Nepal’s older LGBTQ people feel ‘invisible’ – alienated from society, activist community
- Many over 50 had heterosexual marriages to meet social norms. Some who are now trying to lead a more authentic life are rejected by their own children
- As Nepal inches towards marriage equality, older LGBTQ people say they face unique struggles, with their needs being overlooked even by activists
At age 11, Sapana Chaudhary knew she was not like the other boys. By 17, she was being bullied for being effeminate, yet still forced by parents to marry a girl around the same age. Now 55 and a parent-of-three who identifies as a transgender woman, Chaudhary reflects on a life shaped by prejudice.
“My son tore all my women’s clothing and said I bring shame to the family,” said Chaudhary, who now lives alone in eastern Nepal. “But what do I do? This is who I am.”
A 2022 survey of 100 LGBTQ individuals aged 50 to 75 by Mitini Nepal – a charity promoting lesbian, bisexual, and transgender rights – found that 15 per cent were in heterosexual relationships, with some married due to pressure to hide their sexuality or being forced to by family.
Sixty-five per cent of those surveyed said they lived under emotional and psychological pressure.
Nepal is touted for its progressive LGBTQ laws in a conservative region. A new republican constitution enacted in 2015 was hailed for granting equal protection to LGBTQ citizens.
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However, a district court in Kathmandu has refused to register a transgender woman and a heterosexual man – citing the law that only allows marriage between a man and a woman.
Rights activists say marriage equality has fallen to the wayside due to unwilling conservative lawmakers and bureaucratic hurdles.
Nepal’s LGBTQ community is estimated to number more than 900,000 people, among a population of around 30 million.
A 2021 census, however, showed only 2,928 people in the country identifying as “other”, rather than male or female. Rights activists say this is a gross underestimation, with many people uncomfortable disclosing their true selves or not wanting to be identified as “other”.
State support denied
As the authorities and legal system drag their feet, the painful outcomes for many are multiplying, advocates say. Sukumaya Magar lived with her lesbian partner for nearly three decades until she sadly died three years ago.
Since then, the 52-year-old Magar has had more than her grief to cope with. As the relationship was not legally recognised by the state, she’s unable to receive a monthly allowance of 2,660 rupees (US$20) provided to widows by the government.
Magar is also too young to be eligible for a state social security allowance of around US$32 a month that’s reserved solely for single women over the age of 60. As a result, she says she has virtually no source of income.
“If I were married to a man and widowed, I would have received the government allowance [for widows] without any issue,” she said. “It’s very sad to be discriminated against because I loved and lived with another woman, when the law says we are equal.”
Employment and income disparities afflict Nepal’s LGBTQ community, especially those who are older.
The Mitini Nepal survey showed that 86 per cent of the respondents did not receive state benefits – including the single woman allowance and social security allowance – with their age, gender identity and sexual orientation believed to be the reason.
But even though she dresses as a man, she often receives less than the wage agreed upon and believes this is discrimination – by both travellers and shop owners – because of her appearance.
In Kathmandu, 55-year-old Kanchi Maya Tamang, a transgender woman, said her appearance restricted any employment opportunities.
A daily wage worker in shops, restaurants and on construction sites, she said she “feels like a woman” but often must “dress like a man” to avoid harassment from her landlord, neighbours and prospective employers, a situation exacerbated by her age.
“They don’t want to give us work because we are old,” Tamang said, adding this marginalisation even extended to the activist community. “I feel we are invisible and even left behind by the same activists fighting for [LGBTQ] rights.”
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Sarita KC, the executive director of Mitni Nepal, who identifies as bisexual, acknowledged that the country’s LGBTQ movement had previously overlooked older individuals and their specific needs.
“We need to document their struggles because we’ll also get there some day. We’re also gradually advocating for their rights and well-being with the authorities, as many officials are almost unaware about their existence.”
Many older LGBTQ Nepalis had lower literacy rates limiting their access to information, jobs and better pay, KC added, while prejudice from relatives had contributed to their vulnerability to physical and emotional abuse, resulting in loneliness and poor mental health for many.
These older people “need to be heard and recognised”, she said.
Yet, she said: “I don’t regret not marrying for the sake of society.”
Striking a balance
Some older people have learned to navigate a pathway between their identities and relationships.
Ram Chandra Chaudhary, a 52-year-old gay man from the far-western Kailai district, said he had married at 14 and only discovered his sexual orientation much later on in life.
He said his wife and children were aware of his identity, but “don’t say anything”.
Hundreds of miles away, on the other side of the country in Saptari district, a 65-year-old transgender woman known to many as Budhiya – a derogatory term often used for older women – said she married “for society’s sake”.
She still lives with her wife and while most of their five children are married and largely accepting of her, she often still dresses as a man due to discrimination and name-calling in her village, despite growing awareness of the LGBTQ community.
The family had accepted her partner, a 57-year-old openly gay man from the same area, whom she has known for most of her life and been involved with for many years, she said.
“I’ve made my family and my community aware,” she added. “I did what needed to be done – took care of the family and educated my children.”