In Malawi, parents of LGBTQ+ children face ridicule, violence, and ostracism from their communities. Yet, for many, the love they feel for their children endures, even when society condemns them.
Here is a story of three parents who navigated fear, rejection, and ultimately, acceptance in that regard.
One day on a quiet afternoon in Ndirande, a lady nicknamed Naphiri sat under a mango tree, tears flowing as she recalled the day her son told her he was gay.
"I thought he was joking," she said softly. "But when he said it again, I felt my chest tighten. I feared what people would say my friends, relatives and church members."
Word of her son's sexuality spread fast. People started whispering at the market where I ply my business.
"I would walk past the rice seller, and she would lower her voice, staring at me. 'So, your son is like that,' she would murmur. Children in the neighbourhood would point at him and laugh. It was unbearable."
Her church, once a sanctuary, became a source of despair. Members avoided her; some preached that she had failed as a mother. Eventually, she was excommunicated.
"They said I was supporting sin. But how could I stop being a mother to my child? I didn't give birth to a monster; I gave birth to my son," Naphiri said, her voice breaking.
At home, her son became withdrawn, afraid to speak openly. Nights were the hardest. I watched my son lie awake, whispering 'Mama, I am sorry' over and over. And I had to hold him, pretending I was calm, when inside I was torn apart and angry as to why he turned out like that."
In Thyolo, a retired teacher, famous for his totem Khwanana, faced a nightmare when villagers found out that his daughter was a lesbian. They reacted with swift cruelty.
"People gathered outside our house. Some spat on our gate. I could hear them whisper, 'This family is cursed. How can this man allow his daughter to love other women,'" Khwanana recalled.
He added: "Before we could make a plan the chief summoned me and told me we were not welcome in their village as my daughter would corrupt other girls with her behaviours. The chief said if I did not leave in the next two days, I would face the consequences."
He said further people he had helped in school would cross the street to avoid me. "At the market, neighbours muttered insults whenever my daughter walked past. I felt like we had been erased from our own community. Even friends and distant relatives joined in the gossip," she added.
Khwanana considered disowning his daughter, but the thought was unbearable.
"I looked at her, trembling and crying, and I knew I could not abandon her. The world could reject her, but I could not," said the teacher.
In Mzimba, Luwani, a widow, faced threats to his life when her transgender child began expressing herself openly. The neighbourhood became hostile.
"They called my daughter names like 'devil' and 'witch' in the market." Luwani said.
One night, a group of young men approached his house, shouting and throwing stones.
"We ran into the darkness and hid under the trees, listening as they cursed us. My wife almost broke her leg during the run. We thought we were not going to see daylight again," he recalled.
His child withdrew from school, too afraid to face the world.
"She couldn't leave the house, wouldn't answer the phone and was scared people would attack her," he said.
Luwani reached out to a local NGO for help, workshops and counseling sessions helped him and his wife to understand their child's identity and rights.
"I realized my child's identity was not a curse. It was who she was. That gave me the courage to stand against the hatred, and to teach others to see her humanity," he said.
Many Malawians believe LGBTQ+ people do not exist and that those that come out do it for money. Yet survey called Under Wraps conducted in 2019 estimated that over 186 000 individuals identified as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or queer in Malawi at that time.
The number must have likely grown as more people come out despite stigma and legal risk.
Malawi's Penal Code (Sections 153 and 156) criminalizes 'carnal knowledge against the order of nature,' punishable by up to 14 years in prison.
"The law may have criminalized same-sex relations," said lawyer Chisomo Phiri, a human rights advocate, "but it did not erase the existence of LGBTQ+ people. The Constitution guarantees dignity for all. Compassion and understanding, not persecution, are needed."
Religious beliefs shape societal attitudes toward LGBTQ+ people. Many faith leaders condemn homosexuality, while others emphasize love.
"The Bible is clear," said Pastor Benson Makala, "but Christ taught us to love. You can disagree with your child's choices, but you cannot not stop being a parent. Love should never end."
Some parents disowned their children, unable to bear the social consequences.
"I couldn't handle the shame," said one mother who asked to remain anonymous. "Every time I walked to the market, people whispered. I told my child not to come home anymore. Maybe I was wrong, but I felt trapped."
"We offered counselling and dialogue sessions," said activist Miriam Phiri once a member of the Cedep. "When parents understood that being LGBTQ+ was not a disease or a choice, it transformed how they saw their children. We saw families reunited after years of silence."
Naphiri now fiercely protects her son and Khwanana reconciled with his daughter while Luwani advocates for his child in his community.
Malawi's discussion on LGBTQ+ rights remains tense. Many fear promoting "Western values," yet these stories reveal the human cost of silence.
Lawyer Phiri said, "We cannot build a just society by pretending some citizens don't exist.
The law should protect everyone, even those we don't understand."
Luwani reflected, "When they almost burned my house, I realized ignorance could kill. But love could heal. My child might have been different, but she was still mine."
The courage of parents like Naphiri, Khwanana, and Luwani tells a story of love tested, faith questioned, and humanity rediscovered. Their journeys remind Malawi that LGBTQ+ people exist -- not as enemies of culture, but as sons and daughters, born into families still struggling between tradition and love. For those that only think it can only happen to those perhaps it is high time you reflected about how would you react if it was your child or friend and told you they were gay.