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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 7, 2000)
January 7*2000» by O riana G reen I magine that you live in a society so repressive that you are unable to live .. ............... openly as a sexual minority. What would you be willing to relinquish for that freedom? Your family? Your cul tural identity? Your religion? Your country? Your citizenship? Meet Kahunya Wario, who has sacrificed it all in a lifelong struggle to live openly as a gay man. For that liberty he has surrendered every thing that he once held dear, everything that once defined him, everything that ever mat tered to him. Except the truth of who he is. A t 35, Wario is a model citizen. He is high ly educated, well-spoken and articulate, shy yet charming, and one of the most sincere, well-grounded human beings one could ever be privileged to meet. He is tall and slim, just the kind of handsome man any guy would be proud to take home to his family. Yet Kahunya Wario is no longer welcome in his country of birth, Kenya. After his stu dent visas expired, and after years of dodging the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Ser vice, in June of 1999 Wario became one of the first Kenyans to be granted political asylum in the United States simply because he is gay. If he were to return to Kenya, he would face the possibility of public flogging and 14 years in prison doing hard labor. So Wario has chosen Portland as his adopted home and is gradually rebuilding a life for himself here. But what a price he has paid, and what a journey he has made. In his Portland apartment, Kahunya Wario wears a shirt given to him by his mother television program with his family about a male couple and their union ceremony. “The adults were all saying such decadent behavior was a sign of the end times,” he says. Wario laughs now thinking about it, but at the time it was ingrained into his psyche that those two men had already fallen into the abyss, “lost souls forever in a place of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.” A s much as W arios story is about his sexuality, it is also about his spirituality, the quest to discover his truth about both and, ultimately, how to integrate these two aspects of his life. \>CTien W arios father was bom in 1925, Kenya was still a land of many chiefdoms with no central African government, though the British had long since sent the missionaries and plenipotentiaries who began the colonization process. In fact, his father was bom at a missionary station to par ents who had already been converted to Christianity. O f Warios extended family, only his mothers grandmother resisted conversion. “When I was a kid, up until puberty, I believed what I was told,” Wario explains, adding, “Growing up in a religious family you always know how far you can go before falling into the spiritual abyss.” Then a small miracle happened. When Wario was 5 years old, his family moved to the United States for six years so his father could attend a seminary and intern as a minister, The family moved around a lot, which helped Wario become very adaptable, used to being not just the new kid, but also the one He remembers when he was 7 watching a from Africa. The exposure to Western culture during those impressionable years made its mark on him •he family returned to Kijabe, Kenya, on Warios 11th birthday, his father an ordained evangelical minister of the African Inland Church. “More Billy Graham, not quite a Falwell fundie,” Wario says, though it’s clear he believes the Chris tianizing of Africa is a great calamity. He says that throughout Africa the people were “sold a very different brand of Christian ity— unintellectual— all about emotions and preying on poverty. The allure is technology first; the Christianity came later.” Wario explains how his people were seduced with education in mission schools, then electricity and antibiotics, and how they viewed the foreigners: “These people must have very powerful gods." After he returned to Africa, some class mates mistook him for a girl, Wario remembers. Additionally, he was one of the few students with English as their primary language. “I felt very odd, and I began cultivating an African accent to fit in,” he says. Wario also feared he was odd for another reason. “I absolutely knew at age 9 I was different,” he says emphatically. “I was attracted to boys, and I knew it wasn’t OK." During puberty he heard the word faggot flung at him, and he became very anxious, believing his body was betraying him. “Does it show? Is it something I’m doing?” he wondered. For his secondary education Wario was sent to a remote missionary-run boarding school, and from then on he saw his family only spo radically. In that strict school environment he was able to avoid pressures to be sexual with girls. Continued on Page 25 PHOTO BY MARGO GIRARD A gay man’s journey from Kenya to the United States, from prejudice and fear to acceptance and pride 23