Escaping Homophobia With Help from a Catholic LGBTQ+ Group

In March, Bondings 2.0 told the story of Arslan, a gay refugee from Turkmenistan, who was persecuted, imprisoned, and exposed to violence because of his sexual orientation. He is now in a safe place in Europe with a humanitarian visa that he got with the help of La Tenda di Gionata (Jonathan’s Tent), a Catholic LGBTQ+ association based in Italy. 

Once in a safe place, Arslan reached out to his friends Mansur (26 years old) and Azat (28), whose identities are being kept anonymous for safety’s sake. They, too, were also persecuted because of their sexual orientation and need help to escape their countries, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan.

Bondings 2.0’s Elisa Belotti (EB) interviewed Mansur (M), Azat (A), and Alessandro Previti (AP), a volunteer of La Tenda di Gionata.

Mansur

EB: Why are you telling your story?

M: I am currently in the nation of Georgia, but I’m not completely safe. I am an openly LGBTQ+ person from Tajikistan, where I have been persecuted by law enforcement authorities because of my sexual orientation. I am asking for protection and for my story to be heard because many others like me cannot speak out. I fear that if I return, I will face arrest, violence, and possibly torture.

EB:What was it like for you growing up?

M: I was born in 2000 and raised in a well-educated family. Overall, my life was comfortable, and I had access to education and opportunities. My family is Muslim, and traditions and expectations are powerful At the same time, I have Jewish roots, which is also an important part of my identity. From the outside, everything looked normal, and no one suspected that I was gay. I successfully hid my identity for many years.

From an early age, I felt different from other boys. I tried very hard to hide it. I was sometimes mocked at school and within my extended family, and I felt shame and fear. I constantly monitored how I behaved, walked, and spoke so that no one would notice anything about me.

When I was around 13 years old, I understood that I was attracted to boys and, the next year, I had my first relationship with a boy. This made me understand my identity more clearly and also made me understand that I had to keep it completely secret because it was not safe

I lived with constant fear of exposure. In the  especially  conservative and religious environment in which I live, being openly LGBTQ+ is not accepted and can be dangerous. Eventhough since 1998 same-sex acts are not illegal in Tajikistan, there are many restrictions.

EB: How did your sexual orientation become public?

M: In 2024, during a very difficult moment – my mother had just passed away – I started texting with a man through a dating platform. We arranged to meet in person. However, when I arrived at the meeting location, I was detained by officers from the Sixth Department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, a unit known for targeting LGBTQ+ individuals.

I was taken to the police station, where my phone, documents, and personal belongings were confiscated. I was forced to unlock my phone, and when I refused, I was beaten until they gained access to my private messages, which revealed my sexual orientation.

I was held in detention for three days. During this time, I was repeatedly interrogated, humiliated, and threatened. I was pressured to confess and to provide information about other gay men. I was also taken to a medical facility for a forced examination, which was done without my consent. The authorities used this as a way to “confirm” my sexual orientation and document it officially. Eventually, I was released after my sister managed to find me and intervene.

EB: What happened after this aggression?

M: I realized that I was no longer safe. My life had completely changed, and I understood that I could be targeted again at any time. I fled Tajikistan and began moving between countries in an attempt to find safety, but I was  forced to return to Tajikistan.

In 2025, I attempted to escape again. At the border, I was detained for several hours and told that my passport was flagged, which made me believe I was on an official list of LGBTQ+ people. After finally entering Kyrgyzstan, I stayed in a shelter for some days, but I experienced threats and sexual coercion there too. I was pressured to do sexual things against my will and when I refused I was told that I could be sent back to Tajikistan.

EB: You are in Georgia right now. Are you safe?

M: I arrived in Georgia some months ago . However, I still do not feel fully safe here, and I am afraid of being left without protection or being forced to return to Tajikistan where I could experience arrest, violence, torture, and persecution. I am already known to the authorities, and I believe I would be targeted again.

I have supporting evidence and documentation from NGOs and international organizations that prove my story. I am not asking for a better life, I am simply asking for safety. I ask for protection in a country where I can live without fear, continue my life with dignity, and not be persecuted because of who I am.

Azat

EB: Azat, you were born and raised in Turkmenistan. What were the circumstances that made you  leave the country?

A: I left  Turkmenistan when the officers from the State Security Committee summoned me because of my sexual orientation. They knew about my homosexuality from a gay informer who reported me and other 13 gay people. They had all sorts of information about me: where I was born, what I did for a living, where I worked. The next day the police showed up at my workplace, but I was already in the process of leaving the country.

A couple of weeks before my evacuation, I was also attacked by some neighbors who found out about my sexual orientation. They beat me up very badly and knocked out my front tooth.

Luckily I had a passport, but not enough money to leave, so I asked for help. I got in contact with EQUAL PostOst, an organization that helps LGBTQ+ people in post-Soviet countries. Finally, some months ago, with their help, I crossed the border from Turkmenistan to Uzbekistan and then I took a plane to Georgia.

EB: What was life as a gay person like in  Turkmenistan?

A: I was born in 1998. Since childhood, my life has been marked by violence and discrimination. I grew up in a dysfunctional family. My stepfather regularly physically abused me and my mother. He was addicted to alcohol and was aggressive, and cruel. My mother was unable or unwilling to protect me. When I was 14, I left my house and started living with a friend’s family, receiving no support from my relatives. I began working at an early age and tried to build my life under constant psychological pressure. I gradually discovered my homosexuality, but I have always lived it in secret and fear. The Turkmen law is very harsh towards homosexual people.

Homosexuality  is punishable by law, and there are gay men who work for the police and turn people in. Article 135 of the Criminal Code punishes male homosexuality, called “sodomy,” with imprisonment of up to five years, and Article 119 establishes criminal liability, including imprisonment, for infecting another person with HIV. So you can imagine the shock and the fear I felt when I found out I was HIV positive. If I am forced to come back to Turkmenistan, I would be deprived of the opportunity to receive protection and further HIV treatment.

EB: Do you feel safe now Georgia?

A: No, I am not safe. I managed to get a job but was fired. Fear and discrimination have not abandoned me. I will have to leave soon because they will not approve my visa. It’s just completely exhausting and I’m mentally afraid I won’t be able to cope with it.

Georgian law prevents me from working without a permit, but they won’t give it to me without a visa. So, although over the past 13 years I have invested a lot of effort, money, knowledge, and experience in both work and life, now I am in a foreign country, in unfamiliar surroundings, not knowing the language and like some kind of beggar asking everyone who can somehow help me so I can eat, buy medications, and stay afloat, and not engage in prostitution to survive. This will break me morally even worse.

Given the criminal prosecution of LGBTQ+ people in Turkmenistan, the lack of legal protection, and my additional vulnerability due to my HIV status, returning to Turkmenistan poses a real risk of imprisonment, cruel and degrading treatment, and a threat to my life and health. I am hoping for the opportunity to find a safe place where LGBTQ+ people are not subject to criminal prosecution, and people living with HIV have access to treatment. I want to live, continue treatment, and work without constant fear for my life and freedom.

Alessandro Previti

Alessandro Previti is a member of La Tenda di Gionata, the LGBTQ+ Catholic association that is helping Mansur and Azat apply for humanitarian visas.

EB: Alessandro,why did you commit to this humanitarian service?

Alessandro Previti

AP: How much is a human life worth? I often read online about the net worth of famous people. So people have a price. What is mine? I don’t know, but I do know that I spent Christmas and New Year’s Eve reading long documents to help a desperate young man who wrote: “In a few days, for me, it’s over.”

I didn’t just spontaneously decide to help gay people asking for humanitarian asylum. I have taxes to pay, groceries to buy, I am a single father with a teenage daughter, and I have many errands during my day. But at some point I felt that if someone didn’t start doing something, these people would be condemned.

Let me be honest. La Tenda di Gionata didn’t have a structure for this, nor dedicated resources or real on-the-ground experience. But we are made up of people, and we are moved by stories like those of Arslan, Mansur, and Azat. They asked me if I could do something, and I agreed to get involved. The association supported this commitment with reliability, heart, and faith. Arslan is now safe in Europe and, even if he doesn’t have much at the moment, he is doing what he can to help others.

EB: Which obstacles did you encounter while following the cases of Arslan, Mansur, and Azat,? And what have you achieved?

AP: The obstacles are many: incomplete information, missing contacts, and scarce resources. It is not easy to offer help to traumatized and frightened people, who are forced to make life-changing decisions without having a complete picture. But they told us: “You are the first ones who really listened to us.” This means a lot to them: having someone willing to stay, read, understand, and find a real way to keep them safe.

 The truth is that helping means walking a balance between hope and friction, building solutions within legal, economic, and logistical restrictions, in a maze of incomplete information.And, sadly, there are people who die in prison with a noose around their neck, or in their homes in silence, or under a rain of blows. Not everyone survives. Only sometimes does someone listen and take action, and only for some does the story have a happy ending.

—Elissa Belotti, New Ways Ministry, May 5, 2026