Audrey Ithibu Mbugua is the epitome of the prolonged search for true self.
From fierce court battles and scathing social media attacks to being called mad, she has seen it all ever since she decided to change her gender in 2012.
It is a journey that has made her the face of the campaign for the recognition of transgender rights in Kenya.
Her labour has finally borne fruit, as all her identification and academic documents have been changed from ‘Andrew’ to ‘Audrey’.
She also visits women’s bathrooms and associates with them more comfortably than before.
She now has a great sense of fulfilment, is comfortable in her skin and guess what? She is dating! “I am dating and I am happy,” says a giggly Audrey.
NO LABELS, PLEASE
She does not divulge the gender or identity of her partner, only saying that it is someone who views her as a woman and that they are “cool” together.
“I like people for who they are, not because of their gender. I am not interested in the gender of my sex partners. I don’t identify as bisexual, gay or lesbian. I just think sexual labels complicate matters of love and sex,” says the transgender activist.
Audrey has been on the female hormone oestrogen on and off for 12 years.
From her high-pitched voice and growth of breasts and other physical changes to using feminine cosmetics, she now fully passes for a woman, save for the legal barriers that have curtailed her bid to undergo surgery to change her organs.
“Were all these struggles of transforming from man to woman worth it?” I ask. She responds in the affirmative.
WORTHWHILE FIGHT
Andrew, an identity she held from childhood and throughout teenage, suddenly sounds strange and even annoying.
Damn the name that weighed her down! It was a male name, yet everyone around her could see she was female in mannerism, gesturing, her gracious walk and, most importantly, her feelings.
She says being male denied her visas and jobs, drew her insults and unprecedented public stares and turned her world upside down to the point of her attempting suicide, before embarking on a sex-change process. She now looks her name.
Her latest victory came in mid-September, when the Kenya National Examinations Council finally issued her with a new Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education certificate with her rightful name, Audrey Ithibu Mbugua, although she is still not comfortable with the altering of gender marker box from male (M) to a variable character denoted as one (1).
She wanted that section blank as the court had ordered.
“Despite that, I am now a very happy woman. All my struggles have finally paid off, not only for me but I am able to assist tens of other ladyboys who are struggling with a similar predicament. I am their mother; they call me Mama T (Transgender),” Audrey tells the Nation.
IDENTITY TRAP
Flashback 1984, Ndumberi, Kiambu County: A bright, bubbly boy was born to loving parents who named him Andrew.
In a family of five — two brothers and two sisters — he had a normal and exciting childhood.
Andrew attended Kiambu Boys High School, where he sat KCSE in 2001 and scored a mean grade of A- (minus) before proceeding to Maseno University, where he graduated in 2006 with a Bachelor of Science in Biomedical Sciences, specialising in medical biotechnology.
She had refused to study law at the University of Nairobi. Now, she is studying for a master’s degree in information systems at KCA University in Nairobi.
Although she had male organs and indeed socialised as a boy, she says that as she grew up she felt deep inside that she was a woman trapped in the body of a man.
Andrew recognised himself as a woman but battled with the feelings, afraid to let anyone know. It was at the age of 19 that her real identity as a woman was defined and she began working towards becoming one.
“I have suffered depression almost all my life. The struggle to be someone that I am not in a conservative society has been a horrendous journey,” Audrey says.
HORMONAL SHIFTS
She believes gender is what is between the ears and not what is between the legs.
A pleasant person, Audrey’s tone keeps changing from mellow to hyper then melancholic as she narrates her moving life story.
She occasionally breaks into laughter that seemed to echo the message, “I can’t believe I have been through this.”
She says one of the greatest challenges of dealing with the Kenyan society is that people are highly opinionated on issues they know nothing about.
She wonders why people treat transgender people harshly, yet it is a quality as natural as being born short or dark-complexioned.
The transformation from woman to man or vice versa is dictated by changes in male (testosterone) and female (oestrogen) hormones, unlike sexual orientation, where biological hormones play a less significant role.
In her case, oestrogen overpowered testosterone, and she felt the burning desire to plait hair instead of shaving it, and other feminine characteristics.
Too timid to speak up and defeated to suppress it, she went ahead to overhaul her wardrobe, filling it with feminine attire.
LIVING MY LIFE
She had succeeded in passing a message — a confusing one while at it. That is how she fell out with her parents.
They thought she was being rebellious but there was more to it, as a doctor would later explain. Her father collapsed on learning that she was transgender.
“I haven’t talked to my parents for years. But wherever they are, I know they still love me. I appreciate everything they have done for me, but I had to live my life and them theirs,” she says, sounding melancholy.
Her friends from university and even home viewed her stand as obnoxious and shunned her completely, thinking she was either bewitched or running mad from reading too much.
Others thought she was gay. “After agonising, I asked myself, ‘so what would being in good terms with them add to my life?’ There is always an expiry date for pleasing parents and the society.
What matters is that I am happier now and the only thing I can do is make life better for my transgender daughters and sons, sisters and brothers. They are now my family, my species,” she said.
Her siblings are however more accommodating, now acknowledging her as a sister, and her nieces and nephews calling her aunt.
In January 2012, by gazette notice Ms Mbugua published by a deed poll, she renounced the name Andrew and assumed Audrey Ithibu Mbugua.
BATTLE WITH KNEC
She then wrote to Knec requesting to effect the changes to her certificate.
The council at first appeared to agree but later dismissed her request, forcing her to move to court.
She later appealed and won, prompting the exams body to award her new certificates in September.
The highly-publicised court battles seem to have set her apart as a transgender activist.
She now runs a lobby, Transgender Education and Advocacy, which supports nearly 100 transgender Kenyans and educates the public about the topic.
She receives overwhelming calls from parents of transgender and intersex children, whom she refers to professionals.
She says it is better to die doing the human-rights work than to live an unfulfilling life enslaved in a gender one does not belong.
“My work in the transgender movement took me away from my studies and passion. I am dropping a lot of travel and work to create room for other important initiatives in my life. I just wish other transgender people would take up some of this work,” she says.
“There is no one to pass the mantle to. I know it is hard to do what I do but life is about taking challenges and fixing problems” says Ms Mbugua.
ROLLER-COASTER LIFE
Before she got a change of name, her life had been full of confusion.
She had to explain herself at every instance she produced her identification documents because she looked feminine but carried documents with a male name and mark.
She was sent away innumerable times at job interviews, while conducting M-Pesa transactions at shops and even from embassies.
She recalls a time when police arrested her in an operation in Nakuru Town and upon producing her ID, they marvelled and questioned her intently.
“On arrival at the police station, they were confused on whether to lock me up in the male or female section,” she says.
Amid her protests, one officer thrust their hand into her trouser and patted her private parts. Her eyeglasses broke in the fracas.
Earlier in university, one student reported to the dean of students that one of his roommates had been hosting his girlfriend in the hostel for long.
The ‘girlfriend’ was Audrey (then Andrew). She was summoned and upon explaining her predicament, the university offered her moral support.
Even strangers who met her once on the streets would verbally attack her for being a “weirdo”.
FINDING STRENGTH
Among the myths she has heard is that transgender people go abroad for leisure, or that they are dumb people who didn’t get anywhere academically.
On the contrary, she travelled more for business, and is finding her footing back in biomedical sciences.
“My life as a transgender woman in rural Kenya has guaranteed me a torrent of amazing experiences. Sadly, the ugly and traumatising experiences form a bulk of these. Fortunately, they have made me aware of our ability to endure adversities. Dig in, never give up,” she posted on Twitter.
Audrey is now a celebrity, getting several requests for selfies (snapshots) whenever she attends events.
She submits to those she considers genuine fans while there are times she fears for her safety and stays aloof.
Asked whether they have an ambition of starting a family, she gently responds that the Constitution provides for that option, and “if God wills, well and good”.