LONDON — "Growing up in a Muslim family, I was told that liking another person of the same sex was haram," said Warren Hallett of how Islam forbids homosexuality, considering it sinful. "My religion teacher said [gay people] were going to hell.
"I knew being me was wrong, but I couldn't change it. And because I couldn't tell anyone, the only way to live was to hide everything. I prayed every night, wishing I would wake up 'straight', 'normal', like everyone else."
Born in Batu Pahat, a small town in Malaysia, where Islam is the state religion, the 53-year-old has since given up his Arabic birth name, married another man and become a policy adviser to the British Home Office.
In 2000, Hallett was the first asylum seeker to be granted refugee status in the United Kingdom on the grounds of being LGBTQ+ - lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer/questioning.
To mark Pride Month - a global celebration of the LGBTQ+ community and culture every June - Hallett recalled for the Post how being a gay Malaysian Muslim left him homeless, caused him to turn to sex work and led to two failed suicide attempts.
For him, and many others, the path to pride was paved with pain and prejudice.
Warren Hallett aged 12 with his late mother. His father physically abused him for playing a female character in a school play. (Photo: Warren Hallett)
One of his early memories was when, as a nine-year-old, he played a female character in a school play. Giddy at first, he soon learned the hard way that his effeminate leanings were frowned upon - violently - by none other than his own parent.
While the audience laughed riotously, his father, the primary school's headmaster, stormed off mid-performance. That evening at home, he overheard his parents arguing. He recalls his father referring to him as "an embarrassment" and blaming his mother for allowing their son to go on stage in girlish clothing.
"Suddenly, the door burst open. He started chasing me with this huge bamboo cane and cornered me in the bathroom. He didn't stop hitting me until my mum pulled him off.
"I was just down there. I couldn't even react. When he finally stopped, my mum started to clean up the blood and everything. She took me to the bedroom and sang for me so I could sleep, and I was just crying. It was painful everywhere. My small body was bruised and bleeding."
Hallett said after the beating, he resolved to live his life pretending to be straight: "It was like a survival skill that I had to do."
In the years that followed, he played sports and followed every unwritten rule there was in the heterosexual playbook. It was "very draining for a child", he said, but he needed to pretend.
"My dad was proud of me, but I didn't feel his pride," he added. "He loved me for the role I played, for something that I was not. It's hard for a child to know that. I grew up feeling unloved because I wasn't loved for the real me."
Hallett excelled in his studies and in 1990 he was selected for a British government-funded A-level scholarship programme in the UK. He accepted the offer without missing a beat - all he wanted was to leave his home country.
"I arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland, and, for the first time, I saw people like me. After growing up lonely and confused, the happiness I felt there was so immense. I didn't waste any time and got myself a boyfriend within the first three months of being there," he said with a laugh.
He achieved stellar A-level results and was accepted into the University of Edinburgh on another scholarship, awarded by the Malaysian government, to study for a bachelor's degree to teach English as a second or other language (Tesol).
Hallett, the first asylum seeker to be granted refugee status in the UK on the grounds of being LGBTQ+, at a Pride event in London in 2024. (Photo: Warren Hallett)
By this time, he was thriving. He lived with a then-new boyfriend and frequently went out to gay bars and clubs.
But the good times did not last. In the summer of 1992, Hallett almost outed a closeted compatriot who, perhaps as an act of revenge, reported to the Malaysian government about his sexual orientation and religious deviance - Hallett had been spotted wearing a cross, albeit as a fashion statement.
Both homosexuality and converting to another religion as a Muslim were, and still are, illegal in Malaysia.
Subsequently, the Malaysian embassy revoked his scholarship, citing breach of contract, and sent him a plane ticket to return home. A report which detailed his life in Edinburgh meant he faced a potential 20-year prison sentence if he went back to Malaysia.
With an expired student visa and having exhausted his friends' sympathy, he became homeless and applied for asylum; at the time, being gay was not a valid reason to apply for asylum in the UK, Hallett explains, as LGBTQ+ people were not considered a persecuted social group by the British government.
To support himself while stuck in immigration limbo, Hallett became a prostitute in Edinburgh and Glasgow. His earnings were unpredictable, and he went hungry on days when business was slow.
According to a 2022 University of California Los Angeles study of LGBTQ+ refugees and asylum seekers, many are "forced to find employment in the informal economy" since they needed to do "whatever was necessary to survive".
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) cites "deprivation of employment" combined with "the lack of housing and family support" as the main reasons for them resorting to such work.
"I remember going to this Chinese supermarket, missing home and craving rice, which I couldn't afford. I was so thin. Being put in that situation also affects your mental health. I thought, 'Is this really worth it, being gay'? I started questioning my existence and spiralling. It was so lonely and hard," said Hallett.
In 1994, aged 22, Hallett was disowned by his father and attempted suicide - twice.
"I tried to end my life and swallowed pills to overdose. I just couldn't do it anymore. What was the point of living?" he said.
But he persevered and by 1997 he had quit prostitution after finding work, albeit still illegal, in the publishing and fashion industries, where he took pride in knowing that "someone recognised me for me and I didn't have to pretend to be straight", he added.
In December 1999, the British government officially recognised asylum claims based on sexual identity as being eligible for the granting of refugee status.
"When my application was granted, it was like I was a whole person again. I felt as if a weight on my shoulder had been lifted," Hallett recalled.
He added: "At the end of the day, life is too short. You have to live authentically, even if it means you have to leave your country - you're saving yourself. I just want to celebrate life and what's left of it."
In 2023, Malaysian filmmaker Justice Khor documented Hallett's story in a 20-minute short film, Qeluar (Out), which premiered at London's Queer East festival in March 2024. It was shown in March this year at the Leeds Queer Film Festival, also in England, and it is expected more festival screenings this year will be announced.
LGBTQ+ rights in Britain have been the subject of heated discussion of late, since the government banned puberty blockers for young people and excluded transgender women from female bathrooms.
While Hallett has serious concerns about the current state of LGBTQ+ rights in the UK, he believes in being optimistic and doing what he can to contribute to the cause. He works with London-based charities Rainbow Migration and The Outside Project that support LGBTQ+ causes around the world.
"[My story] was a lifetime ago, but it shaped the way I am today, to think of others and support the community. It gives me pride to give back," he said.