https://archives.rainbowhistory.org/files/original/468d54c0c4636454430177e59b5fa6d3.pdf 1e5d665fc9e8db96b1922313eb78b25d PDF Text Text 11/14/2014 Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko – Metro Weekly Home / Features / Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko From Asylum to American By Will O'Bryan July 3, 2013 The first time Kushaba Moses Mworeko went to Texas, it changed his life. It was October 2009, and his first trip to the United States. He’d come all the way from Uganda to participate in an HIV/AIDS conference on South Padre Island. At least, that was the official reason. As legislators back home drafted a bill to make the already anti-gay nation more so – proposing the death penalty for ”aggravated homosexuality” – Mworeko made plans of his own. As a gay man, he had decided to ask the United States for asylum. A winding, asylum-seeking path took Mworeko to D.C., where he landed three months later, on his 31st birthday, Feb. 1, 2010. This July 4, however, finds Mworeko back in Texas. Specifically, Mworeko is at Fort Sam Houston completing his National Guard training as a combat medic. In June, that training even included some LGBT pride. ”We had a briefing on what Pride is,” Mworeko reported by phone from the base. ”We got a message from the president talking about Pride month. They actually talked about Frank Kameny, his history, how he fought for his rights and how the government finally apologized.” Mworeko seems particularly proud at the inclusion of Kameny. After all, the late gay-rights pioneer hails from Mworeko’s new hometown. After training, he heads back to D.C., enjoying his new identities as both an American and a Washingtonian. ”I love Washington, D.C.,” Mworeko says with one of his signature laughs, a smile you can practically hear over the phone. ”It’s home. It’s taken care of me. Washingtonians have sheltered me. I can never thank Washingtonians enough.” Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko It would be hard not to think of Mworeko’s new service to his new country as plenty of thanks. And while Mworeko feels certain he would be in a career helping people – with plans to earn a master’s degree in social work when he returns from Texas – wherever he may have ended up, he says it is important to him that he came to America. Had that 2009 conference been in Canada or the U.K, for example, Mworeko says he would’ve pushed to get to the U.S. Some of that stems from his interactions with Americans when he did contract work in Iraq – an experience that’s made him feel right at home in the National Guard. ”By going to Iraq, what I saw really influenced my goal of being in the military and helping people,” he shares. ”If I was in another country, I would probably still be pursuing my goal of helping people, but I would’ve still wanted to be American. ”When I talk to my instructors about my Iraq experience, they tend to look at me differently. They know, because I was there, that I know what happens there. I have an idea. So when they’re talking about the experience to trainees about what happens in a war zone and how people are supposed to conduct themselves, all that stuff, they know that I know because I was there. That sets me apart.” Mworeko jokes that his accent also sets him apart, but it seems he wouldn’t have it any other way. http://www.metroweekly.com/2013/07/spc-kushaba-moses-mworeko/ 1/2 �11/14/2014 Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko – Metro Weekly ”I don’t think my accent will ever change,” he says playfully. ”My mother languages determine how I’m going to be speaking. I talk to my brothers in my native language, so it’s difficult for me to change my accent. But I like my accent. It makes me different. And America is full of people from around the world, so this makes me a good American.” As Mworeko takes pride in the unique qualities he adds to the American ”melting pot,” he also speaks with enthusiasm about his role in the military, of being part of a team charged with defending the Constitution, the nation’s democratically elected government, and his fellow Americans. And as Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko spends the Fourth of July marking his last day of two weeks of field training – ”The fireworks will be there! It’s the military.” – it would be hard to argue that the U.S. made a mistake opening its doors to him. ”We’ve been raised differently, with different backgrounds, but the moment we put on that uniform, we are all the same,” says Mworeko, a bit more seriously. ”Whether you’re from Uganda or you are born here, when you put on that uniform you are the same. You are not going to help your friends because you are white or you are brown or you are black. You are going to help your friends all the same way. It’s one mission. ”We talk about ‘We the people.’ I’m part and parcel the ‘We.’ I am American. I am a patriot. I raised my hand to serve my country. This is my country. This is the country that’s given me protection, that’s given me the peace that I have. I am privileged.” Adam Ebbin: A Leading Legislator Spc. Kushaba Moses Mworeko: From Asylum to American Kiva Wilson: The Peaceful Patriot Follow Will O'Bryan on Twitter @wobryan. Like 0 Please Leave a Comment Add a comment... Also post on Facebook Posting as Vincent Slatt (Not you?) Comment Facebook social plugin http://www.metroweekly.com/2013/07/spc-kushaba-moses-mworeko/ 2/2 � https://archives.rainbowhistory.org/files/original/aec1e1e1fea5c8c114c6890a8b0038d1.pdf 0ac93bf0e82b59c0c13236d4b3c687b5 PDF Text Text 11/14/2014 New Neighbor – Metro Weekly Home / News + Politics / New Neighbor New Neighbor Gay Ugandan living in D.C. wins asylum in the U.S. by Will O’Bryan May 26, 2011 While the ongoing uncertainty of Uganda’s ”kill the gays” bill – a for-now tabled proposal to radically reinforce Ugandan law, which already criminalizes homosexuality – has Ugandan gays and lesbians fearing for their futures, one gay Ugandan is finally breathing easy. Earlier this month, Kushaba Moses Mworeko, received his official notice that the United States has granted his request for asylum. ”The letter says I have asylum status indefinitely,” says Mworeko, who arrived in the U.S. from Uganda in October 2009. ”After one year, I have to apply for permanent residency.” Coming to the U.S. for an HIV/AIDS conference in Texas, Mworeko knew he would try to stay in America. That determination, aside from prompting his asylum request, brought him to D.C. where he helped Truth Wins Out and the Human Rights Campaign protest the 2010 National Prayer Breakfast. The breakfast organizers, The Fellowship, aka The Family, have reportedly fueled Uganda’s homophobic fires. Initially, the Ugandan parliamentarian who authored the ”kill the gays” bill, David Bahati, had even been invited to the breakfast. From D.C., Mworeko moved to the San Francisco Bay area to work with another attorney. But with strong indications that his case would reach a successful conclusion, Mworeko returned to D.C. in March. ”I love Washington,” Mworeko says, adding that he hopes to one day visit Uganda without danger. ”This is my home. I will go to school. I will get a job and start working. I want to do a master’s of social work with a concentration in mental health and substance abuse. I feel that’s where I can make a difference.” He’s already making a difference by working with Get Equal to challenge The Family. To that end, he’s contributing to the ”Venus Plus X” organization’s blog with the component ”Global Sexual Freedom Rights.” Kushaba Moses Mworeko (Photo by Todd Franson) In the meantime, Mworeko is excited to celebrate his second Capital Pride, and notes the contrast between his old home and new in the Capital Pride Parade. ”The encouragement from these leaders – the congresswoman, the police, all these people – being in the front and leading is awesome.” Follow Will O'Bryan on Twitter @wobryan. Like 0 Please Leave a Comment http://www.metroweekly.com/2011/05/new-neighbor/ 1/2 �11/14/2014 New Neighbor – Metro Weekly Add a comment... Also post on Facebook Posting as Vincent Slatt (Not you?) Comment Facebook social plugin http://www.metroweekly.com/2011/05/new-neighbor/ 2/2 � https://archives.rainbowhistory.org/files/original/607b5d2c8aa30d595a1282b5b6771c8d.pdf 10d9b63bda62ff2e7e8f2d12113591d4 PDF Text Text 11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly Home / Features / The Promised Land The Promised Land Kushaba Moses Mworeko left Uganda to seek asylum in America, but now he's living in limbo by Will O'Bryan July 28, 2010 Ugandan politics took a sad walk onto the world stage at the end of 2009, when David Bahati, a member of Parliament, introduced a bill to gruesomely enhance his country’s existing laws against gay people – making it a crime not to report gays, and going so far as to call for the execution of gays in some circumstances. The death penalty provisions have not become law, but Uganda remains hostile territory. Kushaba Moses Mworeko, a 31-year-old Ugandan, knows that firsthand. In October 2009, the same month Bahati introduced his bill, Mworeko, who usually goes by Moses, made his first trip to the United States. While the official purpose of his trip was to participate in an HIV/AIDS conference on South Padre Island, Texas, Mworeko already had hopes of finding a U.S. port to shelter him from the homophobic storm back in Uganda. ”You are subjected to police arrests and torture, and sometimes these people die in jail,” Mworeko says of the situation for gays in Uganda. ”Unexpected house searches sometimes lead to bribes to protect oneself from being exposed by the media.” Mworeko’s visa expired in November, but he has remained. From Texas, he came to D.C., where he participated in a press conference organized by the Human Rights Campaign, Truth Wins Out and others to oppose February’s National Prayer Breakfast. Organizers of that annual breakfast, ”The Fellowship” (aka ”The Family”), are reported to have ties to Bahati and other homophobic elements in Uganda. Bahati was even initially invited to the breakfast. That conference and other efforts helped draw attention to the plight of gays in Uganda, leading President Obama to use the breakfast as a platform to criticize Bahati’s bill as odious. While the furor over Bahati’s bill has died down, Uganda remains one of the world’s most inhospitable countries for gays and lesbians. But it’s not alien. Actually, it’s much like America of just a few decades ago. Kushaba Moses Mworeko (Photo by Todd Franson) ”Americans struggled with gay rights for a long time,” Mworeko points out. ”I know it was very hard at the beginning. The way it was very hard for Americans at the beginning, it is very hard, very difficult for Ugandans, and Africans in general.” What is very different, however, is that when American gays of the mid 20th century were taking their first swipes at oppression, there were not other countries recognizing gays as an oppressed minority and offering them asylum. Today, America is one of those countries that does. Whether or not it will offer safe haven to Mworeko remains to be seen. METRO WEEKLY: How long have you been in Washington? KUSHABA MOSES MWOREKO: My birthday was the first day I was here in D.C., Feb. 1. MW: Was that a good birthday present? MWOREKO: Yeah, I think it was. [Laughs.] MW: I know you came from Uganda, but is that where you were born? MWOREKO: Yes. I’m from a district called Bushenyi in the southwestern part of Uganda. The village is Kagonge. I lived there until I was 20. I did not live in the village where I was born, but I went to boarding school in the district. I went when I was 7. All my life I was in http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 1/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly boarding school. MW: What was your childhood like? MWOREKO: My childhood was good. I was from a well-to-do family. My dad used to live in town, in Ishaka, and I would stay with my dad. It was fun, although at times I used to miss the country life. Cows, gardening…. MW: And your relationship with your parents? MWOREKO: My parents passed. My dad died when I was finishing elementary school. My mom died when I was 15, in junior school. MW: They were victims of the AIDS pandemic? MWOREKO: Yeah. And I have two brothers and three sisters. I am the firstborn. MW: So you became – MWOREKO: The head of the family. The others were between 9 and 14. The oldest were responsible for the house, for working. The others were just kids. My dad was rich. He had some businesses in town. When he died, everything shut down. Everything stopped. My mom was a housewife and she lived in the village. I made sure that when it was time for holidays, we would all go back to our house and do gardening, prepare crops. Other times, everyone would be at school. MW: For a 15-year-old boy, the challenges of raising your family must have been overwhelming. MWOREKO: Definitely. I didn’t see myself as head of the family. ”Moses, what do we do?” ”Moses, what about fees?” And I had to look for people to take care of the kids when I was not there. Whenever it was time to go back to school, I would send them to those uncles who would help them during school time. When they would come back for holidays, we would be in our house, just alone. MW: Was this also the time you began to think you might be gay? MWOREKO: Actually, even before my parents died, they knew I was gay. It was known at my elementary school. At first, people could tell because of my behavior. Then, at school, with the boys I used to live with in the dormitory, there was a guy. We came from the same village, we went to the same school, we were studying in the same class and sitting at the same table. There was attraction between us. We started having sex, and that spread in the boys’ dormitory. MW: News that you were having sex spread? MWOREKO: No, the kids started having sex. We were young. It was experimental. Of course, I definitely had those feelings. All that spread through the dormitory of like 40 people. What happened, I think, is that one of the boys did not like it and was forced to do it. There was a conflict between him and the one who was imposing it on him. They fought, and that’s when the news came out and the teachers found out. They said, ”Okay, who has done it?” We were all rounded together and beaten, punished. Because it started with me and my friend, it all came to us. They had to send for our parents and it was nasty. My dad was furious. Of course, he had to punch me before the teachers. Then when I went home for the holidays, they had to beat me. I mean, the firstborn – ”You are shaming us. This can’t happen to us, to our family.” After my parents passed, during high school, I was free. Although, in my high school I was being helped by my guardian, an Anglican priest, who decided to help me with my education. I remained in the closet because of that. MW: Did you meet this man through church? MWOREKO: He was a friend of my dad. They went to school together. He was a family friend. I went to university after high school, but I waited for like three years because I didn’t have the money for university. I did a lot of work to take care of my siblings. I taught at a junior high school. Then I worked in a taxi. Then I learned how do to do hairdressing. MW: Here, the cliché is that if a man is a hairdresser, he’s probably gay. Was that the perception in Uganda? MWOREKO: Yeah, that’s how they thought of it. I was braiding hair. That is a ”woman’s job.” But they liked my service. I enjoyed it, but http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 2/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly I didn’t want to keep doing it. I still had my dream of going out to help people who are so disadvantaged. I really wanted to go to university and get the resources, that body of knowledge, I needed to help. MW: And when you eventually got to university, what was the environment like? MWOREKO: I started in 2002, studying social work and social administration at Uganda Christian University in Mukono, 20 miles from Kampala. The person paying my fees was my guardian, the priest. And this was a Christian university, so my social life wasn’t all that. When I started university, the Internet wasn’t there – just a few people accessed it. But toward the end, by graduation, the Internet had come. We had [gay] websites to go to. The Internet exposed me more to this. That was 2004, 2005. MW: Was there anything like gay bars in Kampala? MWOREKO: No. Absolutely not. Even if gay people went somewhere, you would not tell, you would not know. But I met some gay people through the Internet. I got in touch with people who started the gay websites, other Ugandans. MW: It was an e-mail with one of those friends that put you in jeopardy? MWOREKO: Yes. That was when I was already working. After I graduated, I was given a job at that very university. I was teaching. And my guardian’s office was in that university. He was the director of a church program: Theological Education by Extension. That’s the time I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted. I lived in my own house. I was free. I felt like I could do whatever I wanted to do. MW: Did you have any reason to think your guardian might have suspected you of being gay? MWOREKO: No. People would comment on my behavior, my lifestyle, and it would just stop at that. But this one day, I was in his office accessing the Internet. I was communicating with my boyfriend. My guardian called for me abruptly while I was in his secretary’s office. I knew I was coming right back, but as soon as I went to his office, the secretary came in. She read my mail. When I came back, she said, ”Moses, were you the one on my computer?” I said yes. ”What’s this?” she asked. ”What?” ”What’s this?” ”Well, what do you think it is? And what’s the problem?” MW: This secretary, did you know her very well? MWOREKO: I did. She had worked for my guardian for many years. She was my friend. I was part of that group who worked in that office. But when she saw this, it ended with her intimidating me and threatening to report me to my guardian. Of course, she knew the consequences if she reported me to my guardian or to the school officials. By then, I was also a student. After I’d earned my bachelor’s degree, I decided to enroll for my master’s in public health. So I was teaching and a student at the same time. The rules and regulations were so clear about homosexuality. The moment they get you, you are expelled from school. If you are an administrator or staff, then your services are terminated. MW: Would they inform they police? MWOREKO: No, they would just expel you. Just get rid of you. MW: Did she tell your guardian? MWOREKO: She did not tell my guardian, but she did tell the dean of students. I happened to go to junior school with the dean of students. She knew who I was. We used to talk and joke. She called me to her office and she said, ”Moses, you have a problem.” ”What problem?” ”No, you have a problem.” http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 3/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly ”No, I don’t have any problem.” MW: When she called you to her office, did you know it was for the accusation that you were gay? MWOREKO: No, I did not know. I thought it was for our usual conversations we would have. But with her tone, the way she spoke, I thought, ”This must be something different.” All of a sudden, of course, my mind went to that. Then she said, ”You need to confess and we have to have some counseling for you.” I said, ”I have nothing to confess, and I don’t need any counseling because I don’t have any problem.” MW: Were you frightened? MWOREKO: Definitely. I was thinking of my job, my career. If I’m expelled, what next? It was going to be catastrophic. So I said I didn’t know anything. She said that if I didn’t confess to her so that she could put me on counseling, then she would report me to the administration. I think she was trying to put herself in a better position: If she didn’t confront me to confess and the school administration knew about it before she reported it, then she would be in trouble. But I denied everything. In the time since graduation, even before that, my guardians and aunties had started telling me, ”You have to get married, because you are the firstborn and you need to bring a wife who is going to be at home in the village.” So when all this was going on – reporting me to the administration – then the marriage issue also came in. It helped. I went to my guardian and I said, ”Okay, I think I need to get married.” MW: But to whom? MWOREKO: I had never seen her, but my guardian knew her dad. They went to school together in Kenya. He’s also an Anglican priest. They organized it. I saw the girl for the first time, and we talked. She was ready for marriage. My guardian called her and told her she would have a great responsibility if we got married: ”Moses is the head of that family and you will need to take care of those people.” She said, ”Fine, I have no problem with that.” MW: How long did all of this take? MWOREKO: It was just a short period of time. Everything was just happening – boom, boom, boom. [The dean] took about two months to report me. It was in bits, in just half a year. When the administration called me, I said I was not gay. The dean of students was given the task of following up the case. Then it was the counseling department. I kept reporting to those people, so there was no way they could terminate my contract, because they had no proof. I expected her to submit [the e-mail] proof, but she did not. When it came out that I was to get married, I think she was like, ”No, let’s not….” MW: And you got married? MWOREKO: I did. MW: Were you hoping that the marriage would make all your problems disappear? MWOREKO: No. I absolutely did not have that in mind. Actually, my boyfriend told me, ”Moses, you cannot get married.” I said, ”Well, I am going to get married because of these reasons: I want my job, I want to continue studying, this pressure from my family, my students no longer respect me. I can’t keep on like this. I don’t want to die now. I need to have a stable mind. I need to do this.” So I went ahead and got married. MW: Was your boyfriend furious? MWOREKO: He wasn’t furious, because he knew what was going on. MW: How was married life? MWOREKO: We did not have sex. There was no arousal. MW: Did your wife know what was happening? MWOREKO: Before we got married, there was the church counseling. The priest said, ”You don’t have to have sex the first night or the second night. At times you are nervous. You don’t know each other. When things don’t work out, that’s okay.” http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 4/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly I knew what was going on, but I said, ”Okay, the priest told us this.” She had the hope that maybe things would work out. Unfortunately, things did not work out. I had to ask her, ”What do we do?” She had no idea. I came up with a suggestion. I told my boyfriend. He was a medical doctor. I told him about it and he said, ”Okay, both of you can contact me. If she is willing to accept you taking medication for arousal, fine.” We had a phone conversation with him, the three of us, and we agreed on that. MW: This doctor was your boyfriend, and your wife didn’t know? MWOREKO: She had no idea. But he worked in a good, international hospital. We’d gone there before our marriage for our HIV testing, but she had no idea who this person was. MW: Did this situation hurt your boyfriend? MWOREKO: He was hurt. But we got the medication and I used it and I was able to have sex with her. She was happy with me and got pregnant. We had a baby. He turned 2 years on the 16th of June. Mworeko (Photo by Todd Franson) But we never lived together. [My wife and I] worked in different places, about 200 miles apart, and it was too expensive to commute. And my son was born when I was not there. I was working in Iraq. MW: What were you doing in Iraq? MWOREKO: I went to work for the U.S. Army. The job was ”security specialist.” I took that on because, first of all, I wanted to get out of the country. I was so tired of the job at the university and all that was going on. I needed a break. I was no longer concentrating on my studies. I was so depressed. I just wanted to leave. MW: So Iraq was your vacation? MWOREKO: Iraq was my vacation. [Laughs.] I went to Iraq just to relax, and it helped me. After six months, I went back to Uganda and I got the job with the AIDS organization. MW: And that’s the job that brought you to America. What happened once you got here? MWOREKO: When I came, I had in mind that I wasn’t going back because of what was going on in Uganda. I have already told people, going to jail in Uganda for just one night, one would rather spend his whole life in jail here. I did not know any person here. Well, there were people I knew, had been in touch with, just friends. But I did not rely on them. I was going to Texas and they were in New York and Tennessee. I did not have a person to go to and say, ”Okay, I’m here. I need this.” So when I was in Texas, I looked for organizations that would help me. I came across Other Sheep. It’s part of the [Metropolitan Community Church]. I contacted the executive director and he responded positively. He lives in New York, but they have an Africa coordinator in Texas. He connected me to that person, who is from Kenya. He also got asylum here. We got in touch with him and I had to travel after the conference from South Padre Island to Dallas. In Dallas, I went to an organization called Human Rights Initiative (HRI). They referred me to Immigration Equality. He helped me get in touch with some other organizations that could help me, because I was not mentally well at the time. I had some problems. I had nightmares, all that. He took me to the Center for Survivors of Torture and I went through some counseling. I met a doctor there and he gave me some drugs. I still use those drugs. They help me. I don’t know how HRC and Truth Wins Out found out that there was a gay person in Texas who was trying to seek asylum, but they organized the press conference during that time that The Family was going to have its National Prayer Breakfast. HRC and Truth Wins Out, they contacted me. They took all the expense of bringing me up here so I could speak, and that’s how I ended up in D.C. After that, of course, they had paid for my return to Dallas, but I felt being in D.C. helped me. I met some people and they proved to be in positions to help me. I would have more opportunities here than in Dallas. That’s how I ended up staying. MW: At the time, the proposed ”kill the gays” bill in Uganda was big news here. How was it being debated back in Uganda? MWOREKO: Gay issues making headlines started in 1997. That’s when the media started saying, ”We need to expose these people that are shaming us, shaming the community,” and put names in the newspapers. They would put your name, the organization you http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 5/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly were working with. They would put where you live. The moment they put the organization, you are fired. When people know where you live, they chase you. It was crazy. That’s when things started becoming so bad. MW: Although President Museveni has been saying awful things about gay people for years, the climate today seems even worse. MWOREKO: The ”ex-gay” people and ”The Family” have gone to Uganda and they have said there is therapy for gays, meaning you can ”cure” that. And the Ugandan church believes them. But it was already there – it just helped turn the stone. A straight, indigenous person full of this Africanism says, ”Well, these people are coming to help us because this is a disease. And it’s a white-man’s disease. So if a white man comes to help us get rid of it, then it is fine.” In the ’80s, in the ’90s, no one talked about this. It’s not there, never exists. No one is looking for you. But because the president used to come here, travel around the world, hear gay people demonstrating for equal rights, he would come home and use them as examples: ”Can you imagine people, instead of fighting for education, they are just talking about homosexuality?” In ’96, ’97, many gay Ugandans started knowing each other, coming to groups, having parties, meeting. That’s when things started coming out and the media started talking about it and it caught people’s attention. ”What’s this? What’s happening?” Africans, in general, have their own culture. It is just an African way of life, of looking at things. It is family. My grandparents gave birth to 13 children. My uncle, he has four women and I don’t even know the number of children. Everything is centered on family, family, family, children, children, children. I can give you an example: If I married and we had only girls, my family would advise me – not to divorce – to get another wife so that I can have a boy. That boy is looked at as a person who will continue the family. If you are gay, not having any kids, what is going to happen to you? When you die, you are dead. What happens to the family? It’s dead. MW: Where does your request for asylum stand? MWOREKO: On the 16th of June in Alexandria, that’s when I had the interview with the asylum officer. On the 29th of June I went back for the results. I went to the counter and she said, ”Sign here.” I said, ”What is it?” She said, ”Well, the officer did not grant you asylum. You are signing that you are going to appeal.” I asked what could be the reason. Of course, they were stated. One was like, ”material inconsistencies,” then ”lack of details.” And then, ”material implausabilities with regard to country conditions.” I signed the paper and I asked her about the material implausabilities, the conditions in the country. That’s when she said that maybe things aren’t bad in Uganda. But then she said, ”We have not denied you asylum. You still have the court to go to. You can still appeal.” There were other people there receiving the same news – no, no, no, no…. Because of what I have gone through in life, I know how to take care of myself in certain situations. That’s it for now. I accept the charges against me, that I am an alien and I am here illegally, all that stuff. And I will put my case before the judge why I am here illegally, why I decided to stay, and then we’ll request an appeal. MW: In the meantime, Bishop Rainey Cheeks is housing you? MWOREKO: Yes. I became friends with Rainey Cheeks the first day I came to D.C., even before the press conference. Some friends of mine organized a talk for me about what was going on in Uganda and that’s how we met. When I went back [to Dallas for my belongings], he’s the one who brought me back. MW: So now Bishop Cheeks is your guardian? MWOREKO: Yes, he is my guardian. MW: You have a history of strong religious people in your life. MWOREKO: And I am religious. MW: Do you go to Cheeks’s Inner Light Ministries? MWOREKO: I do. It’s a very good place. It incorporates today’s Christian way of life and African tradition. They mingle the two together and come up with something complete. As an African, I think it’s good. I feel a sense of belonging. It’s like a family. MW: Do you pray for asylum? MWOREKO: It’s my prayer. I have been religious my entire life. All that I have gone through, all my achievements, everything is because of God. I tend to put my hopes in him. http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 6/7 �11/14/2014 The Promised Land – Metro Weekly Follow Will O'Bryan on Twitter @wobryan. Please Leave a Comment http://www.metroweekly.com/2010/07/the-promised-land/ 7/7 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Rainbow History Project Oral History Collection Description An account of the resource Eye-witness accounts of what we’ve seen and experienced provide a valuable resource to researchers and future generations to understand our past and how we arrived where we are today. Each interview in this collection has a narrator telling the story and a documenter guiding the process. Collected since the founding of the RHP, this collection is growing and is open to researchers. All interviews have been digitized and are described in the catalog; only some of them have transcripts available. None of the interviews stream online. To obtain access to an interview, you must request by contacting us directly, providing a brief description of your project and your research interests. Our email address is: info AT rainbowhistory DOT org One of our team will share the file from our Google Drive, and you can listen from home. Please be sure to have "Music Player for Google Drive" enabled on your machine to play the recording. www.driveplayer.com Table Of Contents A list of subunits of the resource. To see all interviews in the collection, click on "Items in the Rainbow History Project Oral History Collection" link below. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Rainbow History Project Various narrators per oral history Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview. Elliott Wrenn Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed. Moses Mworeko Kushaba Location The location of the interview. Silver Spring, MD Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound. No, not yet transcribed Original Format If the image is of an object, state the type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Yes, recording available in two digital files. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oral history interview with Moses Mworeko Kushaba, 1979- Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 18 October 2014 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource No restrictions on access; no restrictions on use. Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant 1979-2014 Description An account of the resource <strong>LISTEN ONLINE</strong><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_rmd0YNI039dlVvOXZLcmI0OGM/view?usp=sharing&amp;resourcekey=0-Ru1r8psB0bBaLeHSKuOXSg" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Part 1 of 2</a><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_rmd0YNI039ZDJZMHFabFNTdUk/view?usp=sharing&amp;resourcekey=0-duLkGZxGJWTfgKblbE6H9g" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Part 2 of 2</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. Moses KUSHABA was born in Nyarweshama, Uganda, on February 01, 1979. In this RHP oral history Kushaba discussed his life growing up in Uganda, traveling to the United States, and subsequently applying for asylum in the US because of anti-gay legislation in his native Uganda. Kushaba describes his young life in a wealthy family in the Ugandan countryside and his life at day and boarding schools. Kushaba discusses sexual experimentation among school-aged children in both co-ed and all-boys schools, particularly the stigma attached to homosexuality and homosexual acts in years preceding anti-gay laws in Uganda. Kushaba describes an underground LGBT community during his secondary school, university, and graduate school years. Kushaba discusses the threat of losing his job in 2007 after being accused of being gay and his subsequent marriage and the birth of two children. Kushaba details his careers as a teacher, social worker, and HIV/AIDS activists in Uganda and as a military contractor in Iraq before attending an HIV/AIDS conference in South Parade Island, Texas, in 2009. Kushaba discusses his application for asylum after arriving in the United States and mentions organizations that provided assistance (e.g. Immigration Equality and the Other Sheep). During his asylum application Kushaba lived in Dallas, TX; Washington, DC; and San Francisco, CA. At the National Prayer Breakfast in 2009 (Washington, DC) Kushaba came out publically as a gay man and spoke about conditions for the LGBT community in Uganda. He discusses his LGBT media activism in the US (Metro Weekly and Sexual Freedom blog publications) and tabloid publications in Uganda (Red Pepper). Kushaba’s asylum application was approved in 2011 and he relocated to Washington, DC. At the time of the interview he lives in Langley Park, MD. Kushaba closes the interview discussing his service as a medic in the US National Guard (Washington, DC) and his wife and children’s immigration to the United States.