Economic Inequality for LBQ+ Women: How Conflict and Disasters Create a Crisis Within a Crisis—And Why Global Philanthropists Must Act Now
- Eti Essien
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Across the Global South, economic inequality for LBQ+ women deepens every time conflict, displacement, or natural disaster hits, as they do not strike all people equally. For LBQ+ women who already navigate layers of social, economic, and legal marginalization, disasters strip away not only their safety but also the economic autonomy necessary for survival. These women are often invisible in humanitarian systems, abandoned by families and institutions alike, and denied access to resources that could help them weather both immediate and long-term shocks. This intersection of misogyny, homophobia, and systemic neglect transforms crises into full
catastrophe.
Humanitarian crises have a gendered dimension that is often overlooked. Globally, one in three women experience gender-based violence in their lifetime, and LGBTIQ people are even more likely to face harassment, assault, and economic exclusion. When disasters strike, these pre-existing vulnerabilities are intensified. Consider a small business owner displaced by flooding in Nigeria or a queer journalist fleeing conflict in the Sahel. The very structures meant to provide safe shelters, monetary assistance programs and social protection often exclude them, explicitly or implicitly, based on gender and sexual orientation. For these women, survival is more than fleeing danger; it is being able to also retain the economic autonomy that allows them to make choices, avoid exploitation, and
sustain their livelihoods.

The invisibility of LBQ+ women in crisis response is a systemic problem. Humanitarian systems rarely collect data on sexual orientation or gender identity, leaving queer women unseen in needs assessments and excluded from protection programs. When needs are invisible, so is funding. Ironically, the consequences are very visible. In many contexts, aid distribution prioritizes “traditional” family units, leaving queer women stranded in
unsafe conditions. Even when services exist, fear of harassment or violence can prevent them from accessing support. The result is a vicious cycle: marginalization opens them up to disaster-induced vulnerability, which deepens post-crisis poverty and instability. The structural inequalities LBQ+ women face are intensified in times of crisis.
Barriers to formal employment, discrimination in housing, lack of inheritance rights, and exclusion from social protection programs are magnified when emergencies disrupt communities.
Displacement, destruction of property, and the loss of documentation necessary for access to aid disproportionately affect LBQ+ women. Queer couples may not safely disclose their relationships, cutting them off from family-based relief programs. Militarized conflict zones or policing of informal settlements further increase exposure to exploitation and violence. These compounding disadvantages demonstrate that economic vulnerability is
both a cause and consequence of crisis. These gaps in data and funding turn what should be neutral relief systems into engines of economic inequality for LBQ+ women.
Religiously extreme sentiments often frame disasters as punishment for “immoral” behavior, a narrative that disproportionately targets queer women. In many communities, LBQ+ women are blamed for crises or natural disasters, accused of inviting misfortune through their identity or actions. This belief justifies ostracism, exclusion from aid, and denial of resources. Families may refuse shelter, local authorities may block access to humanitarian programs, and relief efforts may deprioritize women labeled as “transgressors” of moral codes.
This moral policing not only deepens social isolation but also directly threatens economic autonomy, as women are denied access to jobs, microfinance, or entrepreneurial networks in their communities. When combined with structural misogyny and homophobia, religiously motivated ostracism ensures that LBQ+ women become the first to be abandoned and the last to recover in crisis settings.
The most severe and long-term impact of crises for LBQ+ women is often the loss of livelihood. Many work in informal sectors, creative industries, microbusinesses, or community care roles, fields that are most vulnerable when disasters strike. When homes and businesses are destroyed, when digital records and tools vanish, and when land and property are inaccessible, economic collapse follows. For many LBQ women, the loss of income and resources translates directly into increased exposure to exploitation, coerced relationships, and gender-based violence. Take the example of Amina.
Amina is a 28-year-old LBQ entrepreneur in Nigeria who runs a small boutique selling handmade textiles. When armed conflict escalates, she is forced to flee her town. Her shop is destroyed, digital records erased, and her family refuses to offer support because of her sexual orientation. She finds temporary shelter in a crowded relief center, where harassment is constant. Without capital, tools, or networks, her business collapses. Amina’s story is a reflection of the lived realities of countless
LBQ+ women across Africa, Latin America, and Southeast Asia, illustrating how crises amplify existing economic and social marginalization.
This reality makes economic empowerment a form of crisis response. Supporting LBQ+ women financially means providing safety infrastructure. Financial independence allows women to relocate when danger rises, avoid exploitative relationships, maintain business continuity, and access digital and physical security. Community mutual-aid networks and digital livelihood platforms further strengthen resilience, creating structures that withstand both immediate shocks and long-term instability. For LBQ+ women, economic power is synonymous with agency, protection, and dignity.
Philanthropic intervention is critical. Strategic LBQ-led funding can directly save lives and livelihoods. By providing flexible, unrestricted support, we can support local queer-led organizations to offer emergency shelter, relocation support, food distributions, case management, and legal aid. Investments in small business grants, digital training, cross-border entrepreneurship, community cooperatives, and financial literacy programs ensure that when crises hit, women have assets and networks to rely on.
Funders who understand that economic empowerment is intertwined with survival and resilience can disrupt this cycle of vulnerability and neglect.
Misogyny and homophobia further deepen the stakes. Structural misogyny limits access to education, employment, property rights, and social power, while homophobia erases queer women from social safety nets. In crises, families may abandon queer daughters, shelters may be unsafe, and aid distribution may systematically exclude them. Abandonment is not always deliberate; often, it is structural and systemic, yet its consequences are profound and long-lasting. These intersecting forms of oppression strip LBQ+ women of autonomy and access to basic necessities precisely when they are most needed. Crises are not gender-blind, and funders cannot afford to be. Funding is a shield against violence, exploitation, and economic erasure. For LBQ women in the Global South, economic power is protection, dignity, and the right to survive.
LesbianGlobal’s mission operates at the exact intersection where visibility, safety, and livelihood meet. By investing in LBQ-led initiatives, philanthropy ensures that queer women are not abandoned in crises but are instead empowered to navigate adversity and rebuild their lives and thrive despite instability.
The intersection of conflict, disaster, misogyny, and homophobia is not abstract; it has tangible, measurable consequences. Data shows that LBQ women are disproportionately excluded from economic and social support systems, and that economic vulnerability directly correlates with exposure to violence. Yet despite this, philanthropic investment in LBQ+ women remains insufficient.
The story of Amina, like those of countless other LBQ+ women, demonstrates the urgent need for an integrated approach to crisis response, one that acknowledges systemic inequalities, centers the experiences of queer women, and invests in their economic autonomy as a primary form of protection.
In conclusion, crises amplify existing inequalities, and LBQ+ women in the Global South are disproportionately impacted due to systemic misogyny, homophobia, and economic marginalization. Abandonment, whether by family, community, or institutions, is an all-too-common reality. Interventions that prioritize economic empowerment and visibility offer a pathway toward resilience, safety, and autonomy. When the world destabilizes, the most marginalized fall first, unless deliberate action ensures they have the resources to survive and thrive. If philanthropy is serious about justice, it must directly confront economic inequality for LBQ+ women in the Global South as a core crisis priority.




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