As a gay kid growing up in southeastern Nigeria, Uchechukwu Onwa was aware living in his queer identity made him a target for violence. Instead of hiding his truth, he has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community since his teenage years and continues that work after immigrating to the United States in 2017.

Onwa, 34, currently serves as the national civic engagement coordinator for the Black Alliance for Just Immigration. He also founded the Black Diaspora Liberty Initiative to focus specifically on LGBTQ+ immigrants issues. Although his advocacy in the U.S. looks different than it did in Nigeria, he said both are working toward building a world where LGBTQ+ people can thrive instead of just surviving. 

“Heterosexual Black immigrants mostly have their family here with them or support from back home,” Onwa said. The circumstances are often very different for LGBTQ+ immigrants. 

The U.S. government doesn’t publish data on the sexual identity or gender orientation of immigrants and asylum seekers; however, in 2021, the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law found that 98% of asylum claims based on LGBT status were found to have “credible or reasonable fear of persecution or torture.”

“Most of us here left our country because our country doesn’t want us,” Onwa said.

With the Black Diaspora Liberty Initiative, Onwa is focused on helping Black LGBTQ+ immigrants access resources and building bridges between the African American and the Black immigrant LGBTQ+ communities.

Earlier this month, in addition to its Pride celebrations, BDLI hosted a “Sunday Funday” brunch and panel discussion called “4 Corners 1 People.”

“We wanted to dispel misconceptions between different Black communities within the wider LGBTQ+ community,” Onwa said.

Panelists with African, Caribbean, African American, Latin American and European backgrounds speak about their experience living in the U.S. as a Black and LGBTQ+ person. (Duke Virginia/Black Diaspora Liberty Initiative)

Panelists with African, Caribbean, African American, Latin American and European backgrounds spoke about their experience living in the U.S. as a Black and LGBTQ+ person.

Patrick, one of the panelists talked about unlearning the stereotypes about other groups in the African diaspora that he had learned as a kid. He asked that his name be changed to protect his identity.

“It was and is widely believed that Black [people] in Europe have a better life and are more free than other Black [people] around the world, but nothing is further from the truth,” he said. “The liberalism that people believe exists in places like London and France [is] not extended to Black [people.]”

Born in London to Jamaican parents, Patrick understands many of the fears and challenges of Black immigrants from countries with anti-gay laws and culture. In Jamaica, anti-sodomy laws, still on the books from the island’s days as a British colony, punish homosexuality with up to 10 years in prison.

“I met Uche at a function and I was enthralled by his story and his journey. [I have] watched him turn that powerful negative into a positive, where he strives to help others in the same situation,” he said.

Audience members listen during the “4 Corners 1 People” discussion. (Duke Virginia/Black Diaspora Liberty Initiative)

At 15, Onwa’s life changed forever when his best friend was the victim of a violent sexual assault by multiple men and later died by suicide after testing positive for HIV as a result of the attack. He then began advocating for the LGBTQ+ community by documenting human rights abuses, increasing access to testing and treatment for HIV and helping people get on PrEP, a medication that can reduce a person’s risk of contracting HIV by 99%.

In 2014, when Onwa was 22, he was living in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital, having spent nearly a decade doing advocacy work, when then-President Goodluck Jonathan signed the Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act.

The law punishes people in same-sex marriages or civil unions with 14 years in prison, and people in “same-sex amorous relationships” with 10 years in prison. It also threatens anyone who operates, participates, or supports “gay clubs, societies, and organizations,” with a 10-year prison sentence.

Three years later, in 2017, Onwa sought asylum in the U.S based on his LGBTQ identity.

“I was scared when coming here because I had been hearing about [President Donald] Trump,” he said. “But I had been beaten up and dragged through the streets multiple times. I had multiple friends murdered for their identity and saw their families refuse to claim them or their bodies.”

Earlier this year, the Associated Press reported that the Trump administration had circumvented  judicial orders preventing LGBTQ+ asylum seekers from being deported to their home countries by having them deported to a third-country.

In America, Onwa continues the work he began as a grieving teenager, meeting Patrick along the way.

“To come to a strange land sometimes knowing no one can lead to the same loneliness and isolation as before,” Patrick said. 

Since moving to the U.S. in 2014, Patrick has worked to build a community of Black LGBTQ+ immigrants that can support and rely on one another.

“Certain places in the world dehumanize LGBTQ people to the point they want to seek out safety and freedom to live fully, and that means leaving their homes and family and for many that means loneliness and isolation,” he said. “That’s why it’s important we connect [with one another] so those feelings are lifted and they are given the strength they need to adjust.”

Madeline Thigpen is Capital B Atlanta's criminal justice reporter.