Living in the UK, I finally feel safe enough to be myself

As a child, I loved everything about beauty and fashion (Picture: Amanda Kamanda)

‘I can now tell you that you are our first ever Miss Trans Global Uganda finalist – congratulations!’

As soon as I heard this news in 2022 via Zoom, I screamed with delight. I had made it to the top seven of the global pageant and I couldn’t be more proud.  

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!’ I shouted with joy and thanks.

As a child, I loved everything about beauty and fashion, but I could never fully express this because I’m a transgender woman from Uganda. 

Although being trans is not explicitly banned in the country, people like me are essentially in legal limbo and discrimination is widespread. As a result, I felt like my dreams to explore creative arts were suffocated and I was forced to assimilate. 

I devoted my time and energy into graduating (Picture: Stuart/@beguilingfaces/Instagram)

I went to a Catholic school, which had a strict dress code. On top of that, I suffered through non-inclusive sex education, anti-LGBTQ+ religious sermons in church, and a derogatory media landscape. 

I decided I needed to prioritise a roof over my head before anything else. That meant that I sacrificed expressing or exploring my gender identity publicly. 

In order to find a sense of LGBTQ+ community, I created a fake profile on social media and joined an anonymous private group of similar people who were brave enough to express themselves online. Gradually, we started meeting each other secretly, despite living in the closet. 

I couldn’t really cross-dress in public with my new friends because I was scared of being outed, but I also didn’t fit into the straight world either. So I felt stuck and unsafe, which impacted my emotional wellbeing. 

I devoted my time and energy into graduating. 

In June 2022, I attended my first Pride parade in London (Picture: Amanda Kamanda)

After that, I applied for a Commonwealth Shared Scholarship, which is a fully-funded scholarship from the British Government.

Two months later, I was delighted to find out that my application was successful, so I moved to the UK in 2021 to study a Masters at the University of Bath. 

Life after I came to the UK was liberating. Compared to Uganda, British cities embrace diversity from all walks of life.

I watched TV shows that included trans people like Pose on BBC iPlayer. I also revamped my skincare routine and changed my wardrobe from a masculine to feminine aesthetic. 

I had the gender marker on legal documents changed and explored the nightlife of LGBTQ+ bars across the UK with a community of people just like me.

Then in June 2022, I attended my first Pride parade in London and I was completely blown away by everyone proudly celebrating their identities. I was also pleasantly surprised by the support from the state in having police protection, endorsement from the mayor, and various companies marching in comradeship.

None of these things would be possible in my home country.  

It was around this time that I stumbled across a Facebook post about a pageant called Miss Trans Global and was immediately interested in applying. Now that I was in the UK, I finally felt safe enough to be visible and express my true self.

I had to send an audition tape talking about myself and why I wanted to compete in the pageant. ‘I want to challenge stereotypes about femininity,’ I said in the video, ‘and I want to represent my country, Uganda.’ 

I also had an interview with a panel of judges. In the lead up to the event, I made sure to learn how to walk confidently, practice public speaking, apply makeup, and show polished etiquette.

The whole event was so special to me (Picture: Amanda Kamanda)

The pageant was intense from the very start – even though it all took place online due to Covid-19 restrictions.

For the evening ball gown category, I walked in an elegant rose pink lace long prom dress as the crowds cheered via live streaming platforms like YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram.

Throughout it all, I was nervous but also excited, since I was the first to represent Uganda. In the end, I won ‘Third Princess Global’ and ‘Inspirational Queen of the Year’, which I was thrilled with.

The whole event was so special to me because it was an opportunity to celebrate our unique traits of beauty and gender expression in a world that forces us to live in fear or shame about our bodies.

Personally, participating in a beauty pageant helped me find my feminine charm and confidence – something I’ve taken with me ever since. 

This newfound confidence helped me be proactive at university and I got elected as the campaign officer for the LGBTQ+ students club in 2022. I also started my medical transition that year, which is exciting, although comes with its own challenges. 

But being so open about my identity has had its downsides, leading me to getting outed in my home country. 

My family and friends back at home found out I was transgender through social media, and were initially furious. Some cut ties.

The pageant changed my life (Picture: Amanda Kamanda)

Later, a few gradually became more accepting and looked to reconcile. But most people I knew still remain negative about my identity.

As a result, it’s no longer safe for me to return to Uganda. So I had to apply for asylum and was granted the right to remain in the UK in 2023. 

Besides that, life for me has been joyful as I have grown more in my career – working in the charity sector where I have co-founded a charity organisation called Minority Inclusion Foundation (which supports LGBTQ+ refugees) and even modelled in magazines, too.

I am also an ambassador for Refugee Week UK 2025, which is the largest arts and culture festival celebrating the contributions, creativity, and resilience of refugees worldwide.  

From competing as Miss Trans Global Uganda, I learnt to conquer my fears about myself. The pageant changed my life by pushing me out of my comfort zone to a place of growth. 

It helped me change my geographical location, physical appearance, career and community, but most importantly the relationship I had with myself.