LGBTQ


him, as sexual relations between men are illegal in his home country. “As a queer person, I can find it difficult to tell queer stories


of trauma as it’s a bit close to home and they can have a lot of backlash. When I look on social media at comments on a story, the homophobia can feel like a personal attack as I relate to the person I am covering. It can be stressful and I worry about identification of my sexuality if I cover them too much.” Paul says he is out at work to some colleagues but not publicly. However, a reporter’s sexuality can sometimes be used to tell


the story in a way that would not be possible with a straight correspondent. In 2019, Longman travelled to the Chechen Republic, which


is part of the Russian federation. Tere had been what had been described as a ‘gay purge’ in the region, with the forced disappearance, imprisonment and torture of men who were presumed to be gay. In a memorable scene, Longman came out to Apti


Alaudinov, the notorious head of the Chechen police who had previously said there were “no gays in Chechnya”. “I had no intention of coming out to him”, Longman tells me. “It was a calculation in the moment. I checked with our crew


if they were happy for me to do it and they said go for it. It felt particularly powerful as it was in the prison room [where gay men had been tortured]. Te next 48 hours were intense and I only relaxed when we left the country. “I came into journalism to show truth to power and shine a


light on some of the most vulnerable people in the world, which, sadly, include gay people. “When I go to Chechnya, I am going to naturally lean


towards these stories. It helps being gay to find these stories; however, I don’t want to be just a gay journalist or defined as just one thing.” Some editors might have reservations over sending an


openly LGBT journalist to a country where their sexuality or gender expression is illegal. Indeed, I have spoken to several gay colleagues who believe they could have been passed over for deployments for this very reason. Tere may also be worries the effect of being in a


homophobic environment could have. In 2013, Stephen Fry said that he attempted death by suicide after an interview with Uganda’s then minister of state for ethics and integrity. He was in the country to interview the minister about Uganda’s


Main image: Lagos city, Nigeria Right: Andre Lombard at the Lekki Conservation Centre


“


notorious anti-homosexuality bill for his documentary, Stephen Fry: Out Tere. Certainly, I can relate to feelings of loneliness, isolation and


My case studies were ostracised, afraid to be themselves and carrying a heavy emotional burden


anger a forced return to the metaphorical closet can bring. Paul says he has also experienced these emotions while


covering a story on homophobia in west Africa. “It was a very interesting time as I had just come out to my


family. My case studies were ostracised socially, afraid to be themselves and carrying a heavy emotional burden and I found that very triggering. “I now make sure that I don’t read comments online or have


my socials tagged as the comments can be very triggering. I also make sure I talk to friends, debrief with them and attend regular therapy sessions.” While of course every editor should be concerned about


their journalist’s safety, I would ask that managers talk to their staff about any concerns they have. It is likely they will already have an understanding of the environment they are entering and taken measures to address it. As Longman says: “It’s imperative that you trust the


individual. People need to be able to operate in different cultures and environments.” It is also important that editors do direct reporters to


support that they can receive in the field – such as employee assistance programmes and staff networks – as well as when they return. Ultimately, though, western journalists visiting or working


in these areas can often benefit from something their local counterparts, such as Paul, cannot rely on – privilege. “I always had the option to leave,” Dale says. “Whether that


be to Johannesburg for the weekend to let my hair down at a gay bar or ultimately leave the country if things became too problematic, whereas gay Zambians often don’t have this luxury.” Tat’s a point not lost on Longman. “I feel so lucky that I get to come back to the UK and not


think about who I am,” he says. “And that is only luck afforded to me by the lottery of birth.”


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