Stories, Belonging, Hope and Action: Reflections from WorldPride Amsterdam 2026

Some experiences leave you with photographs. Others leave you with a renewed sense of purpose. WorldPride Amsterdam 2026 was both.

I have been trying to find the words to describe the WorldPride Human Rights Conference in Amsterdam, and I still don't think I've quite found them.

Held at the magnificent Beurs van Berlage, the conference brought together advocates, academics, activists, politicians, faith leaders and human rights defenders from across the globe. Different countries, cultures, identities and lived experiences, brought together around one fundamental belief:

Everyone deserves dignity, belonging and the freedom to live authentically.

‍It was an extraordinary privilege to be in that room.

As a South African-born person, I was especially proud to see fellow South Africans represented, including Mmapaseka Steve Letsike. And my dear friend Dr Lady Phyll did a phenomenal job co-hosting the conference alongside Camiel Welling.

But beyond the people I knew, it was the sheer breadth of voices that moved me.

This was truly global Pride.

Stories shape belief

One of my highlights was having the opportunity to host and speak at “1946 and the Power of Narrative: Christian Faith and LGBTQIA+ Rights”, alongside Sharon “Rocky” Roggio, Rev. Jide Macaulay and Rev. Alexander Noordijk.

As Associate Producer of 1946: The Mistranslation That Shifted Culture, this conversation felt incredibly personal.

I opened with words that have become central to my own work:

“Stories shape belief.
Belief shapes culture.
Culture shapes people's lives.”

Because stories have consequences.

They shape who belongs, who is excluded, whose humanity is affirmed and whose rights are denied.

Our conversation explored faith, race, sexuality, culture and lived experience — and why intersectionality matters. None of us experiences the world through one identity. We are whole people, carrying complex histories and identities into every space we enter.

‍And this conversation was about more than theology.

It was about power. It was about language. It was about whose humanity gets recognised. And ultimately, it was about human dignity.

Why EDI matters…‍ ‍

This is where I found myself thinking about my own professional work as an EDI specialist.

‍The conversations happening at a global Human Rights Conference are not separate from what we do inside our organisations every day.

EDI asks some very simple questions: Who is missing? Where are the barriers? Whose voice isn't being heard? And what needs to change?

At its best, EDI is human rights work in practice.

It is about removing unnecessary barriers, challenging discrimination and creating cultures where people can participate, contribute, thrive and genuinely feel that they belong.

And in 2026, that work feels more important than ever.

EDI is increasingly being weaponised across the Atlantic, with the backlash against equality, diversity and inclusion becoming part of a wider political and cultural fight.

The tragic death of Professor Jason Arday has brought the consequences of this debate into painful focus. Jason, Cambridge's youngest Black professor, died aged 41 following an intense period of scrutiny around allegations about his academic work and career, which he denied. His family has spoken about a campaign of misinformation and harassment; police have said his death was unexpected and is not being treated as suspicious. (Reuters)

There are legitimate questions about academic standards, accountability and due process.

But there is also a human being at the centre of the story.

And that matters.

Because when EDI becomes a political weapon, people can become symbols rather than people.

EDI is not about lowering standards. It is about asking whether the systems around those standards are fair.

It is about dignity, equity and belonging.

And I refuse to believe that is something we should apologise for.

Hope still exists….

Our panel didn't only talk about harm and exclusion. We talked about hope and queer joy.

As I said: ‍“We're here because hope still exists. Because Queer joy still exists. Because communities continue to imagine something better.”

One of my other highlights was finally taking part in our friend Jarko De Witte van Leeuwen's Growing Wall of Love — a travelling community art project responding to the harm caused by toxic theology and the misuse of scripture against LGBTQIA+ people.

A wall made of colourful hearts.

Each heart saying:

I see you
I support you
You belong…

‍I loved finally adding my own heart.

Sometimes resistance looks like protest.

Sometimes it looks like love made visible.

“If liberation leaves somebody behind…”

Mpho Tutu van Furth gave me one of the quotes I will carry from Amsterdam:

“If liberation leaves somebody behind it isn't liberation yet.”

And then: ‍“Our calling is larger than gaining admission to rooms that were built upon our exclusion. We must build new rooms… And when we have built those rooms, we must hold the doors open. That is power.”

‍That is the challenge. Not simply getting people through the door.

Changing the room and then holding the door open.

‍That is intersectionality, solidarity and for me, that is the heart of EDI.

Pride is still human rights!

Walking through Amsterdam on 8 August alongside fellow London activists, queer communities and allies from around the world was joyful, beautiful and humbling.

‍But I couldn't forget that Pride can still be dangerous.

Only days earlier, violence had disrupted Berlin's Pride celebrations.

So I walked for those who cannot.

For those living where LGBTQIA+ identities are criminalised.

For those who cannot safely hold their partner's hand.

For those rejected by their families.

‍For those forced to leave their homes.

That is why Pride matters.

Pride is joy. Pride is protest. Pride is remembrance. Pride is resistance.

And in 2026, we still need all of it.

From Amsterdam to Cape Town

I was also proud to attend the launch connected to the bid for WorldPride London 2032, in my capacity as a Trustee of UK Black Pride.

‍And then came one of the most emotional moments for me: watching Amsterdam hand the baton to Cape Town for WorldPride 2028.

‍The Mother City , ‍my native South Africa, will be hosting Cape Town Pride – WorldPride 2028

I am immensely proud.

Cape Town 2028 will be the first WorldPride on the African continent — an opportunity to centre African LGBTQIA+ voices, cultures, histories and activism on a global stage.

I cannot wait to see what they pull out of the bag.

Perhaps the simplest way to describe my WorldPride experience is:

Stories → Belonging → Hope → Action.

‍We all arrived carrying stories.

‍Some celebrated, hidden, some written for us and some we've spent our lives trying to rewrite.

‍But our stories matter.

And then we have to act.

Because human rights are not only protected through laws.

They are lived through our everyday choices.

‍At the end of our panel, I left everyone with something from home — a Nguni expression that has stayed with me:

Simunye.

We are one. Not because we are all the same. We aren't.

‍Our identities, cultures and experiences are different.

‍But our liberation is connected.

Our dignity is connected, our humanity is connected.

That is what Amsterdam reminded me.

‍We need activists and academics. Storytellers and policymakers. Faith leaders and community organisers. EDI practitioners and human rights defenders.

‍And we need allies willing to do more than stand beside us when it is comfortable.

‍We need people willing to hold the door open.

So I leave Amsterdam grateful.

Grateful for those who fought before us.

‍Grateful for those fighting now.

Grateful for queer joy.

Grateful for the storytellers.

Grateful for the activists.

And grateful for every person who has ever said:

You belong here.

Because in 2026, we still need to say it.

‍We still need to defend it.

‍And we still need to live it.

Tell a more truthful story.
Make space for others to tell theirs.
Build the new room.
And when you get there, hold the door open.

Simunye. We are one.

Keep exploring

If this reflection has sparked something for you, these are some of the people, projects and organisations connected to the story:

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Why Pride Still Matters in 2026