“I was failed by the systems that were supposed to protect me”- Musu Bakoto Sawo (The Gambia) - 3/5

Our conversation with Musu Bakoto Sawo, lawyer and human rights defender from The Gambia, continues.

Previously, we discussed her girlhood and adolescence (Part 1), and her experiences growing up with the people who influenced her journey (Part 2). In this third part, Musu shares her story of being forced into marriage as a child, despite being a visible child rights advocate in The Gambia. 

Musu was first interviewed by Françoise Moudouthe in late 2019, as part of the global project documenting girls’ resistance. The conversation has been edited into this five-part interview by Jama Jack, for our #GirlsResistWA series. You can find out 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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When I first heard your story, I was struck by the fact that your adolescence was a time of deep paradoxes. You had been a renown advocate against child marriage for years, and yet you became a child bride yourself. Can you tell me more about that?

When I was 14 years old, my parents married me off to a man who lived abroad but would come to The Gambia twice a year. I had to be married to someone I didn't know, whom I had never met, and who didn't even live here. Often, these marriages are arranged between cousins, but I was not related to this man at all. His sister was a family friend, and that was how the marriage was arranged. 

I was forced to go to his family home every weekend, even though he wasn't here.  There, I had to help with the cooking and cleaning. I was basically taking on adult responsibilities. My childhood ended quite early because I was forced to grow up. I wasn't considered a child anymore. I was an adult because I was someone else's wife. Hence, I had to act that way. I had to dress a certain way, and just do everything that is expected of a married adult woman in our society. It didn't matter where I lived. These were the expectations.

How did you feel about being forced into marriage - you, the advocate?

I had become a victim of the various things that I was advocating against. I would have never imagined that I would identify as a child bride in my lifetime. However, I couldn't do anything because there were no laws against these practices in The Gambia at the time. I was very familiar with the fact that nothing would be done to protect me because there wasn't any law at the time, and parents were free to do whatever they wanted when it comes to making decisions on the marriage of their child. My mother didn't have a say in this decision. She didn't want it, but she couldn't say no to her husband because he was her legal guardian. 

It was not instant, but the anger did come much later. I was angered by the whole situation. I felt that the people who were supposed to be there for me and protect me didn't do that. I was angry at the people who solemnised my marriage as a child. I wasn't speaking to my family. I wasn't talking to anyone because I was angry at them. I was angry at the people at school who made fun of me once they found out that I’d been married off. 

And I was angry that I was failed by the systems that were supposed to protect me. From the time the marriage was solemnised to when it was consummated, I felt that the State failed me, and that activism is just a farce. It couldn’t be real because why would something like this happen to me when I was already a visible child in the country? 

Did you try to use your advocacy skills to stop the marriage?

I had sleepless nights thinking about what I could do, where I could go and what could happen to me. Some of my close friends ran away from home because they were forced to get married. They ran away to the children's shelter in The Gambia, hoping that they would be protected, only for that system to return them back to their homes. They were then married off and shipped abroad, with no consequences. 

I come from a family that didn't have anything at that point. If I ran away from home and went to that same shelter, what would happen to me? If I did that and was returned home like they did with my friends, my parents would never accept me back into their home.  

I did something else: I threatened my parents that if they didn't let me go to school, I would kill myself.  As a result, they negotiated with the groom's family and had them understand that they wouldn’t pull me out of school, even if he came to The Gambia. They insisted that I would complete high school before the marriage could be consummated. 

How did you find the strength to continue your education, even in the face of such adversity? 

I had promised myself that I didn't just want to be a statistic. I didn't want to be just another number when they're talking about the prevalence of child marriage in The Gambia. I wanted to be so much more. When it became so difficult that I almost gave up, I told myself that I couldn’t because I didn't want that to be my narrative.

School was important for me, because I felt that I wasn't good at anything that wasn't school-related. Domestic chores were a hassle, and I was always fighting with my mother about those things. However, no one had to remind me to pick up my books, do my school assignments, or memorise my scripts for plays I was acting in. No one had to teach me how to write poetry. Learning was a priority for me and having to give that up to be someone else's wife was something I had to fight against. 

I wanted to help women and girls. I wanted my story to be that of a positive story of resilience, of fighting patriarchy and advancing women's rights. And I knew that would not happen if I gave up and just became someone else's wife. I wanted my story to be that I fought against those adversities, and I am a winner. 

Creating that story took a lot of resistance from Musu. We learn more about her acts of resistance from girlhood to adulthood in the next part. Click here to read Part 4.