Laila (35), from Morocco to Malaysia

“I grew up in Morocco in the 1990s. Boys and girls played together when we were alone. But if our families were around, I had to ‘behave’ – which meant ‘behave like a boy’, at the risk of being beaten.”

This was life for Laila as a young trans woman. But with help from Trans Rescue, she’s now happily settled in Malaysia.

“I thought I was crazy”

A tray of maghrebi mint tea, with a silver teapot, four glasses, and bowls of nuts.
Maghrebi tea, sky#walker, CC BY-SA 2.0.

Her story begins in childhood. “I’ve known I was transgender since I was 5 or 6. Computers and the internet weren’t very available in Morocco, there were no books about being transgender. So I thought I was crazy.”

Morocco scores a dismal 13/100 for LGBT rights, according to the collaborative knowledgebase Equaldex. Armed police arrest hundreds of LGBT people per year, claiming they commit “indecent or unnatural acts”, “obscene gestures”, and “violation of public decency”, with prison terms up to three years.

For Laila, hope came with the arrival of the internet. “Around 2002 I had access to cybercafes and searched AltaVista. I found transgender forums and started to learn more about myself, although I knew I had to hide it from my family. I tried to ‘behave’ like a man – I even joined the army at 21! But later I resigned because I knew it wouldn’t work out.”

The journey begins

Talking online helped her clarify matters. “After three years I knew I needed to start transitioning. I spent another three years researching how to get hormones. I read every medical article I could find, learned about different kinds of medication. I studied biology and physiology.”

But until 2018 she’d never even met another trans person. That meeting occurred through a rare channel where Moroccan trans people were visible – a website for prostitutes. “One was in my neighbourhood. I gave her money, and we spent the whole night just talking. I got so much useful information! A year later I decided to take my first pill and start the journey.”

Sadly, her transition drove a wedge between her and her family. “After a year my mother started to notice the changes, but we didn’t talk about it. I lied and told her I had a hormone problem. I decided to buy my own apartment to secure myself – a safe place, one where I could be myself.”

Economic pressure

Things went well until 2024, when she had to leave her professional, well-paying job – and found her gender presentation made her unhireable in Morocco. “When you go to a job interview in Morocco, you first present your ID – and mine, of course, said I was a man. So the questions were never about the job, but instead things like, “Why is your hair so long? Why are you so feminine?” I couldn’t pay my mortgage, so the bank moved to seize my home.”

By Moroccan law, not only would she lose her home, but she’d be stopped at the border if she tried to leave the country. Fortunately, the bank’s letter arrived on a Friday, so she wouldn’t be thrown out until Monday. “I knew what awaited me as a homeless, jobless trans woman in Morocco. I considered killing myself that night.”

Trans Rescue steps in

But Laila had an ace in the hole – she’d already started talking with Trans Rescue. So she told them of her plight, and Trans Rescue immediately sent a plane ticket.

She went first to Turkey, where she was able to get a waitressing job. But after three months of the Turkish government ignoring her attempts to claim asylum, and seeing the hostile Erdoğan government shutting down queer groups, she moved to Thailand. There things were a bit better, but not great. “I discovered that they’re LGBTQ friendly, but not so friendly toward foreigners. I couldn’t get help, or even advice.”

A selection of dishes of food on a table with a red tablecloth.
A selection of Malaysian dishes. Pauloleong2002, CC BY-SA 4.0.

Finally she went to Malaysia, where she arrived with no money, and only a hostel reservation for ten days. Trans Rescue’s case worker connected her with the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees), while someone at the hostel directed her to volunteer work that would give her shelter and food. “It was a good experience. When my boss quit two months later, he and his wife took me with them. I stayed with them for another two months.”

Things got better from there. Trans Rescue connected her with local organisations; her case worker found her an apartment; and she had a job interview. More settled, Laila wanted to give back, and approached Trans Rescue about volunteering.  She has been a vigorous and energetic volunteer, and is now Operations Lead. Trans Rescue now provides her a stipend so she can continue the work.

Anne Ogborn, Trans Rescue’s director, says, “Operations is our most complex, emotionally difficult, tricky, and sometimes dangerous area. It’s where we do what we do. Laila does an amazing job with it. I know she puts in incredible hours. We are very, very lucky to have her running the show.”

Faith and persistence

Laila is now far from the threats and condemnation of Morocco. And while Malaysia’s laws are similarly repressive, Equaldex reports that public opinion toward LGBT people is much more sympathetic.

She credits her success to her faith and persistence – and Trans Rescue. “I consider myself religious. We don’t control everything in life – bad or good, it happens to you anyway. We just deal with what life has given us.” To others struggling to escape she advises: “Stay strong; don’t lose your will. And stay safe, even if that means cutting off your family. Avoid trouble.”

And, finally, reach out to Trans Rescue. “Trans Rescue was a life saver. If they hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have traveled three countries and become myself. I’m grateful to Trans Rescue.”

References:

Kuala Lumpur header picture: James Kerwin, CC BY 2.0.