Pride is more than a parade — the importance of queer freedom

The Pride gatherings that will be happening across South Africa will commemorate the historic march of 13 October 1990 in Johannesburg, when LGBTQIA+ people challenged the discriminatory laws and social order of apartheid. Their protest was an assertion of queer existence and a demand for a more just society. 

The significance of that march must not be lost as Pride celebrations grow. The rights LGBTQIA+ people enjoy today were fought for and must continue to be defended. For a teenager unable to express their identity for fear of being disowned by their family or bullied at school, Pride should represent more than a day of celebration. It should offer hope for a future in which they can live openly and safely without having to choose between their identity and belonging. 

South Africa’s Constitution guarantees equality and dignity and prohibits unfair discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation. Furthermore, in 2006, South Africa became the first African country to legalise gay marriage. However, the lived experiences of many queer people remain far removed from these constitutional promises. Legal recognition has not eliminated homophobia; it has shifted much of the struggle to the spaces in which people live, learn and seek acceptance. 

LGBTQIA+ learners continue to experience bullying and hostility, including from those entrusted with their care. Some young people are rejected by their families, losing the emotional and financial support they need. For some, this rejection leads to homelessness. Others remain in abusive households or relationships because leaving would mean losing their homes and support networks. 

On social media, deliberate misgendering of non-binary people is often dismissed as harmless disagreement. Yet, repeatedly denying people the right to identify themselves on their own terms reinforces the message that their identities do not deserve respect. Harmful conduct does not have to meet the legal threshold for hate speech to be degrading and exclusionary. 

Persecution

LGBTQIA+ people seeking asylum in South Africa after fleeing persecution in their countries of origin face further challenges, including xenophobia. People seeking protection must encounter fair processes and officials who perform their duties without allowing personal prejudice to influence their decisions. When those entrusted with providing protection become another source of exclusion, the very systems intended to safeguard vulnerable people can deepen their insecurity. 

These challenges may be exacerbated by the regional initiatives that raise concerns about LGBTQIA+ rights. The proposed Draft African Charter on Family, Sovereignty and Values, advanced through an interparliamentary conference, frames sexual and reproductive rights as a threat to the African family. Such arguments risk legitimising existing homophobia and encouraging further restrictions on queer people’s rights. South Africa did not support the proposal, citing its inconsistency with the Constitution and regional and international legal principles. If such initiatives gain wider political traction, they threaten to roll back regional human rights protections. 

South Africa has a constitutional framework that recognises rights still contested elsewhere. But recognition should not be mistaken for realisation. Rights on paper mean little to a learner who is bullied, a teenager who is disowned, a person denied shelter because of their identity, or an asylum seeker who encounters prejudice while seeking protection. 

Homophobia also intersects with socioeconomic inequality. People without financial resources may be unable to secure alternative accommodation, access support or leave unsafe environments. Public discourse can reinforce these inequalities, with poorer queer people subjected to ridicule while those with greater social or economic status may receive conditional acceptance. Homophobia does not operate in isolation from poverty; inequality deepens vulnerability and limits the options available to those affected. 

The burden of challenging prejudice should not fall solely on those who experience it. Families, schools, communities, public institutions and government must confront the practices that allow discrimination to persist. 

Perhaps one day, queer people will attend Pride marches without fearing for their safety. No learner will be bullied for their identity, no teenager will lose their home because of who they are, and no person will have to fight for their identity to be respected or to access safe accommodation. Until then, Pride must remain both a celebration of how far the struggle has come and a reminder of how much remains to be done. DM