The landscape of LGBTQ activism is being reshaped on two opposite continents this year. In the United States, a coalition of queer advocates has turned protest into performance, demanding stricter gun laws after a series of mass shootings. Half a world away, Senegal has hardened its penal code, leading to an unprecedented wave of arrests, forced HIV testing, and a climate of fear for anyone identified as LGBTQ. Though the settings differ—one a bustling film festival, the other a series of police raids—the underlying struggle remains the same: the right to exist without the shadow of violence or criminalisation.
The birth of Gays Against Guns and its cinematic portrait
Director Paul Rowley, an Irish immigrant who arrived in America with an outsider’s eye, spent several years filming the group known as Gays Against Guns (GAG). The organisation emerged in the wake of the 2016 Pulse nightclub massacre, a tragedy that underscored how gun violence can strike at the very heart of queer safe spaces. Rowley’s documentary, screened at NewFest38, follows the activists from street rallies to private moments of grief, offering an unflinching view of their determination to keep the gun-control debate alive.
Theatre as protest: costumes, humor, and disruption
What separates GAG from more traditional advocacy groups is its embrace of political theatre. Members dress in flamboyant outfits, wield oversized replica weapons, and stage flash-mob demonstrations in venues that often reject their presence. These actions can appear absurd or even comedic, but Rowley captures the intention behind the spectacle: to make a society that has become numb to shootings unable to look away. The film lets viewers hear the anguish of co-founder John Grauwiler, who describes how mass shootings have seeped into every layer of his identity, from his former career as a teacher to his personal sense of safety.
Senegal’s tightened penal code and the surge in LGBTQ arrests
On 11 March, Senegal’s parliament amended its penal code, doubling the maximum prison sentence for consensual same-sex relations to ten years and adding fines of up to five million CFA francs for anyone who “promotes” homosexuality. The new provisions also criminalise the financing of LGBTQ organisations. Within months, more than 320 people have been detained on accusations of “acts against nature”, and at least 84 individuals face charges of “voluntary HIV transmission” solely based on their serostatus. The crackdown has turned ordinary clinics into sites of suspicion, as health workers report a sharp decline in patients seeking HIV testing.
Legal intimidation and the erosion of health services
The revised code has chilled the legal profession; many lawyers now refuse cases involving LGBTQ defendants for fear of being prosecuted themselves. Doctors, too, warn that the atmosphere of surveillance discourages people from accessing life-saving treatment. Sylvie Beaumont of the HIV Justice Network notes that clinics are seeing fewer visits, a trend that threatens Senegal’s recent successes in reducing new HIV infections. The combined effect is a dual punishment: individuals are targeted for their sexual orientation while simultaneously being denied essential medical care.
Human impact and a broader regional trend
Interviews with those directly affected reveal a community living in constant anxiety. Some have fled the country, others hide in their homes, and many limit their movements to avoid police raids. The pattern mirrors recent legislative shifts in neighboring states—Niger, Mali, Burkina Faso, Ghana, and Uganda—where anti-LGBTQ statutes have either been introduced or hardened in the past two years. Human Rights observers argue that these measures violate internationally recognised guarantees of a fair trial, privacy, and non-discrimination, yet governments continue to justify them as protecting “national values”.
Both the American documentary and Senegal’s legal crackdown highlight how the fight for queer rights can take wildly different forms—creative protest on one side, punitive legislation on the other—yet share a common denominator: the struggle to be heard in societies where violence, whether from firearms or the law, is normalized. As the world watches the NewFest38 screening and the international community monitors Senegal’s human-rights record, the message is clear: silence is no longer an option for LGBTQ activists, no matter the stage.
