The Slap

First came the slap, and then silence. It seemed to me that time stopped for one second on that hot afternoon in Yaba market. It was like the scene out of the matrix where Neo stops the bullets mid-air. In that moment, I took in the angry face of the young man and the bewildered faces of the people around me. I perceived the overpowering smells emanating from the gutter mingled with the smell of meat and blood from the butchers’ stalls. I heard the relentless buzzing of the flies and the cacophonous beating of my heart as I looked down at my right hand in amazement, wondering where the force of the slap had come from and then, time unfroze.

Yaba market is one of the bigger markets in Lagos Nigeria. For those living in mainland Lagos, it is the go to place for groceries, unsewn cloth bundles, clothing accessories and many other household items. Yaba market would ordinarily be quite a visually exciting place to visit because of the colourful array of objects that titillate the senses, however for many women, that is not the case because a subset of Yaba market traders are infamous for sexually harassing women. The level of harassment received varies from woman to woman and is dependent on age, marital status, clothing, skin tone and response of the woman, but in my observation, young unmarried females seemed to be subjected to the worst levels of sexual harassment imaginable. The tableau of sexual harassment ranges from verbal abuse, (ashawo meaning prostitute in Yoruba being a favourite insult to hurl at women), hand grabbing, waist holding, bottom pinching to breast squeezing. I have never in my personal experience heard of any incidents of rape, but I wouldn't put it past these men that subjected innocent women to the torture of sexual harassment in Yaba market. These hands ever constant and the faces attached to these hands, sneering with mouths full of vile language.

This is the treatment that awaited me and other women in Yaba market, meted out in the full view of the others who didn’t participate. The non-participants would hardly ever intervene to stop the treatment. They all sat or stood, watching, some with sniggering faces, some whispering that the victim brought it on themselves by what they were wearing. The silent majority, witnessing the sexual harassment and doing nothing thus standing with the perpetrators. This was the side Yaba market I knew and hated but I had no choice but to go because I had to live.

And so, on this humid day, I took my younger sister who was visiting from Abuja (the capital city) to Yaba market. She wanted to pick up some supplies which she couldn’t find in Abuja. Before we went, we mentally prepared ourselves for the battle, our skin, already crawling at the thought of the hands. As we walked past the market stalls, the onslaught began both verbal and physical. The hands started to snatch at ours, to grab our arms, the voices called out to us first to buy their wares followed swiftly by verbal abuse when we didn’t stop. We walked on, batting them away like flies, twisting our bodies acrobatically to avoid as many as we could. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a young trader grabbed my sister by the wrist and wouldn’t let go of her. I asked him to let her go but he wouldn’t, I asked him again and he ignored me. I tried to physically remove his hand but he had my sister’s wrist trapped in a vice like grip and that is when it happened. 

The slap, fast and hard across his left cheek made him drop her hand. First came the look of surprise, followed quickly by a look of anger and then, the cricket dance. He hopped around and shouted, raining abuse on me, threatening to beat me up.  To be honest, I surprised myself by slapping him because I am not the violent type but what was done, was done. So with adrenaline pulsing through my veins, I pulled myself upright to my full height, planted my feet solidly on the ground and dared him to touch me. I remember feeling fear but calmness at the same time because I felt justified in my actions.

Luckily for me, the watchers jumped out of their apathetic stupor and called for calm. They told the man that he should have let go when I asked him to. He continued to rant and got caught up in the market place court that was taking place. While this was happening, someone whispered to me to leave with my sister, a command that we promptly obeyed while continuously looking over our shoulders to make sure we weren’t being followed by the irate trader. Needless to say, we left the market without fulfilling our objective but I felt good that one of the pests had received in my mind, a just recompense for his sins. I hope he learnt a lesson from that day’s events but I doubt it. It will probably take more than a slap to stop the harassment that women face on a daily basis in Yaba and other markets in Nigeria and round the world. Maybe a million slaps?

All jokes aside, something needs to be done to address the abysmal situation. For instance, the leaders of the market traders associations need to be approached and told of the situation and how it makes women feel. They may have seen the harassment going on but haven’t really seen it, if you know what I mean. Sometimes, it takes a personal description of the feelings associated with events to make another person’s eyes open. Additionally, awareness campaigns can be implemented to raise the profile of the silent suffering of women, using art forms like drama and dialogue to cause empathy to take root in the hearts of the watchers. Posters and pamphlets can be distributed; songs can be written and sung by local musicians all to encourage awareness of the situation and to plant the seed of change. A boycott of the market may be a final resort, one that would require immense planning and convincing effort.

So many things beyond what I have suggested can be done to curb the trend, and yes I hear the question, ‘who is going to do it’? My response is you, me and everyone else who is fed up with the status quo. If we want change, we are responsible to make that change.

Disclaimer: No one was wilfully harmed beyond what they deserved during the course of events described in this blog. It is not wise in the writers view to attempt to recreate the situation described. Please don’t try this at home.  

A Gigolo, a Harlot and a Whore

During lunch the other day, a colleague was sharing his experience about a stag party he had just attended. He talked about the antics of the group and what they got up to, eventually landing on the topic of pulling girls and the 'walk of shame' they had to endure the next morning on their way home. This prompted me to ask why is it still refered to as the walk of shame for women and why there isnt an equivalent for men? The answers I received were unsatisfactory.



I told them I struggled with the fact that so many decades after the sexual revolution, women are still made to feel ashamed even though there has been a 'liberation'. Its alright for the men to walk home the next day in the same clothes but not for the women who have to bear the looks and sniggers of passers by. I went further to point out that there I had observed that the English language has no male equivalent for words like 'whore' and 'harlot'. There is one word 'gigolo', borrowed from Italian which is applied to men who sell sex but the meaning it conveys is far from the drudgery and filth that whore and harlot bring to mind. Basically, a gigolo, harlot and whore are all descriptions of people who sell sex for money but its only the words used for females that have negative connotations.

I find it disturbing that with all the advancements that have been made in the developed world in the area of gender equality, these negative stereotypes and words are still associated with and used on a daily basis to describe women. By this I am not in any way championing casual sex being a firm believer in commitment but I think that if people decide to have casual sex, then both sexes should be treated the same. Women should not be made to feel dirty for doing the exact same thing as the men they choose to have casual sex with.



On the face of it, it seems discouraging that after more than a century of struggling, strong prejudice against women still remains embedded in the social fabric of society but one must take comfort in the knowledge that the struggle for gender equality is a journey. A long journey which will take time and continuous effort to achieve. Lao Tzu, a chinese philosopher observed correctly that a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Our mothers and sisters round the world have made a lot of steps that have resulted in some of the freedoms that women now enjoy which they were denied previously. It is imperative that we continue on this journey. Women must never stand still or go back from where we came, we must continue to respectfully, but loudly, challenge unjust systems and beliefs. We must do it for ourselves and our daughters, lest the labours of our heroes past be in vain.

The struggle continues.

Gender Equality is Beneficial for Men Too

When most people hear the words 'gender equality' what often comes to their minds is a picture of women physically struggling with men for position, of women heckling men and shouting in the streets, burning bras and running about with the aim of pummelling men into submission. 

That is a general and widespread misconception that needs to be changed. Gender equality is not about shifting power bases to favour the female sex alone, it is about equalising the systems so that both sexes have the same rights and access to economic resources without fear or harassment. It is about providing the framework that underpins the freedom of both sexes to express themselves in any way they want without impinging on the next person's rights.

Gender equality is not just for women, when it is achieved, it will provide the opportunity for men to behave in ways and do things that they couldn't have done in the past due to traditional expectations. 

Such behaviours may include a shift in attitudes towards men having to be seen as the breadwinner, it might allow men to explore their feelings, they will have the freedom to express their emotions rather than bottling them up and using anger and aggression as means of release. A male member of this forum shared with me that one reason why men die earlier is because of this bottling up of emotions. Realisation of gender equality may even free some men of the responsibility of asking a girl out or to marry them. Imagine that, no more games. I think that would be a relief for some. What about the burden of paying a dowry? That financial obligation might disappear and the marital home could in time become a level playing field, with no threats of returned dowries. In the area of leadership, gender equality will free men from guess work when it comes to making decisions about female issues. There is a popular saying, only the wearer of the shoe knows how it pinches. When we have a gender balanced government, people who have experienced and understand the situation will be part of the decision making resulting in better policies for all the represented people and fewer dissatisfied people, definitely a good place to be in. I have no doubt that realising gender equality will benefit men too. My prayer and hope is that we can reach it quickly.

These are just a few examples I can think of but I am sure there are others. Can you think of any? As they say, two heads are better than one so please share any thoughts you have on this.


Anuli

The Mrs Club

As a young girl growing up in Nigeria, I was told what my future should be. My education began at a very tender age and my educationists were the cloud of women who surrounded me. While some of the ladies were very direct in their approach, not mincing words, others were more subtle, making their point by way of indirect comments, jokes, conversations carried out in my presence, and sermons. My destiny, according to the numerous aunts, mothers and grandmothers, was sealed and it was this: To grow up into a nice young woman, appearing to be untouched by the hand of any young man and ultimately, to get married.

Marriage was purported to be my singular destiny, it was extolled as that which should be my greatest goal, my calling in life. Marriage was to be my game changer, my key to a different level of respect and position in society. Once I was married, I would no longer be referred to as that ‘small sisi’ (miss) or treated with disdain by the police, grabbed by traders in the market place, harassed by classmates and colleagues (of the male species). Rather, I would be referred to as Madam with some respect. No longer would I be harangued by people asking the same question relentlessly; ‘when are you going to invite us to eat rice?’ (a Nigerian euphemism for marriage) as if eating rice was ever a problem for them. Marriage would be my licence to demand quick service in shops, in offices and other institutions, a demand which few unmarried women would make for the pain of insults that would surely come as a result of their unmarried and therefore Non-Status. With the words ‘ I do’ uttered and the dotted line signed, the door to ‘respectability’ previously barred to me by reason of my ‘singlehood’, would be opened wide with great flourish and I would be admitted into the ‘Mrs club’ where I would reign on my throne of new found status. The irony is that even though there is a ‘throne’, it comes with little benefit except for those mentioned above. Many Nigerian women, if they would admit it, know what I am talking about and while it may be how it is, I balk at the hypocrisy of the situation.

It is particularly distressing that while men have created the customs and norms that bind women, it seems that women have become the custodians of the keys to these chains and revel in the role of gaoler of their fellow women, keeping them bound.  The sorry situation prompts me to ask the following questions:

• Is it right that women in our society should be considered as having little value and little to contribute until married and even when married, that their many achievements should be attributed to their husbands?
• Is it right that women should feel rushed into getting married because they constantly hear messages about how no man would want to marry an old hag (an old hag being age 25 and above) and they don’t want to become that ‘old hag’.
• Is it right that many women who are suffering domestic abuse, sit tight in a sham marriage, so as to hold on to the ‘status’ bestowed on them by virtue of being tied to a man, or that they should be afraid to leave because of the verbal abuse and psychological manipulation they will experience from their cloud of women?
• Is it right that when a man gets promoted, people congratulate him for hard work but if a single lady (and sometimes married) were to get promoted, there would be questions about who she slept with?
• Is it right that it is acceptable that married men should cheat on their wives and if their wife made an issue of it or ventured to do the same, she would be made a pariah?

No! It isn’t right. A woman should be respected for who she is and for all that she can bring to the table, whether single or married. A woman should have access to all the opportunities and freedoms that any man has irrespective of culture or religion. A woman should be free to go where she wants to go and to obtain a passport without a man signing a letter of consent. A woman should be able to go to work without the threat of sexual harassment or the loss of a job if she takes more than three months of maternity leave. I could go on but I will stop because I am sure you get my drift.

I have a dream; a hope that one day, all women will be valued equally as men. This is not, as some might think, an attempt to take the place of men, for how could we? We are so different. This is a struggle for women to be given  access to the same freedoms and opportunities within the context of our uniqueness. 

I believe that the key lies in education; educating the young men about gender equality, educating women about their rights and lack of rights so that something can be done to right the imbalance and most of all, educating men to help them understand how women feel by virtue of the prejudice that we face and how it cripples us and prevents us from achieving our full potential. I have a part to play in this, so does every man and woman. So play your part, challenge someone, stand up for yourself, join a pressure group, get people talking about it. Don’t let it rest till the goal is achieved, the goal of gender equality.

We May Not All be Mathematical Geniuses...

A few days ago, I had an interesting conversation with a group of people. We talked about intelligence of children and touched on topics such as the value of private education (referred to as public schooling in parts of the UK), streaming in school systems to encourage academic talent etc. The conversation was progressing well until one of the conversants made a comment about 'dumb' children.

'Dumb', the word struck me like a stone. I was stunned, first by the use of that word to describe a child (even in private conversation) and also because when I challenged the use of the word, the response was one of shrugged shoulders and of insensitivity, as if no damage could possibly be done by using that descriptor for a child. I even went as far as to ask, what if it was your child being described as dumb to which the response was, "well my children aren’t". I could see that the last comment was made to save face because the embarrassment was obvious. The person had realised that unknowingly and without malice, they had become a vehicle of prejudice against academically challenged children.

These types of conversations happen every minute of every day all over the world. These are conversations in which people unknowingly discriminate against others and prime their listeners to do the same. That is how prejudice starts. I am as guilty as the next person. I have lost count of the number of times that my husband has pulled me up for showing prejudice, which has come out during my conversations. In my opinion, prejudice results in discrimination and discrimination when unchecked breeds inequality which results in all kinds of injustice being done to the 'victim' of the inequality. 

You may argue that prejudices are inbuilt, that they are part of our emotional DNA. That may be the case but we humans are able to engineer solutions which help us to rise above limitations that we may have as a result of our biological make up. An example is wearing high heels to boost height (for the vertically challenged among us). Likewise, in the case of prejudice, one way to mitigate it is to develop empathy. The definition of empathy from Wikipedia is as follows: Empathy is the capacity to understand what another person is experiencing from within the other person's frame of reference, i.e., the capacity to place oneself in another's shoes.

If we practised empathy, we would be less likely to judge, to stereotype, to be biased. We would probably be more patient, willing to listen and to assist in any way we could. I am convinced that if there was more empathy in the world, there would be less inequality. So let’s all work on getting some empathy, lets practice it till it becomes habit. It may be difficult at the start but the more one does it, the easier it gets. 

At the end of the conversation that triggered all of this, what I thought and wish I had said is this, " we may not all be mathematical geniuses but each one of us is remarkably gifted and unique in our own special way". 

Perfect!!!

I looked at myself in the mirror today. My body has changed dramatically from having a baby. I am definitely heavier, I can no longer pass the pencil test for breast pertness (a true test) and as for my belly, lets not even go there. But you know what?  I was perfect before and I am perfect now and I would love to hear my sisters (and brothers) round the world say the same.

The image that the media paints of beauty is impossible for most women and men in the world to attain. The idea that perfection is smooth skin, DD breasts, a waspish waist and huge hips with a pert bottom for women and a six pack, muscular arms and rock solid legs for men is ludicrous and we all know it so why do we keep falling into the net of the people who set the impossible targets?  I myself have been a victim of this deception, recalling the countless hours spent standing in front of the mirror, agonizing over my spotty facial skin, my lack of any form of cleavage or waist for that matter (being of athletic build) and an impossibly flat bottom (a sin for an African woman). I wince when i remember all the money gone down the drain buying clinique, clarins products etc with absolutely no change to my skin condition. As for the bottom, well, I was advised to consider a Brazillian butt lift by a dear friend which thankfully, I couldn't afford.

I am sure that most haven't failed to notice the ubiquity of treatments offered to alter ones physical appearance by way of Botox, lip fillers, breast enhancements, penis enlargement etc. while its not my business what anyone chooses to do with their body, I think it is important that people realize that even with the perfect body, there will always be something else that someone else will pick on as being imperfect. In the end, changing who we are might bring a buzz in the short term but physical alteration of appearance can never bring about happiness or satisfaction. This message is essential to pass on to young people who are very impressionable.

So what can bring about satisfaction if attaining the perfect image wont? In my opinion, discovering and embracing what is good about ourselves and focusing on using our natural talents is a sure way to being happy. So rather than dwelling on how our faces aren't symmetrical like Beyonce's, or how our backsides aren't rounded like J Lo's, we could invest that time and dwell on the beauty that is us. We need to take some time and identify and accept the features and characteristics that make us unique and beautiful and dwell on those. We need to develop our inner beauty and look after our outward beauty, to harness all that we are and all that we can become to create true beauty in our world. That, is one sure key to happiness. I really believe that and practice it now.

My sister visited late last year (sorry sis, you know i love ya) and said, 'Anuli, we need to do lunges to get our bottoms looking pert'. I said to her, ' but Dahhling, I absolutely lurve my bottom just the way it is, it is just perfect'. I don't think she will be raising it again :)

No More Page 3 Campaign Victory - A Small Step

Anyone who lives in the UK is more than likely to have come accross the Sun newspaper, somewhere. Opportunities are endless to stumble across a copy whether it be at the bustop, on the train or even at work. Also, anyone who has chanced to open its pages would have been greeted by the sight of two female breasts (and usually of the larger variety) on page 3 of the newspaper. You couldnt miss it if you tried.

The Sun newspaper parades itself as a sports publication, so its usually as a surprise to an unsuspecting foreigner like myself to open the pages and be affronted by breasts. Now, I dont mind breasts at all, afterall, I have a pair myself, but what I found disturbing was the way women were depicted as being silly, brainless and only about looks. Young girls and grown women already suffer from a lot of self image and confidence issues without having to deal with this as well. Women should be recognised for what they can contribute, for their competence, hardwork and strength rather than being seen as sex objects.

So, if you havent heard already, it gives me great pleasure to announce that the public have seen the last of the exposed breast on page three (in print) after 44 years and I say, 'good riddance'. I am glad that my daughter wont be subjected to the Sexism of page 3. A small victory this may be, but it is a step in the right direction for gender equality and respect of the female. Congratulations to the #nomorepage3 campaigners for work well done. I only wish that the Sun would have replaced the topless women with interviews from successful sports women. What a diffrence that would make.

For more on the story, visit: http://www.theguardian.com/media/2015/jan/19/has-the-sun-axed-page-3-topless-pictures