We are walking across London. All 32 boroughs. 2,500 miles. One of us moving forward, the other moving backwards.
This is not a metaphor. It is our daily reality for the next 210 days. We are “Two Refugees Walking”: queer, African, displaced and determined. We walk for those who can’t; for those still trapped in systems that criminalise identity; for those left behind by borders and bureaucracy. We walk to be seen.
I’m Joel, a Nigerian LGBT+ rights activist and a refugee. I walk backwards to honour lives lost to regressive laws, to detention, and to indifference. My backward steps represent the regressive policies that continue to silence LGBT+ voices worldwide: the Same-Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act in Nigeria, Uganda’s anti-LGBT+ laws, the UK’s ongoing detention of asylum seekers – many of us queer, traumatised and unsupported.
Walking backwards is not easy. It disorients you, drains you and demands faith in the unseen. Much like being a refugee.
I’m Amanda, a trans activist from Uganda. I walk forwards. For all of us who keep rising, building and resisting. For the trans women killed in silence. For queer refugees who survive only to be re-traumatised by the systems meant to protect them. For those navigating asylum with only their truth and a sliver of hope.
Together, we are walking across London – an act of defiance to raise awareness and funds for four refugee-focused charities: UK for UNHCR, Rainbow Migration, Safe Passage International, and our organisation, the Minority Inclusion Foundation UK (MIF UK). These organisations do vital work supporting LGBT+ refugees and advocating for safer, more just asylum processes.
But this walk isn’t just a fundraiser. It’s a political act. A statement. A testimony.
Our journey is inspired by the humanitarian legacy of Diana, Princess of Wales, and in memory of my late sister, Nwanne MaryJane Ikechi (née Mordi), who died from an asthma attack after managing the illness all her young and adult life. We walk for her. For the refugees who’ve died in detention centres. For the ones who never made it to the border. And for those still waiting.
Refugee Week is meant to be about celebration and solidarity, but too often it feels like a performance rather than a platform. “Two Refugees Walking” is our way of reclaiming space – literally and symbolically. As we pass through each borough, we engage with communities, attend local events and share our stories. We don’t walk quietly. We walk with purpose.
What we’ve found so far is that people want to listen, but they don’t always know how. So, we show them: with our feet, our voices, our tears and our joy. We talk about what it means to be queer and displaced. To be both survivor and leader. We highlight campaigns like “No Pride in Detention” and “Safe Routes Save Lives” because they are not just slogans – they are lifelines, as we encourage strangers to walk a mile or two in our shoes.
There’s something radical about walking. It resists the speed of the world, forces people to slow down and notice. When people see Amanda walking forward and me walking backwards, they stop. They ask. They learn. That’s how change begins. Although we are putting ourselves out there, amid growing bigotry, homophobia and transphobia, that’s defiance. Come what may, we will not cower in fear, and we refuse to be silenced or erased. It is a legacy of our ancestors and transcestors that we must uphold – and pay forward.
Our walk also celebrates our communities – queer, African, refugee, disabled, marginalised – and the power we hold when we move together. Every step we take is also a call: to MPs, policymakers and the public. End LGBTQ+ detention. Fund refugee-led organisations. Listen to those who live the policies you debate.
Through our charity, MIF UK, we’re building something beyond the walk: a leadership platform, a storytelling programme and community events that amplify the voices of people who are too often spoken for, but rarely spoken with.
We’ve been supported by Givestar, Rainbow Migration, Nothing, Safe Passage and the Diana Legacy Award, among others. But more than sponsorship, we need solidarity.
To those watching: don’t just admire our journey. Walk with us. Use your voice. Share our stories. Donate if you can. Challenge the narratives that make it easier to detain, deport, or dismiss queer refugees.
This Refugee Week, we’re asking everyone to consider: what direction are you walking in? Are you moving toward justice, or turning your back on it?
We are Two Refugees Walking (@TwoRefugeesWalking) – forward and backwards, but always together.
Follow our journey and support the cause: https://givestar.io/gs/backward-is-my-reality
Why are we slashing foreign aid when it can help stop the boats?
This is what the world looks like when America is weak
How the ‘big, beautiful’ UK-US trade deal led to a big, beautiful friendship
The victims of grooming gangs deserve justice – at long last, they may get it
Why it’s never been more important to decriminalise abortion
The City’s U-turn on WFH tells you everything you need to know about bad bosses
