The rise of feminism in West Africa

Lori and I were invited to attend and bring two local women to the 1st Meeting to Promote Women Entrepreneurs in West Africa. We arrived on the first day to find that this was a much bigger deal than we had anticipated. There were national authorities from West Africa and Europe. Sitting in a room, which I can only describe as my imagination of a press conference, I felt very out of place. There were photographers and cameras everywhere. Headsets and microphones were at every seat for interpretations between English and French. Many of the sessions touched on gender and equity & equal opportunities in order to ensure development in West Africa. At times I found myself thinking as a feminist. The women there were very empowered and strong; they want to be educated and successful. In order for W. Africa to grow and become economically stimulated there must be equal opportunities for men & women. Women play the biggest part for their own growth. They must first start in their own home & family. But in Africa the whole community raises a child so that means the entire village must be supportive and not oppressive as young children are growing. Many times girls are put into the role of cooking and house work and are denied the privilege of education and growth. Even the husband of one of the women we took to the conference was upset because his wife was not home to cook for him for 2 days. We joked with some of the men in the village that in America men cook and clean too, but they are not open to the idea of doing ‘women’s work’- it’s just not done here. This is where the feminist feelings start to rise in me. I find that I’ve taken it for granted being born & raised in America where I’m free to be who I want to be and do what I want without fighting years of cultural oppression and ways of thinking. So where America went through the feminist movement half a century ago it is now alive and growing in West Africa.

And here are the photos from the "press" (if you can call them that)

Missionary Musings

I try to identify the effects of my being here, trying to decide if it was worth taking a year out of ‘my’ life and thousands of dollars from my friends and family. I feel like I’ve somehow cheated the system. Life will continue on here just like it always has but I will go home to my western comforts with a better understanding of who God is and how I want my life to be different. Isn’t that a little unfair? Shouldn’t I leave feeling good about how these people better know God? Shouldn’t I leave with stories of how I saw God work in mysterious and miraculous ways? I find myself comparing myself to friends that have come back from serving with incredible stories and relationships with those they served and I feel like a failure of a missionary in comparison. But God is reminding me that it’s NOT about ME or how I feel or what I did. It’s COMPLETELY about HIM and what he did. Who am I to decide that he hasn’t worked in the lives of those around me? And if he chooses to work in my life in noticeable ways who am I to say that’s unfair?
Lord I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.

The Toilet Monster

Do you remember when you were a kid and you were scared to go to the bathroom at night because something might come crawling up out of the toilet? Well, at least that was one of my fears as kid. But here in Africa it is a reality that I live with everyday. When squatting over a hole in the dark there’s no telling what will come crawling out. One night as I was returning from the ‘bathroom’ I felt something on my head. It turned out that a huge cockroach had crawled onto my shorts and made its way up to my head. My room mate Lori had an experience with a praying mantis in an undesirable location. There also a few chickens who have apparently found the best place to roost at night is on top of our bathroom wall.

Ghetto-rigged light

Along with our ghetto-rigged AC we now have an overhead light to match. In the market you can buy flashlights that have been rigged with wires for a switch and the LED lights attached to a broken light bulb. Our compound asked us to buy some for them so they can see while sitting on the front porches at night. We decided that this was a request that we would be happy to answer and we bought one for in our house as well.

Relief from Humidity

Now that the rainy season has come so has the humidity that you could cut with a knife. It is just about unbearable to sleep at night. So Lori and I purchased a car battery to run a 12volt fan on to help with this problem. The clamps on the fan are too small to hook on the battery so we wrapped bobby-pins around the connectors to attach the clamps...here is our ghetto-rigged AC.

Weekend Retreat

Now that Gary and Denise have gone back to America Lori and I decided to take a short break to relax. It was also a good excuse to get out of the village during the circumcision ceremony. We stayed at a guest house run by a few Catholic sisters. It was a nice quiet weekend on the coast.

Making personal pan pizzas

Sunset on the Atlantic (yup sunset, not sunrise)

We frequent this pool at a nearby hotel

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Reflections on Female Circumcision

I heard stories about female circumcision in Africa from Clair Good in my training in Harrisburg. I never thought I would encounter it and have to figure out my feelings on it. But here I am in Africa, face to face with it and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the harsh reality of it.

Growing up in my safe, countryside home in a Western culture, I was taught from a very young age what to protect as private. I knew my mom was protecting me by telling me these things. In Africa when a girl is between the age of 6 and 12 it is time to be ushered into the family with a huge ceremony that the entire community is involved in. Her mother takes her the bush (forest) where the men have constructed a fenced in area. All the other girls her age are there too, along with older girls, young women and the elders. There is loud drumming, clapping, singing and chanting going on, it’s a day of celebration! Oh but not for the little girl, soon she is taken and being held down, one of the women (hopefully one with knowledge of medical practice) is cutting her insides out. The people in her life that she thought she could trust the most, her mother, sisters, grandmother did this to her. For three weeks she’s forced to stay in the bush with no bath. The older women teach her all she will need to know about life. Each night she is carried on someone’s back (piggy-back style) and walked across the village to another house to sleep. There are men dressed in big, fluffy, orange costumes carrying machetes (called the kankorang) who patrol the area and lead the procession between the bush and the house. They are there to ward off any witches and evil spirits that may come to harm the girls during this vulnerable time. The rest of the village must be in their houses from 7pm to 7am or the kankorang will come and get you. Throughout the night the kankorangs will patrol the village and come bang on doors or anything else in the compound. Some people say they’ve seen him fly or jump from the ground to the roof of buildings. At the end of the three weeks there is another huge celebration. The girl is now an accepted member of society. Of course the girl is happy and excited, she survived bush school, she has a role now. She has no idea of the pain and struggle she may have to deal with in years to come.

I hope that someday this village will have other ways to celebrate a child's coming of age. I pray that girls will not have to suffer through this.