Facing Death for Being Trans: The Harsh Reality of Identity and Violence
Imagine waking up one day, not just fearing the relentless online trolls or the usual glares on the street, but knowing that your very existence is now a political battleground. One where the government - not content with just passing anti-LGBTQ+ laws - has lit a match under a simmering cauldron of hate. Enter the tragic murder of Kesaria Abramidze, a transgender model, murdered in cold blood in Tbilisi, Georgia. But let’s not pretend this is an isolated event. This crime is one thread in a larger, much uglier tapestry of transphobic violence that is all too familiar to those of us in the transgender community.
In case you missed it (and let's face it, you probably did because transgender murders tend to get about as much attention as vegan options at a BBQ festival), Abramidze, a 37-year-old model with half a million social media followers, was murdered on September 18, 2024, just one day after Georgia passed its shiny new anti-LGBTQ+ legislation. The new law, like a dystopian cherry on top, bans gender-affirming care, same-sex marriage, and the public depiction of LGBTQ+ identities. In the immortal words of the Georgian government: "We're protecting family values." From what, exactly? The happiness of queer people? Love? Acceptance? It's hard to say. But what we can say is that their rhetoric is deadly.
Now, let’s talk about the underreporting of trans murders. Society seems to have this wonderful skill of minimizing violence against transgender individuals. Newsflash: The murder of transgender women, like Abramidze, doesn't trend for days on end. It doesn't provoke national conversations. No, these deaths get buried under the weight of apathy and convenient silence. Sure, we’ll get the occasional half-hearted statement from a politician who probably had to Google "transgender" before writing it, but that’s about as deep as it goes. Abramidze's death is a brutal reminder that for many in Georgia - and let's not kid ourselves, across much of the world - being trans is a crime punishable by violence.
It’s not just the murder. It's the murder against the backdrop of a state that actively promotes homophobia and transphobia. This wasn’t a random act of violence - it was nurtured in the very halls of Georgian power, where laws are passed to strip trans people of their rights and dignity. And what happens when you treat a group of people as less-than-human? You permit others to act on their hatred. Call it what you will, but when you create a culture of hate, people get killed. This is state-sponsored violence in its purest form.
So, where’s the outrage? Why isn’t Abramidze’s death plastered across every major outlet? Oh right, because trans lives don’t sell papers. Abramidze’s life, reduced to just another statistic, will be remembered by those of us who understand that this isn’t about a single murder but a system that thrives on erasing us. We, as trans women, know the drill all too well: The media might mention the murder, but they’ll skip over the countless others whose names never even make it to print. It's like a horror movie where the killer is always lurking, but no one bothers to turn on the lights.
Let’s not forget that Georgia is not the only place where this happens. Transgender murders go underreported, under-investigated, and under-punished everywhere. From the streets of Latin America to the alleys of Eastern Europe, trans women are being killed while the world shrugs its shoulders. Why? Because it’s easier to turn a blind eye than confront the uncomfortable truth: that bigotry is alive, well, and far more deadly than any law on a piece of paper.
The fact is, this isn’t just a "Georgia problem." This is a global problem. Transgender people, both men and women, face horrifying violence even in countries where we supposedly have "protected rights."
The United States, for example, regularly sees an alarming number of trans women—particularly trans women of colour—being murdered. Just because there are laws that protect trans people on paper doesn’t mean those laws translate into real, lived safety. Brazil consistently ranks as one of the deadliest countries for transgender individuals despite its anti-discrimination laws. And in the UK, despite legal protections, transphobic violence has surged. The problem is systemic, global, and fueled by the same brand of hatred we see in Georgia.
As the vice president of Faithless Hijabi, I know the unique dangers faced by marginalized groups, especially ex-Muslims and transgender individuals living in oppressive societies. We fight for safe spaces, mental health support, and the right to exist without fearing for our lives. But Kesaria Abramidze’s death reminds us that our work is far from done. We must continue to challenge these laws, this culture, and the apathy that allows such violence to flourish.
To all the "family values" legislators: congratulations. Your precious law has claimed its first victim. How many more will it take before you realize that laws built on hate do not protect anyone? They destroy. They kill. And every trans woman lost is not just a life cut short—it’s a searing indictment of a society that failed her.
When influential figures like Stephen Knight, Piers Morgan, Richard Dawkins, and J.K. Rowling spout anti-trans rhetoric, they’re doing much more than "stating an opinion" or "engaging in debate." Their words have consequences - real, tangible ones that ripple far beyond the ivory towers of celebrity privilege. They foster an environment of suspicion, fear, and outright hatred, effectively giving a green light to those who are already teetering on the edge of violence. By framing transgender identities as "ideological" or "delusional," these public figures provide intellectual cover for bigots to justify their dehumanization of trans people.
Take J.K. Rowling, for instance. It’s easy to sit in a multi-million dollar mansion, spewing disingenuous concern for "women's rights" while conveniently ignoring the brutal reality trans women face daily - like being murdered for simply existing. Her condescending tweets and manifestos dressed up as feminism do more than stir controversy; they reinforce the belief that transgender people are a threat, rather than fellow human beings deserving of dignity and safety. Similarly, when Piers Morgan mocks trans identities on national television or Richard Dawkins publicly questions their validity, they may claim it's all just "free speech." But what they fail to grasp - or willfully ignore - is that their "free speech" can become a death sentence for people like Kesaria Abramidze.
What Knight, Morgan, Dawkins, and Rowling offer is the polite, sophisticated version of hate. This kind that masquerades as a civilized discussion while planting seeds of violence in the minds of those who are already predisposed to act. Their platform gives legitimacy to the worst instincts of society, and while they may never personally wield the knife or pull the trigger, the blood of countless transgender victims still stains their hands.
As an intersex trans woman, I know all too well the dangers and discrimination that come with living authentically in a world that so often refuses to see our humanity. The murder of Kesaria is not just a tragic loss, but a stark reminder of the violence our community faces daily, simply for existing.
Having survived my own struggles with identity, prejudice, and the constant threat of harm, I understand the weight of this injustice deeply. This senseless act highlights the urgent need for global solidarity and action to protect the lives of trans and intersex individuals everywhere.
Rest in peace, Kesaria. We will not forget you even if the world does.