But first, in Nigeria, Bobrisky, a popular transgender woman, has been sentenced to six months in jail without the option of a fine for “spraying” the naira — a common practice in Nigerian parties and celebrations. To fully understand the circumstances behind Bobrisky’s unusual prosecution and sentence, we must look back three weeks ago. On March 24, 2024, Bobrisky received the Best Dressed Female award at a movie premiere, which caused nationwide controversy, heated debates, and anger, especially with Nigeria being a conservative country. At the premiere’s afterparty, videos of Bobrisky and other celebrities spraying money at a performer surfaced online. However, days later, Bobrisky was the only one charged by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) for naira abuse. In a surprisingly fast-paced prosecution, only lasting one week, Bobrisky was convicted and sentenced to six months in prison without the option of a fine despite being a first-time offender. It’s difficult not to see this sentence as being not targeted because there are numerous videos of senators and ministers spraying naira notes without repercussions. However, what’s even more disturbing is that the Nigerian Correctional Services (NCoS) announced that Bobrisky will serve her sentence in the male section of the prison facility, exposing her to the risk of harassment and assault. This situation not only sets a dangerous precedent, but it’s yet another example of how dangerous Nigeria is for queer people regardless of their wealth or social status. Sudan civil war: The children living between starvation and death in Darfur Vatican declares surrogacy & gender-affirming care violations of human dignity In island communities on the southwest coast of Cameroon, the majority of the inhabitants are Nigerians. Stifled by administrative bottlenecks and despite their wish to, these Nigerians, most of whom were born in these communities, have failed to obtain Cameroonian citizenship. Stella Ogunsemore, 31, was born in the small island community of Mbomo, 20 minutes away from Kangue Island. 50 years ago, Ogunsemore’s parents migrated from Nigeria and settled in Mbomo. While the mother of three sees herself as a Cameroonian — given that she was born and raised there — Cameroon doesn’t recognize her as such. “I was born and bred in Cameroon but I don’t have a Cameroonian nationality,” Ogunsemore, who is also a seamstress, tells Minority Africa. She has made several attempts to obtain Cameroonian nationality but has failed. “I have compiled my documents several times and dropped them in Buea to get a nationality as a Cameroonian but I have never succeeded.” Because of this, Ogunsemore has to reserve 150,000frs (about $250) of her small income to acquire a residence permit every two years. “From time to time, Cameroon’s forces of law and order visit our community and if you are caught without a residence permit, you will be arrested and you will pay a lot of money to gain your freedom,” she says. The colonial construction of transphobia and the continued enforcement of gender hegemony, have created an environment in which transgender people have to conform to idealised depictions of femininity and masculinity to find a sense of community and safety. As a non-binary trans woman, my usual gender presentation does not match with the typical ideas regarding femininity. I realized this a while ago while living in Tamboerskloof, an area in the center of Cape Town, South Africa. I was having a bad day and wanted to get some snacks from my local grocery store. I was wearing no make-up, a baggy band shirt, and a comfy pair of sweatpants. I made the five-minute walk down the road to get myself some ice cream and a bottle of wine. As I walked back to my apartment, two men followed me home, yelling transphobic slurs at me. Eventually, the two men cornered me outside my apartment and threatened to “fix me” with sexual violence. I made the same walk two weeks later in a dress and make-up with zero harassment. I learned a lesson that day. I was putting my life on the line if I ventured into the city center without appearing vaguely feminine. This forced me to start to think about African societal perceptions of womanhood and femininity and how much of what we tout to be African ideas of gender were set up and continue to be propped by colonialism and its many instruments. On a rainy night last June, police officers in Mombasa arrested a young trans woman and allegedly refused to let her go until she’d paid them a $50 bribe. Brian, in her late 20s, told CNN that the police held her in their custody for “being drunk and disorderly” when she was leaving a queer-friendly club in Kenya’s second most populous city.