I am a young Moroccan, and I want to publish my story.
1989: At age 4, I get raped by a neighbor who is older than me. For fear that the whole family is aware, my parents did not file a complaint. They are confined to move in the neighborhood where we lived.
1999: At 14, I began to develop some attraction to men. I subscribe to a gym to have maximum contact with people of my sex. At the time, I was completely ignorant of reason and the significance of this attraction.
2000: I start to worry, to live in anxiety, doubts … I can not understand why I am drawn more and more by males. During the winter holidays, I find myself alone with a cousin, who wants to have an intimate moment. She starts to caress me, to kiss me … she is very beautiful, but I am disgusted by this idea, and I refuse to do that love or that we continue to flirt. At first I thought that this reaction was due to stage fright, but a few months later, I discover my truth – a truth that I was surprised, shocked, and that changed my life – in preparation for the final review of the final year of college: As I revise with a friend, I propose to simulate a scene of flirtation. I told him that it’s just that when we have direct contact with the female, we are experts in flirtation. Except that the simulation ends up making love. At that time, I have mixed feelings. I am happy I did and even as I am afraid of what I am: a homosexual. Because yes, I understand the nature of my orientation. I spend a few days then one to think. I’m afraid my parents discover the truth about their son, I fear the eyes of society. And then I think for the first time to end my life. I am 15 years old.
2001: I am in high school. Many students try to go out with me. I have a beautiful face and especially beautiful eyes. But I still refused the requests. Many people begin to have doubts about me, especially since I’m interested in all that is feminine (makeup, hair …). The other students how to treat me dirty fag and I am more and more stressed. I can not stand what people say about me. Then I stop going to school, this being the day of inspections and examinations. Logically, the 2000-2001 school year ends with an average catastrophic 8 / 20 and a repetition.
2002: So I repeated. And my new year unfolds as the previous one. Everyone insults me, laughs at me, calls me a fag. I excluded all male activities. I was a good player of handball to the colleague, but I refused to team with players from the team of high school. Again I can not stand what is happening around me and I begin to use drugs. The drug helps me to support the class, and I’m not allowed to repeat a second time. And after all this suffering, I still manage my year.
2003: I changed college to change the climate but the new high school, I still have more problems and I’m still insulted, attacked and rejected. And I react the same way as before, by drugs and truancy. The worst happens when regional review … I meet a young student who comes from a private high school. I flirted with him in the toilet and the management has learned … I managed my year, but I am expelled from school. The administration asked me to find a college that will accept someone like me … I spend a vacation horrible to wonder if I can find a college that will accept me as the reason for the referral is recorded on my school records. I want at any price to have my diploma. I try with several high schools, which I refuse all … In September, I must confess to my parents that I was expelled from school … I tell them it’s because of my too many absences. But my parents with me in my previous high school and there, they discover the truth about their son. My father then decided that I need to stop the studies and I never left the house, but my mother convinced him that I should at least get my tray.
2004: I have finally taken over the one month and a half after the school year. And on top of my sufferings in high school, I live in a small prison. My father was my use of time, and I’m not allowed to stay out of the house after 19h. I am deprived of the outside world, and my father forces me to practice 100% Muslim. I even have to imitate the early Muslims (pray, pray more after midnight, fasting on Mondays and Thursdays, Clothing simple, no big names, attend meetings and Islamic lessons, sleeping in mosques …). He does everything to put me on track. Harder still, my father took me with him on weekends on construction sites to the masonry. He said he will make me a man, a real one. And I have no right to protest or claim, if I fought like a dog. Still, I managed to get my diploma. And then my parents make me a big surprise: they try to marry a cousin who lives in Nantes. I refuse. I then beaten and returned home. At 19, I have nowhere to go. Especially since my father had and still has great power over the family: no one is willing to accommodate me. So I find myself to sleep anywhere, eat anything, alone with my suitcase and my tray. I spend three months in the street. I then decided to go to Marrakech, to register at the hotel school in the city, as the institute offers in-house accommodation and food. I joined this school in October 2004.
October 2004-September 2006: At first I thought that everything was going to happen a lot better, especially at Marrakech, I met three fellow students, a Lebanese, a Mauritanian and a Moroccan who are all three gays and are internal like me. To have a little money, I began working in parallel to my studies. Managers of restaurants and nightclubs welcome me warmly when they suspect that I’m gay, and I become a slave. At first, I like to have sexual partners, but, over time, managers require me to have sex with anyone, old gays over 60 years, young gay … I get a minor “sex machine” and I’m not allowed to choose my partners. Morocco should thank me because I have greatly contributed to the development of tourism (sexual). But meanwhile, I have great difficulty in school because of our hotel strip 4. We have no right to spend the night in the same room, not allowed to be in the showers at the same time, not to mention insults, attacks and threats. I received several threats from strangers, and we are constantly in fear of the school, which means to make us suffer (chores, housework, the prohibition of the major outputs of the week ends, no assignment of course …). The Director of Studies has always prevented him from passing the interview to work outside of Morocco, he did not want me going maintenance to Orlando Disneyland when I was the best in my class in English as I gave a degree in Languages Specialization … Life in the boarding school became a nightmare: insults, theft, verbal and physical attacks, threats are increasing more and more. I can not stand. I get my BTS. I have the opportunity to continue my studies to a professional license, except that I was threatening to kill me if I choose to pursue. The worst is that I can not even complain, because the Moroccan penal code can put me in jail.
October 2006: I came to Casablanca. I have some money to rent a room in a neighborhood. A neighborhood where you do not laugh. If people know you’re gay, you’re dead. I could not find work in tourism. I must say that I have not really tried to work in this area because I know I will be used again as a “sex machine”. I work in a call center where I do my best so that people do not know that I am gay. Young girls often offer me to go out, travel, make love, and I refused each time. I tell them I’ma good Muslim and that is why I refuse to go girls …
2007: I’m still working in the same call center. I spend a moment without having sex. I am exhausted. Finally, I met a gay that I invite to come to me fatal error. The neighbors hear our groans and surprise us: We are hitting, they take me all that I have in the room: money, mobile, TV, computer … The good Lord wanted us to stay alive. Since then, the one with whom I had the report refuses to talk to me. I then found again homeless and without money. So I have found a new home. At the same time, I have problems to work with bearded suspect that I am gay. They start to harass me, and I am now rejected by all the young men. The degree of tension has increased as I am afraid that something happens to me. I ended up resigning in October 2007.
2008: I started a new job in another call center. And there, I have no problems and I even found a partner, a French national who was the associate director of the center. We are together all the time. In short, my life is finally stable. Until my partner told me he wants to leave Morocco to return to Toulon. It starts in May. In July, when I need Social Security documents, I discovered to my surprise that I was never told by my new employer. When I claim my rights to the new Director, warning of my intention to go to an inspector of work, he threatened me to publish my videos on the net with my French partner. I did not know he knew our relationship. So I let down, and I leave the job without being able to claim my rights …
2009: I have started a new job. And again, I do my best not to disclose my sexual orientation. As in other companies, I find myself alone with people who reject me, insult me young men and girls make fun of me in every way possible. I head for the virtual world, internet, trying to find partners, and in June, I met one. After several days of conversation on the net and a meeting he invited me home. He put something in the drink he gave me and I lose consciousness. In fact, he raped me and he began to threaten me to publish the videos and make me sing. He knows where I work, where I live … And for the third time I resigned from my job. I am totally desperate and I really think about suicide. Will I ever have a normal life? I then seven months without working. I only think about what I can do with my life.
2010: In January, I started seeing a psychologist, at least for someone to admit that I’m gay without fear. The psychologist suggests I try to leave Morocco. And since that time, I think only this: Escaping my country! I got a job in April 2010, a job in which I spoke to no one for not having a problem. And I rented a small room in a neighborhood to save money for my trip.
I have not had sex for over a year and a half, and recently, I started receiving threatening text messages, and Facebook, but I still can not complain … I have not seen my parents for over 4 years. My father told me I was ashamed of his life and if one day he passed me, he would kill me without regret, and I was not a son.
Source – blogs.tetu.com
Translated from French
