'Strong' Woman

                                                                                   

March 8. It's International Women's Day and I struggled to construct a pithy statement that conveyed my thoughts; thoughts that had been lingering on my mind for a little over a week. In the end, I settled for this social media post which I believe captures both the mood of the day and it's essence, including all the struggles and triumphs not only of the great and known but the small and unseen.

My thoughts had been stirred by another post stating, "Behind every strong woman is a story that gave her no other choice" - on an all-female platform over which I voiced some disquiet and the reactions flowing therefrom. It makes a 'strong' statement and I intend no pun as you would soon understand. My reading was that, a woman is forced to be 'strong' only if she has no choice. Question; what is she otherwise? and does it matter that she is not 'strong'?

I had explained that though I understood that gender discrimination and patriarchy are still challenges that many women contend with and appreciate the sense of solidarity that such statements are supposed to convey; it seemed to me that the statement implied an inherent weakness of the female which was only displaced by ‘strength’ after overcoming some unusual circumstance. In my view this position does not recognize all the 'strong women' I see about me every day; women who are strong simply because they survive the drudgery of their ordinary lives; many of whom will only escape their lives after death. For me, this reality did not make them the weaker, nor did it reflect a lack of strength.

After some back and forth, it was urged on the group by one participant and supported by others that women ‘…start off as the weaker sex because of the way we’ve been socialized. We later learn skills to protect ourselves and our own and become strong(er)'. This got me thinking as I struggled to rationalize the notions of natural as against socialized weakness of the female. 

I was nurtured to be confident and independent, to have an opinion and see no difference except biological between myself and my brothers, be responsible for my actions, not expect another (a man) to carry my load. So I grew up defying, sometimes fighting extraneous expectations to exhibit tendencies supposedly more akin to females and though I caved to pressure sometimes I never departed from my true self. I started off being an ordinary girl, but grew more and more aware of the pressures to be other than myself- weaker maybe? Some say I'm a 'strong woman' (whatever that means) but I see nothing extraordinary in a woman with a worldview such as mine; even though I have come to appreciate the challenge of navigating society with preconceived labels. The idea that women start off as the weaker sex and later learn to be strong, if even theoretically defensible, was not my reality and I do not believe it is that of many females.  

But that is not to deny the realities of others. Context and environment matter. The question though is whether the weakness is inherent in the female? More importantly, what does it really mean to be a 'strong woman' with the unfortunate consequence, sometimes, of defining the strength of a woman by the popular notions of achievement, success and superior ability to overcome a major life hurdle? 

The acclaimed Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie captured this well in her 'danger of a single story' TED talk.   ‘The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story’, she said. 
That said, I would like to think that if even I was to be referred to as a ‘strong’ woman, it should not be because I overcame an unusual or dreadful situation (though I have survived a few of those), but because I live, I survive, and I thrive. 

 
I am a woman. Nothing more. The labels don't count. Never will.

 

Photo Ops in the Midst of Crisis

It is a press briefing. An important one. 

It will be broadcast live like all the others. A Minister of State is going to be explaining the President's almost weekly policy statements and various other state officials and high level experts will be on-hand to answer questions from eager journalists who claim to ask the questions on our behalf. It is just as well, people like me do not want to hang around other people at this time anyway.

I want to understand what the President meant when he promised free water for the populace for 3months, and free electricity for some. I want to be clear the President's tax breaks, somehow cover people like me even though I know better. And I want to know how the homeless and daily wage earners are going to access the promise of free meals without the provision of shelters even if temporary. I had suggested (to a friend in conversation of course) that perhaps managed temporary shelters would be one way of containing and protecting many people who live on our streets. That way we would likely be able to take them off the streets, provide them with food and the bare necessities for the period without worrying about their daily livelihood, monitor their health statuses and intervene effectively should there be the need. I had imagined this would be possible if organized at the level of each district in the country. Anyway, it does not look like it is a suggestion being considered in the corridors of power; even my friend was not so taken by it. So I make myself comfortable in front of my television and hope for some relief. 

The Minister goes through introductory formalities. He tells his audience, including me, that before getting into the day's briefing, there are 5 companies who want to make contributions to support the governments efforts. I am thinking what that has to do with the briefing? The contribution could have been presented already and the list of contributors run on the screens or mentioned. But the Minister cannot hear my thoughts and I am clearly not knowledgeable in these matters.

The first company is invited to the podium. The company official takes us through the protocols. He treats us to the history of the company he represents and its operations in the country. He then offers some words of encouragement to the populace in general. His company is in this with all of us, he says. Another Minister of state is now invited to receive the contribution from the company official. He mounts the podium and gets through the 'protocols', reminds us what a great thing this company is doing and blah d blah d blah. Then the cameraman gets into action. All officials must take their turn. 

Its about 20 minutes into the briefing now. I figure I will not get my answers at this briefing.  There are 4 more company presentations  to get through and I don't care much for what is being labeled as corporate social responsibility.

  

The Invisible Divides

I am privileged.

It’s a pretty strange and intensely uncomfortable place to be for me. 

Privilege relates only to the rich, the politician, royalty, people in power, those popularly known to be benefiting from current gender, racial and socioeconomic arrangements. I am clearly none of these...or so I thought. 

In many ways, I am privileged. It dawned on me as I rationalized the logical progression and impact of the corona-virus. It registers whenever I consider the objects and coverage of policy measures rolled out by governments across the world to manage Covid-19. I am left in no doubt as I watch internally displaced persons in my own country and in other countries trekking home in distressing circumstances due to the collapse of their already unsustainable livelihoods.‘We’re doomed. If we don’t die of the disease, we’ll die of hunger,’one of them is reported to have said.

 

So apparently for obvious reasons, I am privileged. 

I am embarrassed that I did not realize this earlier. I am humbled that I occupy a position of privilege because to be in a position of privilege is a privilege. 

#lendahand

#lendyourvoice

#supportthevulnerable  

A Citizen's Dilemma

I attended mass today, a great homily was delivered and I had the all is well and all will be well gait. I planned on sharing a feel good photo on Facebook therefore but something else happened. 

On my way to establish the location for a meeting in the coming week I was driving at good speed  like all the other vehicles on the road so I could have missed the woman kneeling just by the roadside in the dirt on the other side of the road, with a child strapped to her back. She was evidently wailing and throwing her hands about her in apparent despair. I am on the wrong side of the road and it’s a little too late to stop now I thought. Truth is, it was plainly going to be an inconvenience. I hope she would be here when I get back was my little prayer. I would be on that side of the road then and then I could give her something I rationalized.

20 minutes after and on my way back, the woman was still where I saw her first and in the same state. I parked off the road and reached for my purse. I figured she could use more than the usual spare change. A good meal for herself and the child and enough for their transport back wherever. She was still on her knees when I looked in the rear mirror and I reckoned I would get out of the car and offer the money. Before I could do that though she came up to my car. She would be in her late 30s though she looked slightly older and the tiny child looked something below 2years. I stretched my hand out and she took the money quickly without looking at it. Then she spoke.

It was not the ‘thank you’ or ‘God bless you’ that would normally follow the act of giving. Not that I required that but what she said was nothing I could have expected. She said in a local language (Akan): ‘I want money, to start a business so that I can look after my child’. See the thing is, I started to respond to her before she ended her statement. ‘I want money…’ and I said ‘I just gave you some…’ thinking to myself, damn it, I had a handsome sum in my hands for her even before she got to me and if only she had looked, she would have known not to even ask! Then the rest of her statement came out. I froze momentarily. Then I said quietly to her, I did not have that kind of money. She turned away quickly at those words and left me. I truly wanted to leave just as quickly. It occurred to me that I had just blundered badly into something I wasn’t even sure of.  

Was this woman a con? Is this her trade? Mind you I hardly use that route so I wouldn’t know. There have been stories of people on the streets coming up with all sorts of sob stories to get money out of road users. Curiously, many vehicles were passing by and never even slowed down at the sight of her. Was I just the unwary stranger?  Then again what if she was genuinely needy, for I happen to hold the view that anyone on the streets begging must be needy. Yet clearly my assumption of her need was wrong. Besides her request was not altogether unreasonable. After all is there not some saying about it being better to teach people to fish rather than give them fish?

So I ask myself; how should I have responded, what ought I have done? How should this state of affairs be addressed, on that woman’s part and on my part and all of my countrymen … especially in the ‘new’ Ghana in which we remain citizens?