When Kenya’s High Court delivered its landmark ruling on August 26, 2025, ordering the government to legislate for transgender protections, it wasn’t just a legal victory—it was a profound cultural landmark. From Kampala, where LGBTQ+ life exists under the unyielding Anti-Homosexuality Act 2023 that casts long shadows over queer existence, this milestone in Nairobi resonates with urgency, hope, and a stark reminder of what remains at stake. The story of one Kenyan trans woman has now become a symbol of possibility for a region too often defined by exclusion and hostility.
The case itself was groundbreaking. A trans woman, known publicly only as “SC,” sued after enduring degrading and humiliating treatment while detained, despite presenting official documentation affirming her gender identity. The High Court ruled in her favour, acknowledging that her dignity, privacy, and freedom from cruel treatment had been violated.
The judges awarded her one million Kenyan Shillings in damages—roughly £5,700 or $7,700—and went further, ordering Parliament to pass a Transgender Protection Rights Act or amend the existing Intersex Persons Bill to include explicit recognition of transgender people. For the first time in Africa, a court has instructed the state to create protective legislation specifically for trans citizens. Activists, including Lolyne Onger, hailed the decision as a turning point that could dismantle decades of invisibility and silence if Parliament follows through.
From the Ugandan perspective, the contrast could not be sharper. Just two years ago, in 2023, Uganda passed one of the harshest anti-LGBTQ+ laws in the world. The Anti-Homosexuality Act prescribes life imprisonment for same-sex relations and even the death penalty for so-called “aggravated homosexuality.” The law goes beyond punishing intimacy; it criminalises advocacy and visibility, making the simple act of speaking about LGBTQ+ lives punishable with up to 20 years in prison. It has created a climate of fear where safety is fragile and silence often feels like the only form of survival.
And yet, Kenya’s ruling speaks powerfully into that silence. It shows that the law can be more than a weapon; it can be reclaimed as a tool of justice. It demonstrates that courts, even within East Africa, can side with dignity, humanity, and fairness. From Kampala, many queer Ugandans cannot help but feel a spark of validation. While our own state sees us as criminals, Kenya has shown that it is possible to be seen in the eyes of the law as a human being deserving of protection.
Among Uganda’s LGBTQ+ community, the ruling has stirred intense conversations. For some, it has ignited hope that legal victories are not as distant as they sometimes seem, even in a hostile climate. For others, it is a call for regional solidarity, a reminder that East Africa’s queer future cannot be won in isolation. The ruling has become a source of both cautious optimism and emotional resonance, serving as proof that change, however incremental, is possible within the systems that so often oppress us.
Kenya’s court has done more than hand down a judgment—it has issued a challenge to the region. It dares us to imagine a future where rights are not denied but recognised, where the state does not erase us but protects us. For Ugandans, the path ahead remains treacherous, but the Kenyan precedent is a torch in the darkness. It is a reminder that even in East Africa, long associated with hostility toward queer life, the law itself can become a site of liberation.
From Kampala to Nairobi, our struggles are connected. The fight for dignity knows no borders, and victories in one country ripple outward. As Kenya’s Parliament now grapples with the task of legislating for trans rights, we in Uganda watch, learn, and dream. For us, their fight is also ours. May their progress not only reshape Kenya but help light a path toward justice in Uganda as well.
