Rest is an act of resistance. In early July, a small group of trans activists from across Africa gathered in the peaceful embrace of a lodge in one of Kenya’s most serene landscapes to slow down, reflect, reconnect, and simply be. For six days, this space became their shared sanctuary. We invited them to come as they were, to gently set aside the weight of advocacy, life’s relentless demands, and the heavy toll of pushing back against rising anti-gender threats across our continent.
What unfolded was nothing short of transformative.
We live in a world that relentlessly demands productivity, where human worth is often reduced to our productive capacity. These systems not only erode humanity but also transform time into a privilege reserved for the few, leaving marginalised communities, particularly the trans community who are on the margins of the margin, to navigate complex personal and professional circumstances with limited resources for rest, reflection and restoration.
That’s why this retreat mattered.
From the outset, it was clear how unfamiliar rest had become. Some participants arrived excited, others unsure, even sceptical. Many asked for a programme, a schedule—anything that would make them feel they were using their time “productively.” But as the days unfolded, and the pressure to perform slowly gave way to presence, something shifted. Through this gift of space and time, trust began to grow. Stillness became sacred.
“I was uncomfortable with the silence and emotions in the space and wanted to rush through things,” one participant reflected, “but I am grateful for the space and time to reflect deeper on the things I do and why. I am thankful for a space where I can be held and hold others and sit with the discomfort of the emotions.”
In this space, participants discovered they could bear witness to each other. They could slow down enough to humanise themselves and find a connectedness that surpassed language and borders.
A Space Beyond Performance
What appeared to be simple rest and reflection was actually profound resistance. Every opportunity for unhurried conversation, every moment free from performance, every opportunity to show up at their own pace was an invitation to be their authentic selves.
“This has been a space where I could take my armour off and not have to self-police my voice or appearance” one participant shared.
The transformation was perhaps most visible in how stories were shared. We are often in gatherings that require us to fight to be heard, where we have to shrink our stories into bite sizes, to package our stories not for ourselves but to convince others of our humanity or get funding.
But, being in spaces like those we created during the retreat – where you can tell your story at your own pace without interruption – amplifies your inner voice and affirms your value as intrinsic, not something that has to be performed to matter. One participant shared, “this is a space where I don’t have to worry about having the right politics. I have learnt to be silent in spaces of gathering out of fear of saying the wrong thing. Here I can get it wrong and it doesn’t become the end of the world.”
The Power of Love and Collective Care
Through all the complexity, the multilayered daily violences experienced and shared, the pain, all the systems that needed challenging, one truth emerged clearly: love. Love for friends, for parents, for community. Love for the younger generation, and perhaps most importantly, learning to love ourselves—a love that saved us. This love became the foundation for transforming relationships that had been sources of pain into spaces of healing and support.
Building Infrastructures of Liberation
Ten stories were told, each different, yet woven together by a common thread: when trans communities are given the space and time to rest—not as a luxury, but as a recognition of their inherent worth—transformation becomes possible. Not just individual healing, but collective restoration. Not just personal growth, but community regeneration. Not just surviving the current systems, but imagining and building alternatives.
This sacred space allowed for deeper questions to emerge. Questions about how to lead toward dignity, transformation, healing, and impact. Questions about how to build infrastructures of care that are fit for purpose. Questions about how to practice liberation now, in this moment, in these bodies, in these communities.
It is a call to remember that the wisdom, experience, and capacity that emerge from marginalised communities when provided with appropriate space, time, and rest represent invaluable resources for building a more just and humane world.
Furthermore, though large-scale interventions are needed, our time together showed that the depth of engagement matters more than scale of impact. The qualitative disposition that emerges from slowing down creates possibilities for restoration, regeneration of vision, and renewal of courage that cannot be achieved through hurried, large-scale interventions.
A Call to Remember
This retreat was never meant to be a break from the work. It was the work.
By intentionally slowing down and creating space for deep reflection and connection, we’re not just providing respite – we’re challenging fundamental power structures that determine who gets to rest and who must remain in constant motion just to survive.
In the midst of the chaos, grotesque violence, rising anti-human rights movement and hopelessness, this retreat allowed participants to pause time and experience the full spectrum of the human experience where fun and play were included as models of rest and retreat.
