“My conversion to Islam was the biggest decision I’d ever made” - Tchonté Silué (Côte d’Ivoire) - 2/4

Our conversation with Tchonté Silué, an Ivorian blogger and entrepreneur in the education sector continues. She previously talked about her love for books and how hard-working she was during her childhood (Part 1). In this second part, she talks about the process of her conversion to Islam, and how she found her passion for education while studying for her master’s degree in the US.

Tchonté was interviewed by Françoise Moudouthe in late 2019, as part of a global project documenting girls’ resistance. The conversation was edited into this four-part interview by Nana Bruce-Amanquah and Chanceline Mevowanou for our #GirlsResistWA series. You can learn more about the series here.

Trigger Warning: This conversation may contain mentions of violence and abuse that may be triggering for readers. Kindly take a moment to decide if you want to keep reading. If you proceed, we encourage you to focus on your well-being and stop reading at any point if you need to.

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During your adolescence, what were the social and political moments in Côte d’Ivoire that affected you?

I think of the electoral crisis. It was pretty scary. I was 17 years-old and in my senior year. At the time, it was a context where there was one political party for people from the North, another political party for people from the West, one for people from the Central region, another in the South, and all that. Some people thought that people from the North were not Ivorians. It was a time when things were tense. I didn't discuss politics and I wasn't very comfortable listening to my classmates talk about it. I usually walked away when they started talking about it.

In my neighbourhood, which was pro-Gbagbo (the former President), we were a bit afraid because we come from the North. During the crisis itself, I left my family home because my school was in another commune. My mother cried all the time because people were burned in my neighbourhood. It was scary. Then my family left when it started to get too dangerous. We went to Korhogo, a city in the north of the country.

What did you think when you envisioned the country’s future? Did you think about it at all?

I thought about it, and I was afraid! I wondered if I would be able to come back and finish high school. I also worried because my father had stayed in Abidjan while we all left. I wondered when we would come home. But I told myself that it all would be resolved in the end. I eventually took my high school exam there, but later than usual, in August.

You first said that you were 17 and in your senior year of high school when your adolescence ended. Did you mean what you experienced during the electoral crisis or is there something else?

For coming out of adolescence, I think of something that affected me in the sense that I realised I could make my own decisions. I think of my conversion at 18. The post-election crisis was still a big part of that decision. During the crisis, I had a lot of free time and I read a lot of columns on Facebook. I read people talking about their relationship with Islam. I read their stories; I read what they were saying about Islam as well, and I was interested. I started reading the Quran, reading texts, and watching videos about Islam.

I also started to see a continuity between Islam and Christianity. I think for many non-Muslims, Islam is different from the teachings of Christianity or Judaism. But when I was reading, I realised that we are talking about the same prophets that I discovered in the Bible. I have many Muslim cousins, uncles and aunts in my family. And I felt much more comfortable with the idea of praying to God without an intermediary. I contacted the daughter of the Imam in my neighbourhood and talked with her. Then I went to her father and that's how I decided to convert.

When you were learning about Islam for potential conversion, did you do it thinking that you had to hide it or was it something you did openly?

It wasn’t a problem for my father. When I began, he bought the Quran for me. I spoke to him about it, and I asked him to discuss it with my mother. I don’t think I was going to hide it anyway because the Imam told me that before converting, I had to tell my parents first. I informed my mother, but when I did so I believe she thought it was a joke. I was sitting with her and one of our neighbours and I said: “I’m converting to Islam.”. My mom laughed and replied, “Why? Do you have a Muslim boyfriend or something?”. I knew that she thought I was joking, but I considered her informed of my decision and so, I could proceed. I converted the next day. Later, we had a deeper conversation about it.

And how did that conversation go?

It was tense! (Laughs) You see when I told her about my reading, she said: “Oh ok, you’re the smart one in the family, that’s good.” She didn’t take it well at first. It took time, but in the end, she accepted it. It got better when I went to study in the US. My goal was to show her that changing religion didn’t mean I stopped loving her as my mother. I brought her lots of gifts each time I came home. And she visited the US for the first time while I was there. Then we started making videos together to learn Senufo and it made us grow closer.

Earlier, when you said, “I converted”, what did it look like for you back then?

The process was very smooth, actually. I had to recite the Islamic profession of faith. I went to the Imam’s; he lives near my place. I told him that I had informed my parents and that I was ready. He recited the profession of faith, and I repeated after him: “Achhadou an lâ ilâha illallâh, wa ach-hadou anna mouhammadan abdouhou wa rasoûlouh”, to say that I attest that there is only one God, Allah and that his messenger is Muhammad. Two other men were there, but it wasn’t specially for me; they were there to see the Imam. When we finished, some blessings were said. And that was it. That’s how my conversion went.

How did you feel when it was over?

I was very happy to have taken the leap because I wanted to do so for a long time; I simply hesitated. When I finished the profession of faith, one of the men present chanted. I didn’t know precisely what it was, but I was pretty moved. The conversion was the biggest decision I’ve ever made. A decision that wasn’t linked to my family. It was like a split. That’s why I said it was the moment adolescence stopped for me.

Today, as an adult how would you describe yourself in a few words?

When I introduce myself now, I say that I’m a young Ivorian, passionate about reading, traveling, and writing. I’m addicted to social media, and I want to change the Ivorian education system.

Did you always dream of working in the education sector?

When I was a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. I dreamed of building a hospital for the rich and a hospital for the poor. I thought of two hospitals because I thought I would use the money I would get at the hospital for the rich to provide care to the poor in a cheaper way, or for free. I gave up the dream of becoming a doctor because I realised that I couldn't go to the OR. I mean, I couldn't handle the sight of some diseases. So I said OK, I'm not going to medicine anymore.

After graduation, I went into finance, on a whim, by chance, and I realised that finance wasn't for me either. But I finished a bachelor’s degree in finance – two years in Côte d’Ivoire, at the International University of Grand-Bassam, and the last two years in the United States, at Georgia State University in Atlanta. Then I did a one-year master's degree in social entrepreneurship at Hult International Business School in San Francisco. It was during the master’s program that I discovered my passion for education. I'm still in this idea of being able to have financial resources that would allow me to help less privileged people. It's in education that it's transposed.

What happened during the master's degree that sparked this passion?

During the master’s, everything was more active. We worked on projects that we presented in class; we gave our opinion, and it was more interactive. As a result, I realised that it is easier to learn that way: when you are involved in the learning process.

My way of thinking before I went to the United States to continue my studies is different from the way I think now. For me, it wasn't just being in the United States, it was being in a different education system. An education system with the spirit of volunteerism and action. I discovered that it's not just school. It's not just going to school, you sit down, you work, you give... Education is not just that. There are other things. It was a big change for me.

When you describe yourself and say that you want to transform education in Côte d’Ivoire, what does that mean?

I would like to create this interaction that I just mentioned in schools. I realised that our education is too passive. We just sit and listen to the teacher and then we repeat what they told us on the copy sheets. As the semesters went on in college and with the events I attended, I realised that we have an education issue because we don't learn to think for ourselves. It's just what other people tell us that we keep, and then that's it. We grow with that. It's really when I lived there that I saw that the way some people think, maybe whom I grew up with, is too limited. There are a lot of intolerant people who don't understand that you can be different.

I know that there are not many people who will have the opportunity to study abroad and discover everything that I have discovered. I would say that it is also the books that saved me, otherwise, I would have been a bit stuck too. So, I have to give back what I have learned to my community. That's kind of how this idea of: "I want to make a difference" came about.

When did you start wanting to change things around you? What triggered that?

This idea of making a difference started in college. When I came to the United States, I discovered community engagement. I was involved in clubs and volunteering. I was with Habitat for Humanity, which builds low-cost homes for people to own. I was volunteering with the International Students Association at the university to build houses. I remember my first great experience with that organization. There was a trip to Florida. We went and worked for a week or two. On the last day, we were introduced to the owner, and she was so happy, so content. I thought, "Wow, this is what I want to do. I want to put smiles like that on people's faces."

Did it ever occur to you that your potential to be someone who could change the world around you was limited by the fact that you were a girl?

It never occurred to me that “because I'm a girl, I can't do this”. Then again people will always tell you, "No, you're meant to have children, there are things you can't do." For instance, I remember a discussion with my father. I said that I wanted to work in international organizations like UNICEF and UNESCO, which would mean traveling a lot. My father, who was my first supporter, told me: “Since you have to get married and have children, you can't move around like that all the time”. And when I answered that he travels well, he said yes, but that he is a man. Apart from that, I have never said to myself that I can't change things because I am a woman. But I realize that unfortunately, people try to limit us in certain areas. I decided that this would not be the case.

I had already become a feminist. I had already discovered Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who tells us: "Never accept that someone says ‘because you are a woman’ as a sufficient justification for not doing something."

When you call yourself a feminist, what does that mean to you, and how did this coming into feminism happen for you?

I believe that men and women should have the same rights and opportunities. To be able to do what they want, regardless of their gender. Growing up, I was never told, "You can't do that, because..." What I was told, for example, was more like, "Because you're a girl, you have to be in the kitchen, you have to do the chores. Don't stay with the boys' group, you have to go with the women's group." I wasn't told, "You're a woman, you can't." In terms of intellectual ability, I never said to myself that I can't do this or that because I'm a girl.

I didn't know about feminism at that time. Until I discovered Chimamanda's video, “We should all be feminists.” And that's when I started to realise that some things in society are wrong. I noticed that the married woman is considered more important than the unmarried one, that men always assume that if a woman has money, it must be another man who gave it to her. That being a girl is quite dangerous in the world. Forced marriages, honour killings. I haven't faced these difficulties personally, but I realised that a lot of girls encounter them.

It was that time in college that made me aware of certain things. I can't think of a specific day when I said: "I am a feminist". It was a natural process. And afterward, I said to myself that the best way to help these girls is once again to help them to educate themselves. So that they too can say, "Yes, this is what the world thinks a girl should be, but I don't think it's like that. I think I'm a whole person and I can decide to live my life the way I want."

In the third part, Tchonté will share her thoughts on resistance, writing, and her Eulis Centre. Click here for the next part.