The Plight of the Female

Crystal, my wonderful partner, is really into gender equality. I mean, it's her THING, her passion, her cause. Crystal has a lot of causes, but creating a world where women are recognized for their differences, their strengths, and given completely equal opportunity to pursue life choices -- that's the one. I'm not a feminist. In the past, I have even thought that it can be a sign of weakness to complain about one's plight because of a particular diversity characteristic. I've had a lot of circumstances throughout life when I've been the only female on some team, doing some job, etc. I've convinced roomfuls of stubborn old(er) factory workers to question their ways and listen to me, a young female who'd never set foot in their plant before a month prior. As a result, I kinda think I'm tough. I kinda think those gender issues just don't apply to me. And maybe I'm right. But I know now that this is only true because so many brave people have paved the way for me. Even if there are still people out there whose mindsets I have to change, I DO have the opportunity to do so. There are places out there where women don't even have that opportunity. Where the cultures and customs are such that a woman has no way of beating the "system", of countering the general mindset of what she should be. Because she has nowhere else to go once she's made a stand, no way to support herself, nobody who will take her in.

In Kuria, women run the house. They figure out food, clean water, animal care, and basic survival aspects of life. The older mamas are the queens by word, but are still the servants by trade. The men seem to listen to them, but are catered to like the kings, and have the true final say on matters that impact them in the house and how the household positions itself with respect to the outside world. In matters of finance, in matters of family health and family planning, in matters of business and in agriculture. The women have no way of exercising control on anything outside the house. It's an odd balance. And it starts in part by the way girls are raised -- believing their education is not as important as their brothers', being tasked with caring for younger siblings as if they were already moms themselves. But it is driven home by the ways that women move from childhood to adulthood.

Female Genital Mutilation (FGM, aka female circumcision) is abundant in Kuria. In fact, 80-90% of women undergo the procedure. (The exact numbers are uncertain, but that's believed to be pretty accurate.) Every two years, the ritual occurs in the community. It's like a tribal holiday -- people run around in masks, people celebrate in the streets. And one day, an older woman wakes up and there are a pile of knives outside her door. She has been chosen as the cutter. Only recently have women started bringing their own razor blades to the operation; until then, blades and knives were reused over and over again. The girls undergoing the procedure are anywhere from 14 to maybe 19 or so. Their families decide when they're "ready"... but to be fair, oftentimes the girls "want" the procedure. This is because they've been told that this is the only way they can become a woman, the only way they will ever get married. And that, of course, is their ultimate goal: to be married and have babies. What blows my mind (well, one thing) is that the ones who most religiously promote and propagate the practice are the old mamas, the "gocos". It's like a rite of passage. You'd think that they would have seen how many awful things come of it, how their lives have been shaped by being forced into submission, forced into young marriages, forced from their education -- and would want better for their children or grandchildren, want to save them from such misery. But no. And the girls -- those who don't want to do it are ridiculed. Socially ostracized if they don't, looked down upon even if they just show fear.

Aside from the obvious issue of this being a brutal and unnecessary practice that robs women of any ability to enjoy intercourse, there are some serious health and social issues that stem from such an abundant practice of it. Women bleed to death. They contract STDs and HIV from the use of dirty knives. They are more likely to contract these diseases later in life when they become sexually active -- because their cuts reopen so easily. Some must get resewn after every birthing. Some die in childbirth from excessive blood loss. On the social side, many many women do not return to school after the procedure. They are ready to marry - and so they do. And rob themselves of any chance - or at least any confidence - of doing something more in life. They will always consider themselves uneducated and hence bound to the home. I know that educated women are valued more highly because Mama Chacha's son Laurent told me that his friend's family had to pay 30 cows in the dowry for his bride "because she is an educated woman." That's a lot of cows. Have you ever asked yourself how many cows you're worth? How many do you think a Harvard Business School degree adds on? What if it's just, like, 10? would I feel belittled knowing that I were valued equally to the herd of cows I passed the other day in the field in Vermont?

I went to the City Museum of Nairobi and it made me mad. I saw the "ancient tools" used for cutting ... and I wasn't so sure they were all that ancient. The museum said that today circumcision is outlawed and many other rituals are instead used as a transition to adulthood. Maybe... but just because the government outlaws it doesn't mean it's stopped. Nice to have the tourists at the lovely museum believe that they're visiting such a clean country. But in a weird sort of way, I felt like I could read behind the lines of the museum plaques. Like even the people writing them knew, even they were paying some degree of homage to the practice.

And so I say, maybe there's a place for feminism after all. A place that provides women the opportunities that I have. That gives them a voice - one they can use without being beaten (physically or mentally) afterwards. A right not to be persecuted and belittled. So maybe next time I walk into a roomful of men and tell them why they should listen to me, a little part of me should be thankful that a lot of people - both men and women - did a lot of hard work so that I can do that.