At WorldPride in DC, Namibian activist Omar van Reenen shares how drag, defiance, and solidarity fuel queer resistance—and why global support must move from charity to solidarity to confront rising anti-LGBTQIA+ backlash.

We interviewed Omar van Reenen, the Co-Founder and Campaign Manager of Namibia Equal Rights Movement, when they came to WorldPride in Washington, DC.
Part of the Trump administration’s attacks on civil society has been a massive withdrawal from supporting it globally. Has this had any effects on your work already? Are there any that you are predicting?
Yes, we’ve already felt the ripple effects of the Trump-era rollback on civil society support, particularly in reduced funding pipelines for LGBTQI+ human rights work in the Global South. It emboldened anti-rights actors, many of whom took their cues from the resurgence of US-based religious fundamentalism. While some philanthropic support has since rebounded, the trust deficit and shrinking civic space remain. We predict that unless this gap is filled with long-term, flexible, and political funding rooted in solidarity, not charity, the risk of further criminalisation and state-sanctioned homophobia will deepen in countries like Namibia.
What political headwinds to LGBTQIA+ rights face in Africa currently? And what form is resistance taking?
Across Africa, the anti-gender movement is gaining traction, with coordinated legislative attacks—from Uganda's draconian Anti-Homosexuality Act to Namibia’s exclusionary Marriage Act and civil registration reforms seeking to erase trans persons and their existence. These are often framed as “anti-Western” but are rooted in colonial legacies and transnational conservative influence. Resistance is multifaceted: we’re taking to the streets, to the courts, to the culture. Young queer Africans are building coalitions, reclaiming Indigenous queer narratives, challenging misinformation, and using digital and artistic spaces, like drag, music, and visual/digital protest, as frontline tools of defiance and education.
What role does drag play in building international solidarity for LGBTQIA+ people? How do you see it advancing human rights in your individual contexts?
Drag is not just performance, it’s political pedagogy. In our Namibian context, drag has become a tool for queer visibility, civic engagement, and resistance. Through international platforms like WorldPride and African youth-led collaborations like Drag Beyond Borders, drag connects our struggles, turning cultural exchange into cross-border coalition-building. It reminds us that liberation isn’t a luxury of the Global North, it’s a global demand, rooted in joy, resistance, and collective imagination. Drag tells the world: we are here, we are powerful, and our bodies are not up for debate.
What strategies have you found work to create and protect queer spaces - like drag nights - in your individual contexts?
We’ve learned that sustainability is key. Creating safe queer spaces like Drag Night Namibia requires more than just events, it’s about cultivating community, training local artists, partnering with allies (like feminist cafés and allied embassies), and certifying venues as “safe spaces.” We use hybrid strategies: legal literacy, social media visibility, and grassroots organising. Most importantly, we center joy and autonomy. In a hostile environment, our drag nights aren’t just parties, they are acts of survival and spaces of collective healing.
Here in DC, you’re performing multiple times - but also meeting with other groups. What are you most excited about, and what do you want to take home?
What excites me most is the convergence: of art, advocacy, and global queer kinship. Performing in DC allows us to bring the spirit of African queer resilience to the world stage, but it’s the behind-the-scenes solidarity with other groups that fuels me. I’m eager to share strategies, build partnerships, and learn from other collectives about sustaining resistance under pressure. What I want to take home is a renewed sense of global purpose, and to show my community back home that we are not alone in this fight.