She sat at the popular café, chewing on her coffee stirrer, as she recounted the past without a quiver of doubt in her voice — her hair cut so short it could barley be tucked behind her ears.
“I realized I was a lesbian at the same time you realized you were straight. The time that you start actually liking people sexually, that’s when you realize you are different.”
Myrvete Bajrami spoke with confidence and conviction. Her dark eyes occasionally darted to the door of the café, but she never lowered her volume or let her tone waver.
“I never had problems with what I was. From the moment I read the word homosexual in a dictionary, and understood what it meant. I never asked why I was like this.”
Bajrami has devoted her life to promoting awareness and tolerance within Kosovo. She founded QESh, a non-governmental organization, in 2005 as a way to carry out the mission of creating a society characterized by diversity and respect — a society where all people regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity have equal rights, responsibilities and opportunities.
QESh is a group that stands at the forefront of the rights battle for lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transexuals (LGBT) in Kosovo. She has worked to promote and further the conversation in a public forum. However, Bajrami realizes where her words are powerless in the effort to change homophobic opinions.
“I refuse to go to any public discussion where there is a priest, Imam, or homophobe sitting over there. I am not here to be discussed if I am doing right or wrong, I am here to discuss if this is my right.”
She tapped her cigarette absentmindedly, letting the ashes fall as she continued on.
“I am not here for acceptance. Acceptance may never come. Homophobia is everywhere in the world and that will continue. I am here for respect. It is my right, and you will respect it or face consequences,” Bajrami explained “I am not here to discuss morals, or values because we have tried that and it will not work.”
In 2006, Bajrami made her first public appearance as an open lesbian and QESh representative. Promised that she would remain anonymous she decided to go on record, talking openly for the first time about her sexuality.
“It was the first time people spoke publicly about gays in Kosovo. They made sure that our voices would be changed and that we had a blanket in front of us, so we agreed to do it. There were some problems with the technician or they did it on purpose, god knows- but for a while our voices were not changed. A cousin of mine living in Switzerland was visiting another cousin of mine, and while they were changing channels he demanded my cousin to stop flipping because he heard my voice. He thought I was speaking about something good, and then he listened and realized. I can bet that they were ashamed. Someone from my family later told me that he saw me on TV and that I should be careful.”
Bajrami said that since 2006, she has been the victim of threats as well as emotional and mental attacks.
“I have never been physically attacked, which is good. I know people who have. I have received threats on the phone and over email that at some point it became nothing. You get used to it. “
She continued, smiling as if she were going to share a treasured secret.
“The moment I came out publicly, funny enough is when the threats stopped. They realized that I am able to fight for my rights, and I do not care what they think.”
Arben Fejza, Project Coordinator for The Center for Social Group Development, described the patriarchal nature of Kosovar society as one of the major factors holding back the LGBT community from progressing.
“Even though I am 100 percent sure my family knows, my parents and I have never talked about it even though they have seen me on TV giving interviews. They know but they don’t want to talk about it. You’re not free to speak with your family in detail about what kind of life you want and what type of lifestyle you prefer to live. There is this wall that we don’t break down. We don’t communicate freely about my life choice.”
There is a line drawn in society between the acceptance of sexuality and confronting the issue in the family home. A gay man in Pristina described his experience coming out to family, and chose to remain anonymous because he fears discrimination and physical harm.
“I have been threatened. For five years my family members have threatened me with death. They have beaten me, and harmed me psychologically. Before I came out accidentally, my family was supportive of the LGBT community. My sister had a lesbian friend, but once a faggot was in their home, that was a big issue. It was the moment sexuality became personal.”
Bajrami echoed this experience, recalling the fear of revealing her homosexuality to the family that she depended on, and the risk of losing the roof over her head.
“Here in Kosovo, the family is not just the parents, it is also cousins and aunts uncles. Coming out to your family is the hardest part because they are whom you depend on economically and emotionally. Being threatened that you will be out of money is a risk; Kosovo is not a state that will provide for you if you are left with nothing. Of course coming out to the family is the hardest part.”
According to a study done in 2013 by the Youth Initiative for Human Rights in partnership with CSGD, 52 percent of the 308 LGBT community members surveyed, responded to be living in fear of expressing their sexual orientation to their family.
Approved in May by the Assembly of Kosovo, the Law on the Protection from Discrimination (L-021) now includes transgender rights, protecting transgender community members from discrimination. Previously this law only included sexual orientation, making this additional a huge step for the LGBT community.
Visare Gorani Gashi, a human rights activist, said she wants to see the media give more space and time to rights of marginalized groups, and actively promote discussion across public forums.
Gashi compared the stigma applied to gays and lesbians in Kosovo to the plight of African Americans during the Civil Rights Movement in the United States.
“During the ‘50s in America, did anyone believe that there would be a black president?”
She continued, raising her eyebrows slightly above her bright purple sunglasses, lightly brushing her blonde bangs from her forehead.
“Our scope of view is limited to the 10,908 km that Kosovo is. Your reference point becomes your neighbor,” she said “Our biggest obstacle is the lack of travel and the need to widen views. I hope in 20 years that we won’t look at LGBT rights as a movement, but as a way of life.”
Lari Peltonen the First Secretary and Deputy Head of Mission at the Finnish Embassy attributes the stigma attached to the homosexuality to the patriarchal culture in Kosovo. Peltonen explained that condoning a same-sex partnership would be a strong deviation from the traditional family values that are a cornerstone of Kosovar society.
“We are in a vicious cycle. When the society is oppressive, you are afraid to be who you are-openly gay,” explained Peltonen, “There are no public figures who are openly gay. Many people know gay people, but they do not realize that they are gay. They hold a narrow image in their mind of what a gay person is, creating more intolerance.”
On March 17, Jennifer Bachus, Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassy in Kosovo, made supportive remarks at a political event held by Kosovo’s Center for Social Group Development. Her words echoed the sentiments of LGBT activists and government officials, that the fate of the issue lie in the hands of Kosovars.
“We are ready to work with the LGBTI community, but in the end it must be the people of Kosovo who lead the effort. This is an opportunity for Kosovo to demonstrate to the world that it is an inclusive and diverse society.”
For Bajrami, the next step Kosovars need to take in leading the effort for change is simple.
“We need to come out”
(Jainie Winter is a reporting intern at KosovaLive this summer in collaboration with Miami University in the United States.)
