for generations.
Through all this socio-political revolution was one constant. Music.
For me, the music that plays when I think of Nigeria’s revolutions – past, present and future – is Fela. He foresaw the kleptocracy and the hijacking of democracy. He saw the ‘power show’. He saw the cattle trading of the international political elite and he knew how this was playing out.
When I want to understand the US Civil Rights revolution, I simply listen to Nina Simone. Her music was deep in empathy and communicated so much more of the pain, injustice and hope beyond the words she sang.
When I listen to UB40’s music from the 80s, I get a sense of the disillusionment of the youth of the day – the riots, the joblessness, the conflict with a generation that didn’t understand its children.
What Music Fuels Your Revolution and Your Struggle?
But there are always revolutions going on and there is always music.
Your revolution does not have to be a war or a conflict, but it does have to be a struggle that has significant consequences depending on who triumphs.
It could be Iran, Egypt, the struggle of the indigenous Bolivians. It could be the Occupy Movement. It could be Israel and Palestine, it could be the Western Sahara. It could be anywhere!
It could be a struggle against religion or a political or economic system. Or any system for that matter.
It could be religious music, punk, folk, afrobeat or anything – what did it’s words do for your movement.
The Favour – Join Me In Celebrating The Music of Revolution.
I want to see – in my lifetime – a celebration of this music.
I want to see it spark a reawakening and re-energising of the movements fighting the good fight. I want the struggle – in its new and emerging battle grounds to be renewed by the timeless messages and power of the words and lives of Bob, Fela, Nina and countless others.
It won’t happen on its own and I can’t do it on my own – so I need your help.
In 2016 , I want to see a stage of this music in festivals across the world. From Glastonbury to Paleo, from Coachella to Midi in China and across all genres. This stage will be an unprecedented mashup of music styles and personalities – united by the thread of social and political catalysis.
Imagine an unprecedented line up of Bob Dylan, the Sex Pistols, Seun Kuti, Femi Futi, UB40, Ziggy, Damien and Stephen Marley, Manu Chao and dozens of others on the same stage – united in the music of protest and telling the story of social change through the power of music.
My hope is that we can get this in to 12 global festivals across the world.
Please help me make this happen. Do you want to be a part of this? Then tweet, email or ping me on Skype and let’s going. The world needs this.
It seems individuals with all kinds of agenda and reasons are calling for Cosby be boycotted, hounded and illegally persecuted.
Now – more than ever – we have to strive to be nations governed by democratic laws. Because without them we have chaos of might over right. Without laws, we have the powerful exploiting the week. I lived through that and it ain’t pretty.
But we have laws so let us use them.
Charge Bill Cosby or shut the fuck up. Go grind your axe where you cut your tree and leave the man be.
The allegations against Cosby are serious – too serious to leave to the media circus. If the charges are true – his victims deserve justice.
If the accusers require anonymity – the law permits anonymity in many cases – let them seek it.
No one deserves to be accused of something and thrown to the media whores of popularity and 15 minutes of sensationalism. If you have evidence – even strong circumstantial evidence – present it, charge him and let him face his accusers in a court. Otherwise shut the fuck up.
Also, silence is not a presumption of guilt. If Cosby keeps quiet – how on Earth does that prove he is guilty?
If Cosby’s accusers are worried about legal bills, let all the people calling for Cosby’s head in the press and social networks put their hands in their pockets and put their money where their venom is. That would make a tidy legal fund. I would contribute to that.
If there is a statute of limitations in the way – use your media force to have it overturned. It is possible.
If found guilty Bill Cosby should face the full brunt of the law, he deserves his name to be dragged into the mud and all his wealth redistributed to any confirmed victims as restitution. His age should not spare him, his disgrace should be total and irredeemable.
If found guilty, he deserves to spend 10 years per proven assault in a maximum security prison with a big horny man named Bubba and no lubricant.
So – stop this circus, charge Cosby or shut the fuck up.
Note: Comments are closed on this post. I don’t want to hear allegations. Charge him or shut the fuck up.
Imagine you couldn’t swim and you fell into a deep pool.
As you sped down to the bottom — sinking lower and lower, confused and afraid.
Your only hope. To reach the rocky bottom and push back up with everything you’ve got.
To focus all that you are into a single powerful purpose — re-emergence. Your hope is to use the support of the floor to fight against an otherwise sealed fate.
Defiance is the point at which you fight back and rage — with all your might — against death.
If you don’t make it to the bottom, to the your salvation and hope. There is no force to keep you alive. There is only Death.
Death. The end of your dreams and the dreams of others to whom you matter.
Now imagine that this pool is deeper than you somehow expected in your confusion.
You begin to slow down as you reach the bottom.
This place is Despair. It is a place where your fears and worries are at their most terrifying and where you are least capable to do anything about them.
Despair is also a moment in time. It is when you do not know if you will make it to the bottom — to your point of Defiance.
Despair is when Defiance is just as likely to be the next line of your life story as Death.
What makes the world go around? I think part of the secret sauce of what makes the world worth enduring is neither money nor fame. I think that it is being helpful to other people – personally and professionally.
One of my life strategies is giving freely what I have to get what I want. I practice this both professionally and personally and it has overwhelmingly been a successful strategy. Living this way has brought me into some pretty interesting collaborations and I’ve met so many beautiful people.
So I want to do more of this.
I have decided to offer time – one hour a day, 4 days each week – to anyone, from anywhere to explore anything.
The slots are 30 minutes long and to make it most accessible there are slots AM and the PM and are typically available Monday-Thursday.
The slots are first come/first served and are open to individuals and groups.
It is free to book and meet with me during those times. I will never charge for this time, though I reserve the right to cancel it.
Even though it is free – I am asking and trusting that people who book me do not undervalue my time by not showing up without notice.
Recurring bookings are discouraged because I want as many people to have a chance to get some help. But I may make exceptions.
How Might You Use This
Here are some ideas depending on your context of how you might use this:
You’re thinking of starting a Startup – I can help by sharing what I have done and what I am doing – also what I have learnt. Or mostly I can shut up and listen and help you sanity check your approach, devise experiments etc. Let’s see, why not book a slot on my SoHelpful.me page
You’re working in a broken company and need to talk to someone who understands – I work in trying to help broken companies fix themselves and help people get more Joy. I can help with strategies to create awareness for change in your company.
You are part of an agile team/department/company and would like to get some help about practices, pains etc – I’ve worked with agile teams for over 12 years and coached companies for over 7. I can help development, product and management people. Maybe I can remote facilitate something, observe and help you improve your process or help with some mini training. Let’s explore – book a slot on my SoHelpful.me page
You are trying to find strategies for enabling conversations in your circles and life – I struggle with this too and I can help with building rapport, asking powerful questions, facilitating large groups and having non-violent communication. Book a slot on my SoHelpful.me page and let’s get the conversation started.
I am also celebrating because my life is pretty much perfect. Almost all my needs are met – save two. That is not bad, I’m a couple of things away from perfection. And one of them is actually not a biggie, plus it is tremendous fun trying to get it.
My life is near perfect because I’m pretty fit and healthy and generally feel great.
I’m genuinely happy with here I am – joyful in fact.
My Joy comes from spending my life around my wife – Katharine – and my boys – Ruben and Haydn – in whose love, playfulness and curious wonder I delight.
My Joy is multiplied when I think of my daughters – Erin and Brianna – who have been through so much that was not of their choosing, yet emerge as these strong, intelligent and beautiful human beings who feel and care so deeply and love so unreservedly.
My Joy comes from our little village in Andalusia, Spain – with 300 days of gorgeous sunshine and surrounded by beautiful people who understand that life is better when it is simpler.
And my joy just got boosted with Maya – our new puppy, who was abandoned and destined to be destroyed. Instead she is our family and we are hers.
When I look over the last 35 years – I cannot remember much before that – I see beauty and strength in the people and the events of the past – even those that would otherwise be ugly incidents.
I see the soul light and hear the heart song of my friends and my family, whose lives I am so proud to have been a part of.
I see my mum – Harinder – who is truly incomparable to anyone who has ever lived and possibly ever live.
Harinder – whose passion for humanity, justice and fairness extends far beyond her family and lays unshakeable foundations for magnificence in all those who know her.
Harinder – who redefines ‘family’ to mean the World and by doing so, widens the circle of love for her and her children immeasurably.
I also see my dad – Hartley – who only now – 23 years after his death, do I begin to understand deeply who he was, what he endured and how – despite everything – remained such a beautiful soul and who I will miss forever.
I take Joy from my memories.
Wherever the winds of time take us, I never forget that once we laughed and danced together – like children – unafraid and as though no one was watching.
Twenty years ago today, a country went mad as though possessed by forces bent on brutal genocide.
Twenty years ago today, began 100 days of slaughter. Over 800,000 men, women and children were slaughtered by their friends, teachers, neighbours, adoptive family, priests and protectors.
My birthday is forever connected with the Rwandan genocide and I’m OK with that because the World needs a reminder that unless we actively work to turn our differences into our collective advantage then we are doomed to repeat the violence of Rwanda, Serbia and all those bloody chapters in our story.
The question is what we do with that reminder?
At the heart of genocide is difference and the dehumanisation of people based on a perverted perception of differences. But genocide is only one outcome from differences.
Everyday, millions of people – like you and me – can make a choice to acknowledge and celebrate our differences and make them work for us. How might we get more people to make those choices?
Please make my day.
The last missing bit of my perfect life – the reason Joy cannot ever be total, is something outside my control. But I can do something towards getting it. I can make a simple invitation.
Please will you be willing to find someone today – a friend or stranger – and ask them as sincerely as you can:
What are you needing, right now?
Wait, let them speak without interruption, listen and help them share it with you.
Then do whatever you can can to meet as much of that need as you can.
As the painstaking search for MH370 continues and as families wait desperately for news – any news – of the fate of their loved ones, I can’t help but think we are in a dangerous mindset as a global community – that we are believing the hype of what we can and cannot do as a global civilisation.
Fact has merged with fiction – science fiction especially – and we now think that we have capabilities that will fix any and every thing.
What we believe we have is not what we have
Ongoing revelations of the capabilities of Intelligence agencies to spy on and store everything from everyone all the time add to the illusion that all information about everything is known or even knowable. It serves Big Brother well for us to think this – it curtails what we say and to whom. Fighting this is the core of the privacy movement.
From Hollywood we get the continual onslaught of militaristic salvation – any threat from anywhere will be defeated by our armies and our brave warriors – even if those are super heroes from comic books. We can carpet bomb, annihilate with nuclear devastation. We can even explore distant planets and keep in constant touch with our robotic vehicles on them.
Advances in medicine are offering promising defences against our micro-predators – we may soon even defeat aging. Technology is giving us exponentially faster, more ‘intelligence’ gadgets that give us more control on our architected environments and our man-made infrastructure.
All this unavoidably seeds the thought that, as a civilisation, are invincible – even if those capabilities are not actually universally available or applied. But nevertheless, there is a sense that when something truly tragic happens, we can harness our global capabilities to save lives and triumph in the adversity. But sadly, we can’t. The best we can do is pick up the pieces of disaster.
In reality – whilst we are not in the Dark Ages, we are still a small player in this big world. We are as nothing to the whims of weather. In the battle for planet Earth, she will always win, even if that means we become extinct. When we raise alarm about climate change, global warming and rising sea levels, it is not because we fear for the planet. We fear for ourselves and life as we know it.
Once upon a time, we knew our place in the system
Hundreds of years ago, when science was still in its infancy and knowledge was in the hands of relatively few people and the distribution network was basic at best, humans accepted – more easily- that tragedy happens and there is nothing we could do about it.
Ships would go out into the treacherous open oceans and may never return – the ocean bed is littered with unheard cries for rescue and salvation. As desperate as it sounds, humans had a more realistic understand of what they were capable of.
We knew our place within the system. Our place has not really changed – we have no more real responsibility than we ever had, we instead have increased our ability to meet the responsibility we have always had. Neither has the consequence of disrupting the balance of the our natural systems changed. Earth will whip our collective asses in the same ways – only the effects on us will be more devastating.
Be kind to the people who are doing their best
Against the backdrop of this misplaced belief that we can find anything are the people who are actually looking. They are discovering first hand that what they thought they had doesn’t really cut it. Hundreds of people using truely sophisticated technology – some so secret, we can only guess – are discovering that all this tech isn’t yielding any more than speculation.
The Malaysian government – as politically dysfunctional as any – are trying to do the best they can. But they are clueless – not because of a lack of competence – but because there really aren’t that many clues and even fewer promising ones. If everyone is grasping at straws, perhaps it is because there are only straws.
So let’s be kinder to them and everyone involved in both addressing the tragedy and breaking the news to us that we are believing our own delusions of invincibility. Perhaps we would be better engaged in trying to understand what we think we can do versus what we actually can do.
Will we ever find MH370 – I don’t know, I sincerely hope we do. Finding this plane – in whatever state it is in will ease the pain of not knowing for the desperate families of the passengers and crew.
Hope is what fuels us through adversity. We must be hopeful that we can be better and do better, but it mustn’t blind us to the false hope in capabilities we do not yet possess, because life and nature will call our bluff over and over again.
Sometimes my heart is full of heaviness – pain, despair, anger, frustration and little isolated envies. Anger – at the disconnectedness between our hearts, between us and the pockets of truth it space and time. Frustration – at the time we are wasting on being disconnected and in pursuit of things that feed our delusions of ourselves.
When I feel this I want to be alone because I feel alone and I feel I want to be disconnected because we are disconnected. Sometimes I feel like I don’t want any part of the world I perceive anymore. And sometimes I am not.
Sometimes my heart is full of lightness and things that make me giggle. Things that elevate us above our other selves – and connect us to better,happier versions of who we are. It is full of unbelievable joy – that I can hardly contain. It feels like my heart will burst and an irrepressible light will burst forth into the world. And sometimes it does.
When I feel this way, I want to everyone to experience what I am experiencing, because if they did, it might change how the world seems to them forever.
My heart is always full and I endure or enjoy in full measure.
I often weep, sometimes inside, sometime openly. Whether heaviness or lightness, I weep. The only difference is what my tears contain and why they flow.
When my heart is full of lightness, my tears contain unbounded joy overflowing from my heart to the world – seeking to make channels through hard surfaces, working its way around the mistrust and resistance of the world to connect with all the beauty in the world so that it might become a wave that washes away the pain.
When my heart is full of heaviness, they contain despair that seeks to connect with the pain in the world, to form a pool in which we might bathe together but alone.
What really pisses me off about humanity is how – in the same stewing pot – we have some brilliant ideas that move us forward as a species and at the very same time we demonstrate such rank stupidity and brutality that really questions whether we have moved from the cave.
I used to feel quite philosophical about it – the world is huge, it takes different opinions blah blah – now I’m just pissed off.
Now, there are always exceptions to every rule and I am happy to be introduced to them but I have never met anyone who…
Smoked marijuana because it was legal – they do it because they get high and chilled and they like it.
Had sex with other consenting members of the same gender because it was legal – they do it because they love the person or that is the kind of sex that works for them or both. On the contrary – most of the gay people I know have had to struggle through huge opposition to their sexual orientation. Opposition that is mostly presented by people who have no business in the sexual or emotional affairs of others.
Wants to marry to someone of the same gender because the the law allows it – they desire this as an affirmation of their love. Pretty much for the same reasons heterosexual couples desire it.
As it happens I don’t have gay sex – but if I did , and so long as it was consensual with another adult – then the Law and the Protectors-of-Bullshit-Morality have as much business with it as they do with my having straight sex. None.
Don’t get me wrong – anything that is non-consensual and that causes emotional and/or physical injury should be illegal and prosecuted to the fullest extent. We already have semi-reasonable laws around minimum ages of responsibility. They are broad brush, but generally adequate. Let’s use that.
‘Back the hell out of my bed’
I am not agitating for a change in the law on consensual homosexual relationships and recognition by law. I am agitating for a change in how laws are crafted. I don’t believe there should be laws that go anywhere near my sexuality and gender of my beloved. If I am of age – I choose who I want to have sex with and/or marry, so long as they are of age too. Simple.
Any laws, anywhere that bring gender into the sexual or emotional choices of adults is unjust and discriminatory and should be entirely scrapped – not better worded or buffered with concessions – scrapped.
Nigeria , Russia and Uganda are united by their bigotry. But even though it pains me to say – I think the lawmakers of those countries are responding to the larger public opinion. Are most Nigerians, Russian and Ugandans – by virtue of history and religion – deeply hostile to homosexuality. I think they are. And that is the elephant in the room. Unfortunately their governments do not see their role as creating the conditions for a more tolerant society to emerge. That would take courage and courage is in short supply in politicians. But if government lack the courage to help hack more tolerance, then what?
I fear – as in the colonial struggles for independence, the US civil rights movement and the other great struggles to lift societies out of stupidity – it remains for the small pockets of progressive thinking to slowly, painstakingly help their societies to a better place.