2024 marked the eighth edition of Prishtina’s annual Pride Parade. The week leading up the parade, which took place on June 8, 2024, was filled with diverse artistic and cultural activities, activism and unconventional entertainment. Hundreds participants, including members of the LGBTIQ+ communities, allies and political representatives joined together. In a well-coordinated event, the latter led the colorful crowd at Zahir Pajaziti square, holding the parade’s main banner, which read, “We were here and we will always be here.”
Meanwhile, Qerkica, an icon of the transgender community, playfully danced in front of the marchers, catching them by surprise. These moments continued all the way to the grounds of the National Library where the march concluded. The politicians departed and the party began.
On the surface, it appears to be a joyful celebration of human existence and diversity, marked by solidarity, gratitude and complete coexistence. But if we look a little closer, beyond the flashing cameras, we find the true stories of survival in conditions that are far from favorable.
With each step, the politicians carried the weight and colors of the parade. Others in the march bore the Palestinian flag, calling for freedom and an end to the Israeli government’s genocide against the people of Palestine.
Amid the crowd, structural discrimination remains hidden, revealing the true resistance of marginalized communities. These communities must address systemic gaps themselves, despite facing work overload, mental exhaustion and lack of institutional recognition. Over these past eight years of public demonstrations through parades, the challenge has been not only to confront the widespread discrimination but also to foster educational change from the ground up.
Until the politicians took to the streets in 2024, activists had worked for years to gain public and political support. Until a few years ago, there was still a reluctance to display the LGBTIQ+ flag in the government building in solidarity with the community’s efforts. We must look beyond the brilliant refractions off the rainbow flag to the cracks where shadows gather, into the heart of the crowd.
Beyond the light
He wasn’t late for the meeting, although he told me he had to rush to make it on time after babysitting for a family member. We met at Bubble Pub, which has now been open for two years in Prishtina, a safe harbor for the queer community. With him, even busy conversations felt effortlessly light. Our conversation followed an organic trajectory, discussing the year 2023, language and hate crimes against LGBTIQ+ people, issues in which he himself had been involved.
As a transgender man, Lend Mustafa has experienced episodic violence. He told me about an incident in November 2023, when, after facing hate on social media, he was threatened and almost run over by a car in broad daylight in Prishtina. This event, which he reported to the police, is just one out of several incidents he has reported.
“Not only for ourselves but also for other members of the community, we often went [to the police] with files and facts collected by us. This is because several times after we reported these cases, the prosecution did not pursue them due to a lack of evidence,” he said.
Similarly, the Center for Equality and Liberty (CEL), an organization that works in the field of LGBTIQ+ rights, reported that throughout 2023, dozens of cases of hate speech, privacy violations, violence and discrimination were brought to their attention. Additionally, members of the community sought CEL’s assistance in legally prosecuting pending violations within security and justice institutions, as well as in cases where LGBTIQ+ individuals were denied name and sex marker changes by the Civil Registration Agency.
These delays in the justice system experienced by the LGBTIQ+ community create uncertainty and discourage the reporting of violence. This highlights the structural discrimination that strengthens justice institutions’ complicity. To address this, CEL is preparing a study that will shed light on the specific systemic gaps in the treatment of cases involving LGBTIQ+ individuals.
Amid traumatic events that threaten life and mental well-being, individuals like Mustafa must also conduct investigative work to validate their experiences of violence and crimes against them. Only in this way can victims’ reports gain enough “importance” to be pursued further by institutions.
“At first, I thought it was funny, wanting to believe it was a dog. I thought a dog had peed on my doorstep. Or maybe not? Then I remembered that you need an access card to enter the building where we live,” Mustafa said, recounting his experience of persecution.
This time, I noticed the bitterness behind his attempt at a smile, as if to show that he had overcome the magnitude of this experience after these repeated humiliations. As he gestured, as if to dispel the lingering shadows of events that had literally encroached on his doorstep — not when he came out with his gender identity — he explained that these acts had been constant and not sporadic. Since he moved into his current apartment, neighbors he describes as “a group of young men,” have ensured that he never felt comfortable in his own home. They shouted hateful comments from their balcony, left signs on his door and recently even peed on his doorstep.
As if this wasn’t enough, Mustafa and his queer friends have also faced manifestations of hate when establishing Bubble Pub. Mustafa explained that one resident of their building in particular, has repeatedly tried to assert power by sabotaging the bar’s activities. This includes cutting off the water supply and gathering other neighbors to intimidate him.
“Fortunately, at the beginning of Bubble, the Prishtina police unit came within minutes several times when we needed them. This helped tire out [the neighbors] because they had no choice but to leave us alone,” he said. “We were here and we will continue to be here. And we don’t intend to be silent or patient. We truly know that we are stronger because we have endured everything. Just imagine if we had more support and seriousness from the institutions that owe us a guarantee of security for life.” He naturally connects his storytelling to questions about structural oppression, the role of the state in the human rights landscape and imagining a place where he and other marginalized people would feel protected.
Human rights except for the most marginalized
For people like Mustafa, proper state protection remains only a dream. Duda Balje, the head of the legislative commission responsible for human rights and gender equality, uses her right to a different opinion to complain, opposing marriage between same sex individuals, which the Civil Code includes. Ironically, she self-legitimizes her role, actively undermining human rights.
Morina, an activist, transgender man and director of CEL, sharply criticized Balje in a public televised debate. Balje responded disdainfully, dismissing his concerns and stating that the commission she represents is too busy with other matters. This response blatantly contradicts citizens’ rights to dignified treatment and equal access to civil and legal life. In 2023, at least three known cases of LGBTIQ+ individuals sought help through CEL in the process of seeking asylum and leaving the country.
What does this reveal about the climate of diversity, democracy and human rights in Kosovo?
More than two years have passed since the Civil Code was submitted to the Kosovo Assembly, yet it has still not been voted on. Progress has stalled, with the reading of the code in parliament continually delayed. This procrastination is accompanied by derogatory language from both majority and opposition MPs, who often hurl harsh accusations against the LGBTIQ+ communities. The so-called guardians of social morality, who hold decision-making power and strictly adhere to heteronormative principles, oppose Article 1138, which provides a legal framework for same-sex civil unions.
The polarization of public discussion by the Parliament of Kosovo does not occur in isolation. The delay in passing the draft law reveals the prevailing conservative spirit in the highest form of popular representation.
It is contradictory for a parliamentary majority in a democratic system to filter who enjoys rights, simply for the sake of “thinking differently.” By doing so, the parliamentary majority perpetuates outdated patriarchal structures in political and social life, policing existence and restricting fundamental rights at the expense of the most marginalized. Thus, the status quo requires the maintenance of these heteronormative artifices to uphold the privileges of the traditionally powerful majority.
The story continues: lazy people, politicians and homophobes
In these eight years of light and shadow projections, little has changed substantively.
The light brought by public support and solid community organization is still overshadowed by the entrenched political shadows preserving the archaic order. Politicians’ participation in the parade, which has become an attraction for members of the public and photo opportunities, cannot shift attention away from the polarizing online discussions, fueled by a militant homophobic army.
Discriminatory language and practices contribute to the prevalence of hate crimes. Legislative initiatives, the state, and media outlets exacerbate the situation by creating an environment with insufficient public and structural support. These conditions perpetuate the use of language that stirs controversy, incites hostility and directly attacks the LGBTIQ+ community.
Although the physical presence of politicians is important to demonstrate public support, the human rights situation in Kosovo highlights an issue — the ruling class, despite holding power, fails to unify the plurality of wills necessary to form a truly emancipated political movement to ensure substantive change.
The fourth estate, both traditional and social media, play a significant role in this issue. In the name of providing spectacle to the masses and eliciting quick reactions, they cause long-term damage. Media coverage of the parade is not enough when the rest of the year is marked by narrow-minded and prejudiced discourse, including the misuse of subjects for supposed satire and irony, which can lead to bullying and incite violence.
The surge of homophobic online comments during Pride Week, combined with media polarization and lack of institutional support, have paved the way for violent public actions. This was evident last year when both Anibar in Peja and Dokufest in Prizren fell prey to organized homophobic attacks.
This year, just one day before the parade, the street that was symbolically renamed Pride Square and the rainbow-colored lines painted at the beginning of Zahir Pajaziti Square were vandalized. Hate speech graffiti attempted to erase the message that public spaces belong to all citizens, including the LGBTIQ+ community. This act can be seen as a manifestation of the pervasive homophobia perpetuated by public institutions.
However, the quick mobilization of the queer community, who poured out their love again on the streets, restored the vandalized space, overcoming hatred and coming together proudly.
Where there is resistance to progress, room must be made for doubt and substantive change until homophobia no longer influences state actions and established practices of violence are eliminated. We must learn more about inter-identity solidarity, which involves cooperation among ourselves, and celebrate diversity as a valuable asset rather than an anomaly. Only then can we discuss building a healthier society where everyone can enjoy life with equality, freedom and prosperity according to potential, opportunities and merit.
Just as the rainbow emerged after the rain during the pride march, bringing us joy with what followed, we can imagine a future where every shade in the full constellation of colors is celebrated — a future where there is room for everyone, together.
Feature image: Armend Nimani / Prishtina Pride.
This article was produced based on the media monitoring conducted by the Reporting Diversity Network, with financial support from the European Union. The content of this article is the sole responsibility of Kosovo 2.0 and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union.
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