Imprisoned gay Nigerian goes free, thanks to readers’ donations
Beaten unconscious by homophobic attackers, Sully was imprisoned because he couldn’t pay a $620 bribe.
In December of last year, Sully, a 24-year-old man from southern Nigeria, became another casualty of the country’s hostility toward queer people. What began as a simple Facebook chat with someone who seemed friendly ended in humiliation, pain, and a police cell.
Sully (a pseudonym for his protection) had grown up with loneliness. His mother died the day he was born, and his father disappeared long before then. Raised by his grandmother in a small town where everyone knew everyone, he learned early that being different came with a price. His soft voice and gentle movements drew mockery from neighbors and cousins who called him names he did not yet understand. “I was always the one they pointed at,” he said. “Even when I tried to stay quiet, they found something to laugh at.”
His grandmother, a market woman with rough hands and a firm voice, became his only shield. “She never let anyone insult me when she was around,” he said. “She used to tell me that being kind was not a weakness.” When she died during his final year of secondary school, the world became colder.
A scholarship helped him finish secondary school, but there was no money to continue. When an aunt invited him to the city of Port Harcourt to help with her children, he went with hope that things would change. The city, crowded and noisy, offered both freedom and fear. His aunt’s husband worked as a tailor, and Sully would spend evenings watching him cut fabrics and guide the sewing machine with quiet precision. Before long, he was learning too, stitching small items from leftover materials. It felt like something he could build a future around.
But peace never lasted. His aunt soon began complaining about his mannerisms and the way he spoke. “She said I behaved like a woman,” Sully recalled. “It became a daily insult.” When a customer at the shop offered him a job at another tailoring business, he accepted, saved what little he earned, and moved into a single room near the market. “That was when I started to breathe again,” he said. “I could buy my own food, make my own clothes, and live quietly.”
Then came the night that changed everything. After chatting with someone online for several weeks, Sully agreed to meet him. The man’s messages had seemed kind and interesting. For once, Sully allowed himself to feel wanted. But when he arrived at the address he had been given, he was surrounded by a group of men who accused him of being gay. They beat him, tore off his clothes, and forced him to “confess” while recording the scene on a phone. Neighbors gathered outside. He passed out. No one came to help. Instead, the neighbors called the police.
At the station, Sully was treated not as a victim of assault but as a criminal. The officers laughed as they played the video, asking for 900,000 naira (about US $620) if he wanted to avoid charges. He had no such money. “They said if I didn’t pay, I would rot in prison,” he said quietly. Even his aunt refused to visit him at the police station.
He spent months in detention. Food was scarce, his body weakened, and his case was continually delayed.
“I used to pray to just sleep and not wake up,” he said. “It was that bad.”
Hope finally arrived through Project Not Alone 2025, a legal aid initiative that the Erasing 76 Crimes news site runs to help innocent imprisoned queer people in Africa, using readers’ donations.
Sully was among the 12 LGBTQ prisoners in Cameroon and Nigeria whom Project Not Alone 2025 aimed to set free this year by paying their fines and, when needed, finding lawyers to represent them. None of them had been charged with anything other than homosexuality.
A volunteer lawyer working with Project Not Alone took his case and arranged for him to receive food every week. After several hearings, the court ordered him to pay a fine and attend therapy instead of serving a full sentence. Using readers’ donations, Project Not Alone paid a total of US $2,878 for Sully’s fines and therapy sessions, plus food deliveries, transportation costs, and unavoidable legal expenses even though the lawyer charged nothing.
When Sully walked out of the gate of Port Harcourt Prison in early August, the air felt heavy. “I should have been happy,” he said. “But I felt lost. Everything I had before was gone.” His family had cut all ties, his rented room had been taken over, and the tailoring shop had replaced him.
“I want to start again,” he said. “If I can get a sewing machine and some fabric, I know I can build something for myself. I don’t want to depend on anyone. I just want peace and a small space to work.”
“I thought my life would sink, but it did it not turn out that way. I appreciate all the donations towards my release,” Sully said. “I can’t say thank you enough to everyone who donated and the Project Not Alone team. God bless.”
Across Nigeria, distressing stories like Sully’s unfold quietly, without headlines or outrage. Many queer people live in constant fear, surviving through secrecy and the kindness of strangers. Arrests, blackmail, and violence are not uncommon. Justice rarely follows.
Sully’s life is still in pieces, but he is trying to stitch it back together. Each day, he sews a little more, both cloth and courage. “I survived,” he said. “That has to mean something.”
To support the LGBTQ rights advocacy journalism that makes Project Not Alone possible, please consider supporting the work of Erasing 76 Crimes via either PayPal. or Donorbox.
Project Not Alone is a donor-supported initiative of the Erasing 76 Crimes news site and its financial sponsor, the St. Paul’s Foundation for International Reconciliation, a U.S.-based charity.
Funds still needed
Project Not Alone has competed its fundraising for 2025 and soon expects to celebrate the release of all remaining prisoners championed by Project Not Alone, but our focus on fundraising from May through September has left Erasing 76 Crimes with only a little remaining cash to pay for the fundamental work of publishing articles about the human toll of 65+ countries’ anti-gay laws and the struggle to repeal them.
Without that work, Project Not Alone wouldn’t be possible.
If you’re in a position to help us pay our activist reporters, please consider making a generous donation. The St. Paul’s Foundation for International Reconciliation is a tax-exempt charity, so donations are U.S. tax-deductible via:
- PayPal (for U.S. dollar contributions). For other currencies, send PayPal donations to stpaulsfdr@gmail.com
- Alternatively, you could send a check to St. Paul’s Foundation, c/o Colin Stewart, 5517 Paseo del Lago East Unit 1B, Laguna Woods CA 92637 USA. Please write “Project Not Alone” on the memo line and send an email to stpaulsfdr@gmail.com to let us know it’s coming.
