By: Makalay Saidiatu Sonda
I never once thought about this concept called feminism. In my early teen and adult years, I was as clean a slate as a newborn baby would be. Women struggles and pains had been so normalized around me that I never stopped for a minute to think whether things were right or wrong.
My aunt who was also our neighbor, faced punches and blows every time she quarreled with her husband. My father received many unsolicited pieces of advice from his uncles, anytime they came to visit, about how he should take a second wife so he could have male children. My mom did not give birth to a son. All three of us were girls. They told my dad that he needed a son to continue his family lineage – a son who would take care of him. Their perception was that we all would get married and our new families would be our priority. Remarkably, my dad never budged. Until his demise, he had only one wife – my mom.
I had learnt about feminism during my university days when writing my undergraduate degree dissertation. I had written on the topic “Assessing commercial radio station broadcast on the promotion of women empowerment in Sierra Leone”. Researching for my literature review I came across many concepts such as feminism, social justice and gender equality and equity, etc. I learnt also about the concept of the ‘missing women’, ‘breaking the glass ceiling’ and ‘poverty being sexist.’ Before then, I had little clue that the world existed in such ways that women could be killed just because their families thought they brought shame unto them. I was clueless about the fact that we lived in a world where a fetus was aborted because it was female. That we lived in a world so patriarchal that a woman’s body was controlled by the state, family and community; a world where majority of countries had a blanket ban on abortion, a world where contraception was not allowed by men and family even if the woman wanted to have it. A world where abortion was frowned at but FGM was celebrated. A world where 35 percent of women had experienced physical and sexual violence, yet they worked more but got paid less.
These made me angry. I became angry. I became angry not just because I am a woman but because I couldn’t understand how one gender could face so many injustices just for being the gender it is. I had heard stories from my dad about his father. I thought it was just ignorance and the fact that it happened in the olden days. My grandfather had many daughters – TWENTY SIX! He had only 12 sons. The eldest child was female. (Don’t be astonished by the figure. He had five wives. He was a Paramount Chief (before colonialism chiefs were kings)). He refused to send his daughters to school because he believed school was for boys and not for girls. He believed that girls should stay home and learn household chores and how to be mothers, because one day they would have to move in with their husbands. He thought the boys would grow up to be the heads of their families. They would have to carry the family’s name also.
My dad and his brothers, after they had been educated, took it upon themselves to educate their younger sisters. Because of this, all the eldest daughters are illiterate. I can clearly see the difference now between my educated aunts and the uneducated ones. The educated ones married the men they loved. They have good jobs and their children are very successful and educated as well. The uneducated ones married early, to relatives. Many were actually forced into marriages. They relied on their husbands and relatives for almost everything that was financial. Most of their children did not get an education.
I don’t need research or statistics to make me understand what gender inequality does. I saw it firsthand. I see that this happened long ago but the effect still lingers on. Sadly, we still have people who believe that women and men shouldn’t be equal in terms of the enjoyment of their social, economic and health rights and freedoms.
My rage reached a crescendo after I went through so much literature including statistics, articles, books etc. I took up feminism as a personal ideology and mission. An ideology that would help widen my scope and understanding on these issues of inequality. An ideology that would give me the courage and zest to fix things and bring change in my own little way. An ideology that would make me have a lifetime mission of standing up for women and girls everywhere and anywhere. An ideology that would help me lift up the women and girls around me and beside me.
One year after graduation, I set up a community-based organization called Moonteen. I had got married and moved to the rural part of Sierra Leone because of my husband’s job. I also started working in the same institution where my husband works – Njala University, an agricultural university with a campus in the rural area of Njala, Moyamba District. Before now, I had spent my entire life in the city. I was born and raised in Freetown. I had never left Freetown for even a week. I was bound to have some shocks.
Upon moving to the provinces, one of the biggest shocks I had was the condition of girls. The district I moved into had one of the highest teenage pregnancy rates in the country. Apart from statistics, I could see it myself – it is all too evident. I saw pregnant girls hawking goods all day long. I saw girls, some as young as 13 years, who had become mothers and wives. They dropped out of school. I saw girls who couldn’t go to school because there were no schools in their villages. I tried to fix things and bring change in my own way; Moonteen was born.
Ever since, I became a feminist. It was as if my mind was on default mode. And like a robot, I was programmed to try to address issues and problems as long as they concerned women and girls. I started Moonteen with young women in my community. We mentored girls through school clubs, teaching and discussing reproductive and sexual health and rights, discuss critical topics otherwise regarded as taboo including menstruation and menstrual hygiene, rape, sexual abuse, teenage pregnancy, etc.
Our approach was geared towards ending teenage pregnancy and enabling girls stay in school. With no donor or external support, we worked tirelessly and brought change in our community. Over 150 girls were mentored and all of them made it to the next level of their class in the past two years without getting pregnant and or dropping from school. We built good relationships with parents and helped mediate in problems and conflicts that threatened their children’s education. We advocated and sensitized our community to take action in ending teenage pregnancy, rape, child marriage and other abuses. We helped parents/guardians build confidence-driven relationships with their children/wards. This was feminism in practiced.
In my country, Sierra Leone, there are many gender advocates but very few identify as feminists. Gender advocates support and promote gender equality. This is often done in their official work spaces and public sphere. My friend and I were discussing the other time on the phone. We were having a conversation about feminism. She asked me why many gender advocates do not like referring to themselves as feminists.
I have had many confrontations with some people on this on social media too. People who brand themselves as gender advocates abhor the term feminism. They would refute the term “feminist” when you refer to them as one. I find this absurd. It’s like saying you’re an astronaut but not a scientist. Feminism in the basic of terms, according to iwda.org, is about all genders having equal rights and opportunities. “It is about respecting diverse women’s experiences, identities, knowledge and strengths, and striving to empower all women to realize their full rights.” The Merriam Webster dictionary defines feminism in two aspects: (1) “the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes” and (2) “organized activity on behalf of women’s rights and interest.”
So this begs the question, why do some gender advocates refuse to be identified as feminists? Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie, a Nigerian writer and a feminist, once said: “saying you’re a feminist is like saying you’re a terrorist”. Because of the negative perceptions and myths around feminism many gender advocates in Sierra Leone that I know have refused to identify themselves as feminists. Many even do so publicly. Someone made an argument on a Facebook Live program that “saying you’re a feminist puts you in a box”. Other arguments I’ve heard include: “identity doesn’t matter”, “name-calling or branding yourself a feminist or not, even though you’re working as a gender advocate, doesn’t really matter.” Do these arguments suffice? It may be tempting to say yes. However, I believe being a feminist or identifying yourself as one shows that you believe in the ideology. And this leaves a lasting print in your heart and mind to stand up for women and girls everywhere and anywhere (in the household, family, the community and the country), to go beyond the donor funds, to go beyond the recognition or fame. A feminist, in my opinion doesn’t need to get paid to make her voice heard, to empower women and girls, to push for equality and equity. Believing and taking feminism as an ideology gives one a very strong conviction to play their part to achieve equality and equity in any way they can. It gives one the conviction to keep pushing for equality even without recognition or so-called donor funds. Chimamada Adichie is not the only one that thinks “we should all be feminists.” I think so too. If we all, that includes gender advocates, be feminists, I think we will create sustainable change and lasting impacts in the fight for gender equality.
I vividly remember, some years ago, after I became a feminist, I had not set up an organization at the time, my mom wanted to initiate my cousins into the Bondo Society. The Bondo Society is a traditional rite of passage where FGM is practiced. I had my cousin who was living with me, and I had heard from my aunts that my mom would initiate her too into Bondo. My cousin was just five years old at the time. As soon as I heard the information, I tried talking to my mom to convince her not to do it. I tried explaining to her about the dangers of FGM, and why it was wrong. I tried talking to her about the law also. FGM in Sierra Leone is prohibited by law for girls under the age of 18. I pleaded with her. She wouldn’t listen to me, and asked me instead whether I had died when she made me undergo FGM at the age of two.
I know what I’m going through as an adult currently, because of that singular action, but I couldn’t dare to talk back at her. African parents are African parents. They have their ways! I couldn’t argue with her. When I saw that there was no way I could convince her, I made sure I learned about the time and date the initiation was taking place. When the time came, what I did was to flee home with my cousin. I didn’t want her to go through what I had gone through and to experience all the negative things I have had to experience because of FGM. However, we later returned when everything was over.
I was very happy that I stopped my mom from making my cousin undergo FGM. Being a feminist enabled me to do this. I did not have to be in a formal work environment (where work entails supporting or promoting equality) or public sphere before standing up for girls and women. As I said earlier, feminism is inscribed in my heart to have a rage that is so strong that I can’t help but stand up for women and girls anywhere and everywhere. It helped me make constant effort to understand the struggles of women in my country and in the world. For me that’s the difference between being just a gender advocate and being a feminist. That’s why I call myself the latter.
Mrs Makalay Saidiatu Sonda is a lecturer at Njala University and a gender activist.
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