International

Arewa Community Germany disowns Berlin “Hausa International Protest,” warns against divisive messaging

By Muhammad Sulaiman

The Arewa Community Germany has formally disassociated itself from a video circulating online about a so-called “Hausa International Protest” organised by Hausa Tsantsa Development Association, staged in Berlin.

In a letter addressed to Nigeria’s Consul General in Frankfurt, Ambassador Yakubu A. Dadu, the group said it had no role in organising or endorsing the demonstration and warned that the protest’s message conflicts with its core values.

The association, represented by Alhaji Tijani Garba, Dr. Ummah Aliyu Musa and Buhari Abubakar, stressed that it was founded on the principle of unity among all northern Nigerian peoples. It noted that Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri, Tiv, Nupe and other groups share a common heritage, adding that the organisation “does not draw lines” between northerners and will not support any activity that promotes ethnic profiling or elevates one group above another.

According to the statement, the Berlin protest risks fueling division and misunderstanding among Arewa communities in the diaspora, where the group says cohesion is especially important. The association reaffirmed its focus on cooperation, peaceful engagement and presenting a positive image of Northerners living in Germany.

The Arewa Community Germany also cautioned the public against linking its name to the protest, emphasising that any event involving the association will be announced through its official channels.

The group concluded by reaffirming its stance on harmony, mutual respect and a united Arewa identity.

Gunfire in Cotonou as Benin coup attempt fails, presidency maintains control

By Uzair Adam

Witnesses reported gunfire in Benin’s economic capital, Cotonou, on Sunday after a military group claimed they had ousted President Patrice Talon.

The president’s office, however, confirmed that he was safe and that the regular army was regaining control of the situation.

“This is a small group of people who only control the television,” a presidency spokesperson told AFP.

“The city and the country are completely secure. It’s just a matter of time before everything returns to normal.

”Earlier on Sunday, soldiers identifying themselves as the “Military Committee for Refoundation” (CMR) appeared on state television, announcing that they had removed Talon from office. The broadcast was later cut.

A military source confirmed that the situation was under control and that the coup plotters had not seized the presidential residence or offices.

Access to some areas, including the presidency and state television, was temporarily blocked, while other parts of the city, including the airport, remained unaffected.

Residents continued their daily activities amid the heightened security presence.President Talon, 67, a former businessman known as the “cotton king of Cotonou,” is scheduled to leave office in April next year after ten years in power.

His tenure has been marked by significant economic growth alongside rising jihadist violence.West Africa has seen several coups in recent years, including in Niger, Burkina Faso, Mali, Guinea, and most recently, Guinea-Bissau.

Benin itself has experienced multiple coups and attempted coups since gaining independence in 1960.

Talon has been praised for advancing Benin’s economy but faces criticism from opponents who accuse him of authoritarian tendencies.

With his term ending next year, the ruling party is preparing to contest the elections against a moderate opposition, while the main opposition party has been barred from the race.

Netflix to acquire Warner Bros Discovery in $83bn mega deal

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

Netflix is set to acquire Warner Bros Discovery, including HBO Max and the company’s historic film studios, in a landmark deal valued at $83 billion, marking one of the most significant shake-ups in modern entertainment history.

The agreement brings together Netflix’s vast global streaming footprint with Warner Bros’ deep library of iconic franchises, from DC superheroes to the Wizarding World, and critically acclaimed HBO series such as Game of Thrones and Succession.

As part of the arrangement, Warner Bros Discovery will first spin off its cable networks — including CNN, TNT and TBS — into a separate entity before the sale is finalised. The merger still faces regulatory scrutiny in the U.S. and Europe, with critics warning that the consolidation could suppress competition and limit creative diversity.

If approved, the tie-up would create a powerhouse straddling both Hollywood tradition and streaming dominance, reshaping the future of global media.

Shari’ah in Nigeria: A response to Ebenezer Obadare’s U.S. congressional testimony

Dr Ebenezer Obadare, a Senior Fellow for Africa Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), recently testified before a joint briefing of the United States Congress on the security crisis in Nigeria. Given CFR’s extraordinary influence on U.S. foreign policy, as its analysts brief the Congress, the State Department, and the White House, the accuracy and balance of Dr Obadare’s testimony matter significantly.

At the briefing, U.S. lawmakers and witnesses made one demand that every responsible Nigerian, Muslim or Christian, would be happy with: that Nigeria must disarm armed militias and prosecute attackers. The renewed commitment we are now seeing from the Nigerian government, including airstrikes against armed militias, the planned police and military recruitment, and the declaration of a national security emergency are all a response to the mounting U.S. pressure. On this point, American engagement has been productive.

However, Dr Obadare went far beyond the reasonable. After acknowledging the recent steps taken by President Tinubu, he nevertheless insisted that “Washington must keep up the pressure.” To him, U.S. leverage should not only be used to combat Boko Haram but to pressure the Nigerian president to abolish Sharia criminal law in twelve northern states and disband Hisbah commissions across the northern region. This framing is problematic on several counts.

First, it portrays Nigeria not as a sovereign state but as a dependent client whose legal and cultural system must be restructured via external coercion. This is not only intellectually careless; it is politically reckless. Nigeria’s constitutional debates, including the place of Sharia within a federal arrangement, cannot be resolved through directives from Washington. These are matters rooted in decades of negotiation, legal precedent, historical realities, and democratic choice. Such complexity cannot be wished away by foreign pressure or reduced to simplistic talking points about religious persecution. Sharia was introduced between 1999 and 2001 through public consultation and mass popular demand by the local citizens in northern Nigeria, who are Muslims. Subsequently, it was formalised and enacted into law by the various State Houses of Assembly.

Second, Obadare’s argument misdiagnoses the root causes of violence in the north. Boko Haram and ISWAP do not derive their ideology from the Sharia systems implemented by northern states since 1999. In fact, Boko Haram explicitly rejects these systems as insufficient, impure, and corrupted by democracy. They consider northern governors apostates precisely because they operate within a secular constitution. The group’s origins lie in violent extremism, socio-economic marginalisation, and the 2009 extrajudicial killing of the group’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf. It has nothing to do with the Sharia framework implemented by the twelve northern states. In fact, Boko Haram rejects and condemns these state Sharia systems as illegitimate, and this is why the majority of their victims are Muslims themselves. 

It is therefore analytically false to imply that Sharia criminal law fuels this insurgency. This narrative does not withstand even a basic historical timeline. The Maitatsine insurgency of the 1970s, whose ideology and violence closely resemble Boko Haram, predated the introduction of Sharia in the early 2000s by decades. To frame Sharia as the catalyst of terrorism is therefore a misreading of history and to locate causality where it does not exist.

Third, the call to disband Hisbah groups ignores their actual function and constitution. Hisbah institutions are state-established moral enforcement agencies regulated by local laws. They are not terrorist actors, militias, or insurgent organisations. They are contrary to Dr Obadare’s claims that they “impose extremist ideology, enforce forced conversions, and operate with near-total impunity.” These assertions either misrepresent the facts to unfairly tarnish their reputation or reflect intellectual laziness that risks misleading American policymakers. In doing so, they also demonise millions of peaceful Nigerian Muslims who regard Sharia as a legitimate component of their cultural and moral identity.

Finally, Dr Obadare’s testimony, intentionally or not, reinforces a narrative in Washington that sees Nigeria’s crisis primarily through the lens of religious conflict rather than the multi-dimensional reality it is, that is, a mixture of terrorism, banditry, state failure, local grievances, arms proliferation, and climate-driven resource conflicts in the form of farmer-herder crisis. Oversimplification of this serious problem does not aid victims. It distorts U.S. policy and encourages punitive measures that could destabilise fragile communities further and restrict the fundamental rights of millions of Muslims to exercise their faith and adhere to the guidance of Shari’a in their personal and communal lives. 

Nigeria faces serious security challenges amid years of leadership neglect. We genuinely need pressure to put the leaders on their toes, but not the kind rooted in calculated distortion. There is a need for leadership accountability, but not at the expense of Nigeria’s sovereignty. And we need a partnership with the United States in the areas of intelligence gathering, military capabilities and a mutually beneficial partnership. 

The United States should not base its engagement on flawed analyses made by experts such as Dr Ebenezer Obadare, which risk misrepresenting Nigeria’s realities, undermining local institutions, and prescribing solutions that could exacerbate rather than resolve the country’s complex security challenges. Partnering with the Nigerian government enables a tailor-made approach to effectively address these challenges, rather than relying on experts who have long been out of touch with Nigerian realities beyond what they read in media reports.

The Nigerian state must do more, no doubt. But analysts like Dr Obadare must also do better. Nigeria deserves policy analysis grounded in accuracy, proportionality, and respect for the complexities of a plural society; not sweeping prescriptions that collapse constitutional debate into counterterrorism and treat millions of northern Muslims as collateral in the process.

Ibrahiym A. El-Caleel writes from Nigeria and can be reached at caleel2009@gmail.com.

Zohran Mamdani and the triumph of inclusion: A lesson for Nigeria

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

When Zohran Mamdani, an Ugandan-born politician of Indian descent who migrated to the United States, emerged victorious as the new Mayor of New York, it became more than just another electoral story from America. His triumph resonated across continents, sparking global conversations on representation, inclusion, and the reawakening of civic trust in politics. For many, Mamdani’s victory symbolised a powerful statement that character, vision, and authenticity still matter in the age of polarisation.

Mamdani’s path to City Hall was anything but easy. As an immigrant, a Muslim, and a progressive voice, he faced a storm of hostility from powerful circles. President Donald Trump and billionaire Elon Musk, among others, were said to have thrown their weight behind his opponents, amplifying fears that his immigrant roots and socialist ideals made him unfit for leadership. Yet, against all odds, Mamdani not only survived the onslaught but emerged stronger, armed with nothing but a clear message of hope, justice, and inclusiveness.

What made Mamdani’s campaign remarkable was not just his defiance of elite power, but his connection with ordinary people. His grassroots outreach, his emphasis on social housing, education, climate action, and racial justice found resonance among New York’s diverse electorate. He spoke to their realities, not to their fears. In doing so, he rekindled faith in participatory democracy, the belief that leadership should reflect the people’s shared struggles and aspirations, not the privilege of a few.

It is no coincidence that Mamdani’s rise echoes that of other reform-minded figures who emerged from outside political establishments. His campaign defied the dominance of corporate funding and media bias, relying instead on volunteerism, small donations, and community-based mobilisation. That model reminded the world that authenticity, not affluence, is what truly earns public trust.

Back home in Nigeria, Mamdani’s story holds profound lessons. Our political system remains heavily tilted in favour of the wealthy and the well-connected. Elections are often a contest of money, not merit. The idea of a young, visionary leader without financial backing or godfather support ascending to power still sounds utopian. Yet his victory invites reflection. What if Nigerian politics began to reward credibility over connections? What if the masses recognised their collective power to shape outcomes beyond inducements and ethnic sentiments?

Mamdani’s triumph also reinforces the value of civic enlightenment. His message cut through misinformation because citizens were engaged and aware. In Nigeria, the recurring crisis of leadership is not only about corrupt elites but also about the disempowered electorate that allows manipulation to thrive. Real change begins when citizens see themselves as active participants in governance, not passive observers of elite bargains.

Beyond politics, his story underscores the beauty of diversity as a source of strength. America, despite its contradictions, remains a land where the son of immigrants can become a city’s chief executive. In Nigeria, where diversity often fuels division, Mamdani’s ascent serves as a reminder that inclusion is not a weakness but a path to unity. The more our institutions reflect the country’s social mosaic, the more legitimacy they command.

The lesson from New York’s new Mayor is therefore clear: leadership that listens, represents, and uplifts will always triumph over propaganda, money, and prejudice. For Nigeria, it is not enough to envy its victory; we must internalise the principles that made it possible: sincerity, civic participation, and justice. Mamdani’s win is not just a political event; it is a mirror reflecting what genuine democracy could look like when people, not power, decide.

Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu is a journalist and syndicate writer based in Abuja.

Italy cracks down on gender violence with new femicide law

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

In a landmark decision driven by national outrage over gender-based violence, Italy’s parliament has voted unanimously to establish femicide as a distinct crime punishable by life imprisonment.

The new legislation defines femicide specifically as the murder of a woman because of her gender. The unified move by lawmakers reflects a growing consensus on the urgency of addressing systemic violence against women across the country.

Beyond establishing severe penalties for murder, the legislative package also strengthens existing laws against stalking and “revenge porn,” aiming to broaden protections for victims of abuse.

The vote comes as Italy continues to grapple with high-profile instances of fatal violence against women. The national conversation reached a fever pitch following the brutal 2023 murder of university student Giulia Cecchettin by her ex-boyfriend, a case that sparked widespread protests and intensified demands for legal reform.

Still on America’s grievances with Nigeria

By Lawal Dahiru Mamman

History has shown, time and again, that empires rise and fall. The Roman Empire, one of the most powerful the world has ever known, once ran its affairs through the “cursus publicus”, a state-run courier service that carried official messages, documents, and goods across vast territories. At its peak, that system was the lifeblood of Rome’s political and economic power.

It was through the “cursus publicus” that Rome sustained control over trade, tax collection, commercial regulation, and responses to economic challenges. It kept the wheels of commerce turning, ensured that official supplies — from grains and olive oil to textiles and metals — moved swiftly, and maintained the empire’s hold over its provinces.

But as Rome began to lose its grip on that system, communication faltered. Trade weakened. Taxes dwindled. Economic integration collapsed. What followed was a slow, sprawling decline that signalled the empire’s loss of power and the gradual rise of others.

Today, empires no longer look like Rome. They are defined by global influence, control of international systems, and the ability to shape the world order. The West — especially the United States — has long enjoyed that advantage. But emerging power blocs are redrawing the world map, and anyone can see the global balance is shifting.

It is against this backdrop that the recent noise around an alleged “Christian Genocide” in Nigeria must be understood. Following that allegation, US President Donald Trump redesignated Nigeria as a Country of Particular Concern (CPC). The designation carries several potential consequences: aid cuts, export license restrictions, asset freezes, limited security cooperation, and even American opposition to international loans and investments.

Not stopping there, Trump went a step further, issuing a dramatic threat of military action that would be “fast, vicious, and sweet” if the Nigerian government failed to protect its citizens. His declaration sparked reactions far beyond Nigeria’s borders, raising an important question: What truly motivates America’s sudden aggression?

To understand this, one must consider the broader geopolitical shifts unfolding beneath the surface. In January 2025, Nigeria joined BRICS — a powerful intercontinental bloc formed by Brazil, Russia, India, and China, with South Africa later joining. The BRICS exists largely to counter the dominance of Western institutions like the IMF and the World Bank and to promote a multipolar global economy in which the US dollar no longer reigns supreme. 

With a combined GDP of roughly $30 trillion, the bloc wields real economic weight. Nigeria’s entry strengthens its ties with major economies such as China and India, promising new investments in energy, agriculture, infrastructure, and industrial development. It also opens the door to greater export opportunities, especially in oil and natural gas. 

For a country long boxed into Western-controlled financial systems, BRICS offers breathing space — and alternatives. There is also the Dangote Refinery, with its single-train capacity of 650,000 barrels per day. For decades, Nigeria relied on imported fuel despite its abundant crude oil. That era is ending. Import figures are falling sharply — 24.15 million litres per day in January 2025, 19.26 million in September, and just 15.11 million in the first ten days of October. 

With Dangote planning to expand to 1.4 million barrels per day, Nigeria is on the path to fuel independence, rivalling India’s Jamnagar Refinery, the world’s largest. This development, naturally, unsettles countries that benefit from Nigeria’s dependence — America included.

Then there is Nigeria’s deepening relationship with China. In the past year alone, Nigeria has signed major deals on industrial parks, rail and port infrastructure, mineral exploration, and energy development. China’s economic footprint in Nigeria is expanding rapidly. Meanwhile, Russia’s growing presence across sub-Saharan Africa and Nigeria’s renewed ties with France add to America’s discomfort.

The mineral dimension is equally sensitive. Beyond oil, Nigeria holds rare minerals — including lithium — that power the world’s battery industry. In a world moving toward electric mobility and renewable energy, lithium is the new oil. And China, not the United States, is securing access.

US Senator Ted Cruz once captured America’s anxiety bluntly during a congressional session when he warned: “China is a global threat that must be confronted territory by territory, nation by nation… China is pouring billions into its Belt and Road Initiative… gaining control over cobalt, lithium and other rare earth minerals… refining more than 70% of the world’s cobalt and controlling vast shares of global supply chains.”

His comments speak volumes when placed beside today’s geopolitical tensions. None of this denies the fact that Nigeria still faces grave security challenges. Our leaders must rise to their responsibilities and make the country safe for all. But it is naïve to imagine that America’s sabre-rattling is purely humanitarian. 

The United States may not be threatening a “sweet” military strike out of concern for Nigerian lives. Rather, like Rome losing its “cursus publicus”, America may be reacting to a shifting world order in which its grip is slipping — and Nigeria now sits at the centre of that shift.

Lawal Dahiru Mamman writes from Abuja. He can be contacted at: dahirulawal90@gmail.com.

Bashir Ahmad confronts US Congressman for ‘twisting facts’ about Kebbi school abductions

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Former presidential aide, Bashir Ahmad, has challenged a statement by a United States congressman who described the Kebbi school attack as an assault on a “Christian enclave.”

Rep. Riley M. Moore had posted on X, calling for prayers for “the 25 girls who have been kidnapped and for the repose of the soul of their vice principal who was killed.”

He also wrote that “the attack occurred in a Christian enclave in Northern Nigeria,” and urged the Nigerian government to do more to curb rising violence.

Ahmad responded directly to the congressman in a post of his own. He expressed appreciation for the concern but stressed that the lawmaker’s account was incorrect.

He wrote: “While appreciating your concern and praying for our sisters, @RepRileyMoore, it is important to correct a crucial detail here, the attack did not occur in a Christian enclave. It happened within a Muslim community and the victims themselves were Muslims.”

Ahmad said the error highlighted a recurring problem. He stated that incidents like this show why Nigerians often complain that outsiders “either do not understand the complexity of Nigeria’s insecurity challenges, or you are deliberately pushing unholy narratives that risk worsening our already fragile unity.”

His reaction has sparked renewed discussion around how international figures describe security incidents in Nigeria and the sensitivity required when addressing religious identity in conflict-affected communities.

The messiah-villain binary: A trap in democracy

By Oladoja M.O

In the grand, often tumultuous, theatre of African politics, a deeply entrenched and insidious narrative persists: the Messiah-Villain Binary. This simplistic, yet devastating, framework casts political leaders not as fallible public servants, but as either divine saviours or malevolent destroyers. It’s a binary that suffocates nuance, stifles accountability, and, in a continent desperate for democratic maturity, acts as a corrosive cancer on the body politic. We must call this what it is: a dangerous delusion that has shackled Africa’s progress for far too long.

This orientation, a relic of post-colonial strongman politics, reduces the complex art of governance to a moral melodrama. Citizens, conditioned to see their leaders as larger-than-life figures, become spectators in a perpetual battle between good and evil. When a new leader emerges, they are instantly elevated to the status of a messiah, the one chosen to slay the dragons of poverty, corruption, and instability. Any opposition is, by default, cast as the villain, a saboteur working against the people’s will. This is not just a rhetorical device; it’s a profound psychological trap that prevents a healthy, critical relationship between the electorate and those they elect.

Look no further than the story of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. In the euphoric dawn of independence in 1980, Mugabe was the indisputable messiah. He had led the liberation struggle, promised the people a new land, and was seen as the architect of a new, prosperous Zimbabwe. But as his rule solidified, dissent grew. His staunchest supporters did not see his brutal suppression of the Gukurahundi massacres and his increasingly authoritarian tendencies as the actions of a flawed leader, but rather as the necessary evils required to defeat the ‘villains’—the opposition, foreign agents, and internal critics. This narrative allowed him to dismantle democratic institutions and cling to power for nearly four decades, all while his country’s economy imploded. The messiah had morphed into a tyrant, but the binary, with its pre-assigned roles, kept many from seeing the reality until it was too late.

A similar pattern can be seen in Rwanda, albeit with a different trajectory. Following the 1994 genocide, Paul Kagame was hailed as the man who pulled his nation from the brink of total annihilation. He is undeniably a messiah figure for many Rwandans, credited with bringing stability, order, and remarkable economic growth. Yet, this messianic status has made it incredibly difficult for a genuine political opposition to emerge. Critics, journalists, and political rivals who question his iron grip on power are often swiftly silenced, accused of undermining national unity or of being sympathisers of the genocidal past. 

The messiah’s narrative, while perhaps initially justified, has become a tool to legitimize the suppression of democratic pluralism. The ‘villain’ is no longer the genocidal regime, but anyone who dares to challenge the man who defeated it. This is a profound danger: when a leader’s infallibility is tied to a nation’s salvation, dissent becomes tantamount to treason.

The messiah-villain binary is a disease that festers in the heart of African electoral politics. It’s visible in the fervent, almost religious, rallies where supporters see their candidate not as a political leader with a manifesto, but as an oracle. The 2017 Kenyan election and the subsequent crisis offered a stark illustration. Both Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga were cast as messianic figures by their respective supporters. For Odinga’s base, he was the long-awaited liberator, the man who would finally lead them to a promised land of social justice. For Kenyatta’s supporters, he represented stability and continuity, the man protecting the country from the ‘villainous’ forces of instability. This emotional fervour, fueled by tribal and regional loyalties, led to a deeply polarised society where compromise became impossible. The result was not just political gridlock, but a cycle of violence and deep-seated animosity that continues to haunt the nation. The election wasn’t a contest of ideas; it was a crusade.

This issue is not just a problem of the past; it remains alive and well today. In Nigeria, the perennial politics of ‘saviour’ and ‘enemy’ plague the electoral landscape. From the military regimes to the current democratic dispensation, every election is framed as a life-or-death struggle against forces of darkness. A new candidate emerges, promising to sweep away the corruption of the past, and is instantly elevated to a messianic pedestal. Yet, once in power, the same old patterns of patronage and unaccountability emerge. The people, having invested their faith in a person rather than in institutions and processes, are left disillusioned, only to repeat the cycle with the next messiah figure. This prevents the building of strong, independent institutions, a free press, an impartial judiciary, and a non-partisan civil service, because the entire political system revolves around the individual, not the rules.

The messiah-villain binary is a trap, a narrative cul-de-sac from which genuine democratic progress cannot escape. It’s a cancer because it preys on hope, exploiting the legitimate frustrations of the populace for political gain. It turns citizens into blind followers and opponents into sworn enemies. This dangerous orientation must be dismantled. We must stop looking for messiahs. There are no magical saviours.

There are only men and women who are fallible, flawed, and accountable to the people they serve. We must demand a politics of substance, not spectacle. We must judge our leaders not by the promises they make on the campaign trail, but by their respect for democratic institutions, their commitment to the rule of law, and their willingness to be held to account.

The true liberation of Africa as a continent and Nigeria as a nation will not come from a single hero, but from a critical and engaged citizenry that understands that the power to govern belongs to them and that no politician, no matter how charismatic, is a god. It is time to retire the messiah, to dismantle the villain, and to embrace the hard, unglamorous work of building a true and lasting democracy.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com.

Russia convicts deceased LGBTQ travel agent of extremism

By Sabiu Abdullahi

A court in Moscow has delivered a posthumous conviction against an LGBTQ travel agent who died in custody one year ago, intensifying concerns about Russia’s clampdown on people it claims oppose “traditional” values.

The ruling, issued on Friday, declared 48-year-old Andrei Kotov guilty of extremism. His death was reported in November 2024 after he was found lifeless inside his cell at a Moscow pre-trial detention facility.

Kotov, who operated a travel company named Men Travel, had previously told the court that officers assaulted him on the night of his arrest in November 2024, stating: “Fifteen people came to me at night, beat me, were punching me in the face.”

Despite his death, authorities continued prosecuting the case.

Rights groups said this decision was intended to instil fear within the LGBTQ community, which has faced escalating pressure under President Vladimir Putin.

Reports from Mediazona indicated that the Moscow Golovinsky Court found Kotov guilty of engaging in “extremist activity” and of allegedly involving minors in pornography.

His lawyer said in December 2024 that investigators informed her the cause of death was suicide.

Human rights advocates argued that the government used the case to send a message. Russia has intensified legal and social restrictions against LGBTQ individuals, especially since its military campaign in Ukraine, which pushed the country further into strict conservative policies.

Putin has long criticised anything he believes contradicts “traditional family values,” describing such influences as foreign and un-Russian. In 2023, the Supreme Court outlawed what it referred to as the “international social LGBT movement” and labelled it an “extremist organisation.”

Human Rights Watch said that decision “opened the floodgates for arbitrary prosecutions of individuals who are LGBT or perceived to be, along with anyone who defends their rights or expresses solidarity with them.”

Although LGBTQ people have never experienced broad public acceptance in Russia, activists say conditions have worsened sharply in recent years, with increased risk and intensified state hostility.