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Publication date : Friday, December 02nd 2011 - 27 997 views Jamaica, a gay hell
A paradise island and the cradle of reggae, Jamaica has something in common with Iran and Saudi Arabia. These three countries are considered the most homophobic in the world. In France, this scourge echoes in the cancellation of certain concerts. A fatality on the ground, where an anti-gay consensus seems deeply rooted, to the detriment of the hundreds of homosexuals who live in hell.
In Jamaica, being a man and wearing a pink mini-dress is tantamount to a death wish. Macy, 1.85 metres tall, with fluorescent false nails and an extravagant wig, stands in this shop in downtown Kingston. Her friend has just been found stabbed behind a building. "I'm tired of being afraid!" she says. So she decided to come here and choose some unisex shoes. Within minutes, a crowd is waiting for her, some of them armed with knives.
Macy's audacity goes down badly in this country, considered the most homophobic in the West. Standing back, the police watch and wait for the outcome of this episode, which looks set to turn macabre. To save her skin, she trashes the shop so as to be escorted to the police station and escape the crowd.
Batty boy, Chi Chi man, Fish, Cat or Boogie man... The homosexual community is the most marginalised and persecuted in Jamaica. It is said to number about 300 homosexuals across the country, and of the sixty listed in the capital, half are said to be homeless. Hearing them ask whether they could walk freely down the street in France, it is difficult to answer these youngsters, some barely 13 years old and with bodies already mutilated.
To escape attacks, the only solution is to hole up at home. "I only go out in case of extreme necessity," says Dwayne, 22, who needed seven stitches after an attack in a supermarket. "Of course sometimes I get bored, I listen to music, I watch television, like a housewife!"
 Four anti-gay laws
By day or by night, whether the neighbourhood is rich or poor, homophobia rages on the island. Jamaica was in fact ranked in 2010 among the five most homophobic countries in the world by Amnesty International, alongside Iran and Saudi Arabia.
While no law specifically targets the homosexual community, sexual practices between men are criminalised. "Whosoever is convicted of the abominable crime of buggery shall be liable to imprisonment for a term of up to ten years," stipulates section 76 of the Offences Against the Person Act. In all, four laws punish sexual relations between men, even consensual ones.
Present in law, in social attitudes and on the airwaves, the cause is hard to pin down, according to the director of J-Flag, the country's main gay rights organisation. For many, religion plays the main role, Jamaica having the highest number of places of worship per square metre. Add to that politics, education and music.
 Dancehall, reflection or influence?
"J-Flag supports freedom of expression but artists must take responsibility and own their influence on listeners," explains the organisation's director, pointing to songs that call for the murder of homosexuals. He adds some nuance: "Jamaica is not homophobic because of dancehall artists. It is because the island is homophobic that the lyrics are too." According to a dancehall artist and a producer, supporting the gay cause would spell the artist's death. "Suicide for your career; the compromise would be to keep your mouth shut!"
The cancelled international shows do not stop Kartel, Bounty Killer or Sizzla from having followers among homosexuals. "What else do you want me to dance to? The Charleston?" jokes Gabriella. "I'm 23, and like every Jamaican my age, I listen to dancehall. If I boycotted homophobes, I couldn't do anything at all here," insists this young transvestite. Yet there is no question of going to hear them on the beach. "No, beach parties are off-limits for us, unless you want to be found floating the next day."
To take them out of their daily routine, J-Flag organises, in collaboration with the Jamaica AIDS Support (JAS) clinic, themed nights every Tuesday evening. Over tea and a basket of free condoms, they talk. That night, hearts are not in the party, as the abandoned box of dominoes shows. Between sips of tea, everything revolves around the absent. Jamie, burned alive, Ashann, found stabbed, or Dwayne, beaten to death in broad daylight.
It is Yvonne Artis, head of the JAS clinic, who is called to identify the bodies. The address of these homeless youngsters is the clinic where they shower and eat three times a week. "The situation has got worse," she asserts. "Anyway, even if they are very afraid, they are condemned to risk their lives and come, because we provide the only help in the country."
For those prepared to live their homosexuality openly, the future is mapped out: "death or exile for the luckiest," she says, like a guillotine blade falling.
Report written by Ratiba Hamzaoui
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