“My resistance was the result of my questioning” - Emma Onekekou (Burkina Faso/Côte d’Ivoire) 2/4

We’re getting deeper into our conversation with Emma Onekekou feminist activist and blogger from Burkina Faso & Côte d’Ivoire. After telling us about her childhood and the doubts that sparked questions about her life at age 17 in Part 1, Emma now talks to us about how her questioning developed into full-fledged resistance.

Emma was interviewed by Françoise Moudouthe in late 2019, as part of a global project documenting girls’ resistance. The conversation was also edited into this four-part interview by Françoise. You can learn more about the series here. 

Trigger warning: this conversation contains mentions of violence and abuse which may be triggering for readers. Kindly take a moment to decide if you want to keep reading. If you do proceed, we encourage you to centre your wellbeing and stop reading at any point, as you need. 

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In the first part of our interview, you set the frame for your adolescence, and you told me about what you experienced and the questions you had. I would like to now talk about how, as a girl, you resisted the status quo. Tell me about your first act of resistance – or one of the firsts. 

Wait, let me go down memory lane. Oh yes! I was very young. I was in the fourth grade and we were preparing a dictation about a picture. In the picture, a man was coming back from the field with his three wives behind him. The text used the masculine form of “they” (from the French grammar rule that makes “ils”, the masculine form of “they”, the default plural personal pronoun instead of “elles”, the feminine form) to refer to the three characters, but I was sure that it should have used the feminine “they” since there were several women and only one man. I was not yet aware of this inequality even in the French language. 

I said to my teacher, “Sir, I don't think it's right to use 'ils'.” I was shocked by his response: “the masculine always dominates over the feminine; even if it were a newborn boy with ten women, it would still be ‘ils’”. I stubbornly told him that it was not normal and not logical. We argued a bit, but it wasn't going to change anything. But it remains my first memory of resistance.

There’s no small act of resistance! Let’s go back to when you were 17. You said it was a time full of doubt; was it time for resistance too? 

Yes, because when I asked questions, I also took the actions that went with them. I asked questions, and when I was not satisfied with the answers or the silences, I took the actions that would allow me to understand for myself. That way, for sure, I would find answers. When I questioned religion, I changed my religion. When I questioned sexuality, I practiced sexuality. When I questioned if a girl should stay home, I started leaving the house. 

My resistance was the result of my questioning. I needed answers. Instead of giving me answers, the religious and family system I was in gave me only broad principles: “Do this, that’s what is right. You don't have to think.” 

It wasn't enough for me to be told, “Fire burns, so don't go near the fire”. I thought, “I'm going to go near the fire, so I'll know how badly I'll get burned”. I wanted to do my experiments and find out for myself what it was really like. Do you know what I mean?

Yes, I think I get it. But I wonder…what questions did you need answers to, precisely? 

There were questions about what religion said. I found its teachings to be full of contradictions. For example, why are we told that African traditions are bad because they worship statues, but we kneel in front of representations of God and the Saints?

And also, I had a lot of questions about the inequalities I saw in how I was treated as a girl, in comparison to boys. Why was I supposed to dress like this, and they weren't? Why did I have to stay home while they went out partying?

I wanted to experiment with things by myself. In my family, I was the only one who stepped out of the norm. I think that's why it was so upsetting for them. And I suffered the consequences that went with it. My family didn't understand, and they reacted in a really brutal way. It was violent. I can't say everything publicly, but it was violent. Physical and psychological violence.

And what was your biggest act of resistance during your adolescence, in continuation of all this questioning?

In this period of adolescence, my greatest act of resistance was to change my religion. Going from the Catholic Church to the Evangelical Church. It may seem small, but for me it was huge.

Explain to me why it is such a significant action. 

First of all, because I was outside the norm. The Catholic Church was the foundation, the pivot of my family life. It formed the pattern of my whole childhood. On Sundays, it was mass; on Wednesdays, it was religious teachings; on Saturdays, it was scouting. All the activities, but also many vocations in the family… We have a priest and a nun in the family. Besides, I was encouraged to become a nun as well. In short, the Catholic religion is the base, and if you want to be part of the family, it is also the key to being welcomed in. 

The second reason is that it was the rebellion that allowed all the rebellion acts that followed. On the one hand, it opened my eyes to many things, like the inequalities between women and men, the fact that marriage is not mandatory, all that. But also, because I had been through so much, I knew that if I could handle the violence of the reaction to that act, the other reactions would be manageable too. So, I allowed myself to ask all the questions, to open up, and to accept myself as I was. I was no longer afraid of the consequences.

You chose to send me a photo of cowry shells. Why this choice and what does it represent? 

Cowry shells are a way for me to represent my African spirituality. Of course, I know that African spirituality is wide and deep. Still, I find that cowry shells are elements of spirituality that are there in our lives and that are easily accessible. Cowry shells came with my activism because when I really started to get involved in feminist activism, I found myself becoming more and more interested in who I am as an African. Cowry shells are also a way to communicate. It is said that when one uses cowry shells, we communicate with spirits. So, it is a way for me to stay close to my ancestors. I really love cowry shells. 

Can you give me a tangible example of what you were doing differently, once you were freed from the boundaries? 

One simple thing is the way I dress. All my life, I've been told: “A woman should not show her body. She must remain modest and discreet.” I said no to that, and I started wearing what I wanted - or rather what other people didn't want me to wear. I wore very sexy outfits; my hair was extravagant. Everyone criticised my clothing. I was criticised every day. 

But it was my way of stopping to try to be perfect. I didn't want to be perfect anymore. I just wanted to be me. I kept saying, “It's my body, it's my life, it's my choice. I'm doing what I want.”

I allowed myself to ask all the questions, to open up, and to accept myself as I was. I was no longer afraid of the consequences.

And you held on, despite all the criticism, despite the violence. What made you hold on? 

Yes, I did! That's why today, people don't tell me anything (even if they still don't approve). If I had not held on during that period of adolescence, if I had flinched, it would have been over for me. I would never have been able to express myself again.

Do I know what made me hold on? I think I am naturally rebellious. Yes, that's it. I am a rebellious person. And I have stamina. Even when I take a hard hit, I'll stay down for a month or two, but then I'll get up and keep going, even if it means hurting myself. I’ll do what I want to do. (Laughs) That's my problem, I'm too rebellious.

I’m not sure that’s a problem! (Laughs) You dared to hold on, but were you scared of anything, or were you in a “not afraid” mode? 

Naturally, I was afraid.

What were you afraid of?

In this situation, you are afraid of everything. You are afraid of your family. You are alone in your struggles because you are the only one in your environment who thinks the way you do. You are afraid of ending up alone. You are afraid of never being understood. When you are afraid, you can't be true to people. And when you try to show yourself as you are, once again, you find yourself alone. I have been alone so many times! Loneliness is scary, and I think it is the fear of loneliness that makes many people give up their resistance. 

And that is a fear that I still feel to this day because I know that nobody understands me. Most of the time, I am so rebellious that finally, the fear of being alone does not bother me anymore. But yes, there are times when I tell myself that if my mother leaves, I won't have a family anymore. So I make the effort not to get too attached to my family, so I won't need them too much when I do find myself alone. (Her voice breaks). I'm sorry for crying.

No, no! Please don’t apologize, truly. Would you like to take a break? 

No, I’m okay. I'm just saying that when you resist, you're profoundly scared. I swear you're afraid. Because I know that if one day, I find myself harassed on social media for what I do, I won't have anyone to support me. Except maybe my little sister. I won't have anyone, and it's so scary to know that you're going to be alone. So terrifying that actually, I try to live without my family, to be able to hold on in case they abandon me. 

We dive deeper into Emma’s acceptance of herself and the growth of her resistance in the next part. Click here to continue reading Emma’s story.