On a bustling Dakar thoroughfare, “K.” appears indistinguishable from other pedestrians. He walks swiftly, phone in hand, exchanging greetings with acquaintances. Superficially, nothing seems amiss. Yet, every movement is calculated. “Here, one must know how to protect oneself,” he confides.

A French national among recent arrests

While his incarceration dates back to February 14, details have only recently emerged. A French citizen, approximately thirty years old and residing in Dakar, was apprehended during a series of arrests targeting individuals suspected of homosexuality.

He faces charges including “acts against nature,” criminal association, money laundering, and attempted HIV transmission.

This arrest coincided with ongoing parliamentary discussions for a new law, which was subsequently passed in early March. This legislation now imposes prison sentences of five to ten years for homosexual relations. The move is part of an “increased repression” trend, with dozens of arrests reportedly occurring daily since the law’s adoption, significantly impacting Sahel politics today.

Paris has responded by reiterating its commitment to the universal decriminalization of homosexuality and its support for individuals facing discrimination under Senegal’s new law. French diplomatic sources confirm that the French Embassy in Dakar is closely monitoring the situation and that consular officials have visited the detained citizen.

K. is a gay man. In a nation where homophobia is deeply ingrained, simply existing without fear is a profound challenge.

In Senegal, resistance doesn’t always manifest through slogans or public demonstrations. More often, it unfolds in subtle ways: barely perceptible gestures, in what is said, and crucially, in what remains unspoken.

In his neighborhood, K. has mastered the art of reading between the lines – the silences, the glances, the unspoken implications. “You quickly learn what you can or cannot express.” Like many, he adapts, he navigates. One life is lived publicly, another privately. Homosexuality is largely associated with social discredit, and its repercussions are undeniably tangible.

In a discreet Dakar apartment, “M.” speaks in hushed tones, reflexively glancing towards the door. “Here, constant vigilance is essential.” His narrative is far from unique; indeed, that is precisely the problem.

“She will not judge”

M.’s daily life is a tapestry of precautions. At work, certain topics are scrupulously avoided. Within his family, he maintains a carefully constructed persona. “I know what I can reveal and to whom.” This intricate social choreography has become second nature.

Yet, in more secure, private settings, dialogue flows freely. Groups gather, discussing shared experiences, advocating for rights, justice, and dignity. These conversations aren’t always overt, but they are potent enough to foster a sense of solidarity and endurance.

For M., resistance is not spectacular. It resides in a simple refusal: to consider his own life as illegitimate.

Awa, a nurse, is not directly impacted by these laws. However, in her health center, she has made a resolute decision: she will not judge. “I’ve encountered patients who no longer dared to seek care,” she explains. Some arrive too late; others withhold crucial information, complicating their treatment. This situation highlights a pressing issue within West Africa Sahel health services.

Consequently, she adapts her approach. She listens intently, choosing her words with care. On the surface, it may seem minor, but at times, it proves decisive. She doesn’t identify as an activist, yet in the current climate, her compassionate stance is profoundly impactful.

In another district, “I.” vividly recalls a neighbor accused of homosexuality. Swiftly, rumors intensified, followed by escalating violence: insults, threats, and social ostracism. He understood:

“I realized that it could happen to anyone.”
Since then, he remains wary. But more than that, he listens differently. And occasionally, he intervenes with a subtle remark or a probing question. Nothing confrontational. It may seem insignificant, but it is a start.

Resistance in the interstices

Aminata, a university student, is not directly affected, but she refuses to remain silent. One day, confronted with hateful remarks, she responded calmly. “I stated that everyone should be free to live their own life.” The ensuing silence left a lasting impression. “It caused discomfort.” Such moments don’t revolutionize everything, but they create discernible cracks in prevailing attitudes.

The esteemed writer Fatou Diome frequently reminds us that societies are never static; they evolve, sometimes slowly, sometimes through quiet shifts. To think for oneself, she posits, remains a profound act of courage.

Similarly, Mohamed Mbougar Sarr, the Senegalese writer and 2021 Goncourt Prize laureate, perceives literature as a vital space for freedom. It is a realm where certainties can waver and dominant narratives can be critically examined.

Resistance here does not always adopt an organized form. It subtly permeates the interstices of daily existence: within professional practices, through friendships, and even in silences. Some actively choose not to propagate hatred. Others offer protection, lend an ear, or provide support. These are not grand, dramatic acts. Yet, these gestures hold significant weight. They open up spaces – fragile, perhaps, but undeniably real.

At its core, the principle is straightforward: every individual merits dignity and respect. While this appears self-evident, it is not always upheld. Resisting homophobia in Senegal often means accepting discomfort, navigating against the prevailing current, sometimes discreetly, at times almost invisibly.

K., M., Awa, Aminata, I., and countless others may not necessarily claim the title of activist. Nevertheless, their choices carry considerable influence. Slowly, steadily, they are shifting the boundaries. Courage, in this context, is not spectacular; it is a daily, and often silent, endeavor.