My Morocco,
Once again, I am writing you a letter. I wish I could tell you that I love you, or thank you, or tell you that I'm proud of you. But it seems that you're better at hurting us than at making us proud.
My Morocco, I woke up this morning full of horror. Once again, your people, your children, have succeeded at generating fear. We are overcome with despair, thinking of all the ways you have changed. Has the sun of kindness, generosity and humanity left your sky? Is this country, which claims to be democratic, succumbing to the very strand of hate that is celebrated by ISIS?
Two men. Two citizens. Two human beings have been beaten, almost killed, under your roof. They were simply celebrating their love, at their home, behind closed doors, when a group of people decided to enforce the laws of a God they seem to know better than the rest of us. The two naked men found themselves dressed in blood. Their arms tried to deflect incoming blows. The two naked men found themselves smothered with insults before being thrown out on the street.
Is this the image you're trying to project? That of a barren, praying, begging country? What image are you offering the world with such behavior?
My Morocco, you are a parent to these people. You're responsible for them. If this is where we are today, then we are your victims. We can talk about the education that you give us, we can talk about the frustrations we have experienced at your hands. We can talk about a lot of things you've done in the past, the fruits of which we've tasted in recent years. But to what end?
Two men. Two citizens. Two human beings have been beaten, almost killed, under your roof.
In today's Morocco, you can't be different. It is too risky to be gay. We are not allowed to love. Today, we can't even feel safe at home. It's not just your streets anymore.
Today two men were making love in the privacy of their home, when this terrorist pack decided to violate their love. Is it really that wrong, for two men, or two women to love each other? What are you trying to teach your citizens? Do you know that there is a significant number of gay Moroccans and that you can't deny their existence? Do you know that the Internet has opened our doors? We are no longer alone. Today, the gay community is waking up, it's free. It's afraid, it's forced to hide, but it's there, behind the screens. And it's frustrated because you have made it believe that it is living in sin. With your laws, with your education, and what you make your people believe.
Do you know the number of young boys who like other boys? Do you know the number of girls who like other girls? They are Moroccans, too. They are human beings. They are your children. They ensure the development of your land, your economy. They also consider themselves to be Moroccans -- even if that is sometimes difficult to do. They have walked your streets, reclaimed your Sahara. Perhaps, they have even chanted for "God, Morocco, and the King."
But how do you expect these young people to be honest, sincere? When "God" promises them hell? When their country promises to send them to prison? When the King does not repeal a law that criminalizes them? Give me a reason to say, "I am proud to be Moroccan." Give me a reason to tell people: "You must visit my country." How can I speak of your beauty without appearing hypocritical? Am I really in love with you, really proud of you, or am I stuck in a nostalgia for my childhood home? For a country that I saw that through the carefree eyes of a child?
It's been three years since I left you. From afar, my affection towards you grew stronger. My love for you has become more sincere. My hatred towards you has subsided. My fear of you has faded. But do you know why? Because I've had the chance to see something else. To live something else. Breathe a different air. Sing new tunes. Dream. Today, I can dream of simple things, like love: To be loved, without fear. Fear that I would become a topic of conversation, that people would judge me, or send me to jail. Yet I have never done anything wrong. I've paid my taxes, helped others, cleaned your streets, encouraged tourism, and chanted for your sovereignty.
In today's Morocco, you can't be different. It is too risky to be gay. We are not allowed to love. Today, we can't even feel safe at home.
I am a Moroccan, just like everyone else. But I have always been, and still am, treated as a second-class citizen. I am worth nothing, and I have no rights.
Those two men are the same as me. They can't even be happy behind closed doors. They have been humiliated and abused. Everyone will know who they are. What should they do now? Because they will almost certainly go to jail -- if not literally, then at least figuratively. They will be stuck in a society that will judge them, spy on them, and threaten them.
What can they do? Fight a society that hates them? Commit suicide because they are worth nothing? Leave? Is this what you want? For all those who are discriminated against to leave your land? In that case, you would be left all alone: We are all your victims. That's why we attack the weakest among us. That's why gay people are easy prey -- because if they speak up, complain, or step out of line, they risk going to jail.
There is also your government which, instead of focusing on the real issues, the real problems, opts for the easy way out. Instead of providing education, health and protection for its people, the government is closing hookah bars.
It is also your associations' mistake. They claim to defend human rights, but instead of doing their job, they pick easy battles. They looking for money from both the right and the left, and they avoid taboos, seeking only benefits, travel, and ephemeral recognition. They stroke your ego and do nothing.
But above all, it is the mistake of Moroccan gays, who are still hiding, and who prefer to live in the dark, out of fear. They hide instead of trying to prove that there is a significant gay community, and that being gay is not a disease, or a sin, or an oddity.
As long as Moroccan gays, from the youngest to those in the highest echelons of society, remain hidden, the cases of Beni Mellal, Fez, Tétouan, Lksar Lekbir, Casablanca, Salé and the other victims of homophobia will stand out as exceptions.
The Moroccan LGBT community needs to stop justifying this fear. It must speak up instead of hiding. Our society will never change if it continues to believe this community doesn't exist.
You have to earn rights and freedom. They don't just appear. The others won't fight for our rights if we don't mobilize ourselves. Our rights and freedoms are not guaranteed. And they never will be. And if, my Morocco, your gays and lesbians don't put their testicles and ovaries on the table, if they continue to justify the unjustifiable, to hid behind the characters the society thinks they are, they will continue to be beaten and abused.
I think, my Morocco, that you're not solely to blame. Gay people need to move if they want change. They must find a way. Nothing changes until you decide to change it. Minorities who consider themselves as victims will continue to be treated as such. Maybe things will change. But until that happens, I will cease to be surprised when such attacks happen.
My Morocco,
I will not blame you. I will continue to love you as one loves his parents, despite their faults. But I love you from afar. And this way, we will both be happy.
This post first appeared on HuffPost Morocco. It has been translated into English and edited for clarity.