✍️ Queer Ugandan writer in exile LGBTQ+ advocate. Currently displaced. Sharing stories of survival, identity and truth. 💌 Support me here: https://chuffed.org/project/1345help-kavuma-abdallah-with-refugee-hardships
The situation where I am has become extremely difficult due to an ongoing internal war. The conflict has caused food prices to skyrocket, and right now, I don’t have anything left to eat.
I’ve been trying to hold on, but things have become unbearable. Every day is a struggle just to get through. I am reaching out to you—my queer family, friends, and allies—because I believe in the power of community. If you can spare even a small amount, it could make a big difference.
This is an urgent plea. I need support to buy food and get through these hard days. If you’ve ever been hungry, you know how deeply painful and exhausting it can be. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical.
Please, if you can, donate. No amount is too small. Every little bit helps, and I would be endlessly grateful for your kindness.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
Keep in mind that Operation Pink Tent that Kavuma ( along with Ashley & Kakebezi ) are on is not run by experienced vetters.
So, I encourage you to do your own research.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
My name is Kavuma. I am a queer Ugandan refugee living in exile. Every day is a fight. Not just for safety, but for the basics: food, clean water, and medical care. Right now, I have no food and I am still recovering from malaria. Life in the refugee camp is hard, and things get worse when donations stop coming in.
The last donation I received was weeks ago, and since then, I have been struggling alone. I have gone to bed hungry more times than I can count. My fundraiser has gone quiet, but my needs have not.
If you have ever been in a situation like this, where you had to choose between food or medicine, then you remember the fear, the pain, the helplessness.
And if you have never experienced this, I am asking you to try and picture it:
You wake up in a place where being yourself is dangerous.
You are sick, but you cannot afford treatment.
You are hungry, but there is nothing to eat.
This is what I live through every day.
Please, if you are in a position to help, donate today. Even the smallest amount can make a difference. If you are not able to give, sharing this post also helps.
The situation where I am has become extremely difficult due to an ongoing internal war. The conflict has caused food prices to skyrocket, and right now, I don’t have anything left to eat.
I’ve been trying to hold on, but things have become unbearable. Every day is a struggle just to get through. I am reaching out to you—my queer family, friends, and allies—because I believe in the power of community. If you can spare even a small amount, it could make a big difference.
This is an urgent plea. I need support to buy food and get through these hard days. If you’ve ever been hungry, you know how deeply painful and exhausting it can be. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical.
Please, if you can, donate. No amount is too small. Every little bit helps, and I would be endlessly grateful for your kindness.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
Homophobic Attacks Still Haunt Us as We Remember the 19th June 2020 Attack on Rainbow Refugees in Kakuma Block 13
On 19 June 2020, in the middle of the day, we the LGBTQ+ refugees living in Block 13 of Kakuma Refugee Camp were violently attacked for simply being who we are.
That day was during Pride Month, a time when queer people across the world celebrate love, identity, and resistance. But for us, it became a painful reminder that being openly LGBTQ+ in Kakuma was seen as a crime worthy of punishment.
A group of people filled with hate surrounded our shelter and began throwing stones and wooden sticks at us. They shouted slurs and insults. They came to harm us. Their goal was to hurt, to silence, and to drive us into hiding.
I was there. I was one of the victims.
I remember the fear, the confusion, and the pain. I remember being struck. I remember seeing my friends covered in blood. Some were hit on the head. Others collapsed from the blows. Many were badly injured. Some still live with those injuries, both physical and emotional.
Since that day, some of our friends have never fully recovered. The trauma remains. The wounds may look healed on the outside, but the pain is still alive. Many of us still struggle to sleep, to feel safe, or to trust that we will not be harmed again.
After the attack, some of us made a difficult decision. We could not stay in Kakuma. We could not stay in Kenya. We fled to a neighboring country to seek safety. I am one of those people. I am currently in another country, still hoping for peace and protection. But even now, the struggle continues. It is not over.
That attack happened in the middle of Pride Month, a time that should have brought us hope. Instead, it brought violence. While others around the world were waving rainbow flags and celebrating love, we were dodging stones and hiding from attackers.
We were attacked because we are queer. We were injured because we were visible. We were forced to flee because we wanted to live in dignity.
We are still here. We are still surviving. And we will keep telling our stories until the world listens and acts.
June is here. Pride Month is a time to celebrate love, identity, and the courage to live authentically. For many, it means joy and freedom. But for people like me, it is a reminder of the risks we take just to exist.
I am a queer Ugandan who had to flee my country because of who I am. Being LGBTQ+ in Uganda is dangerous. I escaped to Kenya hoping for safety, but the threats followed me. I was forced to run again. Now I live in fear, without legal protection, without support, and without a safe place to call home.
Pride Month is not just about rainbows. It is about visibility, resistance, and survival. It is about remembering that so many of us are still fighting every single day. For people like me, Pride is a lifeline.
That is why I need your help. Your donation can mean food, shelter, medicine, or even just a safe place to sleep. Every single contribution makes a real difference in my life.
If you believe in what Pride stands for, freedom, dignity, and equality. please donate. Share this post. Let others know that we are still here and that we still need you.
This Pride, let your support be louder than hate. Help me live with pride.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
June is here. Pride Month is a time to celebrate love, identity, and the courage to live authentically. For many, it means joy and freedom. But for people like me, it is a reminder of the risks we take just to exist.
I am a queer Ugandan who had to flee my country because of who I am. Being LGBTQ+ in Uganda is dangerous. I escaped to Kenya hoping for safety, but the threats followed me. I was forced to run again. Now I live in fear, without legal protection, without support, and without a safe place to call home.
Pride Month is not just about rainbows. It is about visibility, resistance, and survival. It is about remembering that so many of us are still fighting every single day. For people like me, Pride is a lifeline.
That is why I need your help. Your donation can mean food, shelter, medicine, or even just a safe place to sleep. Every single contribution makes a real difference in my life.
If you believe in what Pride stands for, freedom, dignity, and equality. please donate. Share this post. Let others know that we are still here and that we still need you.
This Pride, let your support be louder than hate. Help me live with pride.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
This Pride Month, I'm reaching out to kindly ask for your support. Things have been really tough lately, and I'm in need of help with food. If you're able to lend a hand, even in a small way, it would mean so much.
I want to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has donated and supported me so far. Your kindness and generosity have helped me stay afloat during an incredibly difficult time. I’m truly grateful for each donation, reblog, and kind message. You’ve reminded me that I’m not alone.
I still need help. Things are still very unstable and I’m doing everything I can to survive and take care of myself. If you are able to donate again or share this, it would mean so much. Every little bit helps me afford food, shelter, and the basics I need to keep going.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
Thank you for being here. Your support means more than I can put into words.
The situation where I am has become extremely difficult due to an ongoing internal war. The conflict has caused food prices to skyrocket, and right now, I don’t have anything left to eat.
I’ve been trying to hold on, but things have become unbearable. Every day is a struggle just to get through. I am reaching out to you—my queer family, friends, and allies—because I believe in the power of community. If you can spare even a small amount, it could make a big difference.
This is an urgent plea. I need support to buy food and get through these hard days. If you’ve ever been hungry, you know how deeply painful and exhausting it can be. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical.
Please, if you can, donate. No amount is too small. Every little bit helps, and I would be endlessly grateful for your kindness.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
I want to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has donated and supported me so far. Your kindness and generosity have helped me stay afloat during an incredibly difficult time. I’m truly grateful for each donation, reblog, and kind message. You’ve reminded me that I’m not alone.
I still need help. Things are still very unstable and I’m doing everything I can to survive and take care of myself. If you are able to donate again or share this, it would mean so much. Every little bit helps me afford food, shelter, and the basics I need to keep going.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
Thank you for being here. Your support means more than I can put into words.
June is here. Pride Month is a time to celebrate love, identity, and the courage to live authentically. For many, it means joy and freedom. But for people like me, it is a reminder of the risks we take just to exist.
I am a queer Ugandan who had to flee my country because of who I am. Being LGBTQ+ in Uganda is dangerous. I escaped to Kenya hoping for safety, but the threats followed me. I was forced to run again. Now I live in fear, without legal protection, without support, and without a safe place to call home.
Pride Month is not just about rainbows. It is about visibility, resistance, and survival. It is about remembering that so many of us are still fighting every single day. For people like me, Pride is a lifeline.
That is why I need your help. Your donation can mean food, shelter, medicine, or even just a safe place to sleep. Every single contribution makes a real difference in my life.
If you believe in what Pride stands for, freedom, dignity, and equality. please donate. Share this post. Let others know that we are still here and that we still need you.
This Pride, let your support be louder than hate. Help me live with pride.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
This Pride Month, I'm reaching out to kindly ask for your support. Things have been really tough lately, and I'm in need of help with food. If you're able to lend a hand, even in a small way, it would mean so much.
The situation where I am has become extremely difficult due to an ongoing internal war. The conflict has caused food prices to skyrocket, and right now, I don’t have anything left to eat.
I’ve been trying to hold on, but things have become unbearable. Every day is a struggle just to get through. I am reaching out to you—my queer family, friends, and allies—because I believe in the power of community. If you can spare even a small amount, it could make a big difference.
This is an urgent plea. I need support to buy food and get through these hard days. If you’ve ever been hungry, you know how deeply painful and exhausting it can be. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical.
Please, if you can, donate. No amount is too small. Every little bit helps, and I would be endlessly grateful for your kindness.
My name is Caitlin and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of Kavuma Abdallah, who reached out to me on social media. He is a gay Ugan
