“We are feminists because we love freedom” – Constance Yaï (Côte d’Ivoire) 1/2

Constance Yaï is an Ivorian feminist, author, and professor specializing in rehabilitation for speech impairment, founder of l'Association Ivoirienne des Droits des Femmes (AIDF – the Ivorian Association for Women's Rights), and a former Minister of Solidarity and Women’s Advancement.

While on a trip to Senegal, our Chanceline Mevowanou engaged in conversation with Constance who was participating in a convening of several young feminists from Niger, Ivory Coast, and Benin. In this conversation, she tells us about the birth of her feminist engagement (Part 1) and about her vision for building an intergenerational feminist movement in Africa (Part 2). 

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Madame Constance Yaï, thank you for agreeing to talk to us. Could you introduce yourself? 

My name is Constance Yaï. I live in Ivory Coast, 4-5 km away from Abidjan, in an area that is gradually recovering from the country’s 2011 post-electoral crisis. I’m a member of the AIDF for which I currently coordinate activities with women from rural areas. 

What’s AIDF?

AIDF is l'Association Ivoirienne des Droits des Femmes (the Ivorian Association for Women's Rights). It’s one of Ivory Coast’s first feminist organizations. It was founded in 1992 in the aftermath of a dramatic event we witnessed. 

We’ll talk about AIDF shortly. Before we started, I explained to you that Eyala explores what it means for African women, non-binary and gender-diverse people to be feminists. This leads me to ask you: What does “being a feminist” mean to you? 

For me, being a feminist first means becoming aware of the recurrent and permanent injustices women face. Then it is being vocal about this and becoming active so that it changes. Observing and noticing that it is an injustice is one thing. Organizing to change it is another. Being a feminist means using one’s voice and position to change the status of women. And this does not have to be done only through being in a feminist organization. 

Before starting your more affirmed feminist engagement, was there a moment in your childhood that marked you and that influenced your feminist journey ?

I think of when I was in college, a few years before graduation. The thing that stuck with me was my interaction with my father. He was hard on my mother, but he admired his daughters. My mother’s mother was one of the greatest Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) practitioners in the region. My father, when he married my mother, told her that none of her daughters would go through FGM. That was the first condition he set.

Then he said that all his daughters had to be literate; they had to be as educated as the boys. No one would stop studying without having a high school diploma. My father often said that a woman's first husband is her work. He used to say, "There is no rush to get married. I will be here to protect you; I will be here to provide for you. Don't get walked over by anyone. Even your brothers don't have the right to walk over you because you are all my children, and you have the same rights."

Unfortunately, he didn't think he would leave us early. By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I had lost him. I was greatly traumatized by his passing. My life took a turn. I told myself that he was gone but I would do everything I promised him while he was alive.

Your father's words certainly marked you and motivated you to begin  your feminist journey. How did that engagement start? 

I started by observing things around me. It's not an exaggeration to say that everything around me is unfair when it comes to women's issues. When you have a father who is always right about your mother; when you have boys at school who take up all the space at recess and girls who shrink away when the boys come... In my language, I would hear people say, “There is no one, there are only women”. You ask if anyone is in the house and they say, “No, there's no one, there are only women”. What I’m referring to is something that happened 40-50 years ago.

And at the same time, I saw that when people had no more arguments to explain the injustices made to women, they used tradition as an excuse. All these women who do not want to accept the discriminatory status of women are considered protesters. And I reacted to that. I became interested in the cultural dimension of women’s status. As a student, I was very active in student unions, and in protest movements.

At some point, I said to myself that it was not enough. I needed to meet other women who thought like me to drive our projects, to go further. My voice alone was not enough. You don't have to be an activist in an organization to be recognized as a feminist. But at the same time, you must have respect for those who are involved in organizations. I think that feminism is this thought, this philosophy that admits freedom. And we are feminists because we love freedom.

When you started becoming more involved, did you have your family’s support? 

My mother was unhappy to see me involved in the fight against FGM. I became the spokesperson for women who condemned and attacked a practice that my grandmother was proud of. My grandmother didn’t have the joy to excise her granddaughters; she thought she was doing the right thing. She would tell me “I’m only doing this in women’s interest because men won’t marry you if you’re not circumcised.” I would reply “What men? We won’t marry men from this community.” I had many talks with my grandmother. I disagreed with her, I love her very much, I listened to her a lot and I believe our bond helped me. She eventually told me “If that’s what you believe in, go for it. But you will suffer because of it.” Once I had her blessing, I felt that nothing could stop me. 

Let’s talk about AIDF. How did it come to life? 

As I said earlier, it was founded after girls were raped on Abidjan’s campus in 1992. People were protesting the single party system, and against the student’s conditions. Students were protesting on campus after many women were raped. With the advent of the multi-party system, protests were systematically shut down. The police force came to campus, beat the students, and raped the girls.

We decided we had enough. This was uncalled for. We said that it wasn’t normal and that in addition to being raped, they were subjected to repression and beatings on campus. To express how fed up we were, we created this association. To say that women have specific needs that must be respected even in the context of conflicts or crises.

What were AIDF’s activities?

I mentioned my relationship with my grandmother who practiced FGM. We ran a campaign against FGM. We were delighted to see that the Ivorian government agreed with us and decided that it was time to vote, pass and implement a law against this practice. We organized tours in the police and army stations to inform them on what the law says about the protection of women within the family. This was in 1992. No one talked about spousal abuse or domestic violence. We raised awareness on the issue for security forces, so much so that today, we have in Ivory Coast, offices dedicated to GBV run by female officers. We also reported the crimes. There was a young girl who was much talked about in the Ivory Coast. It was in 1996 this time. Her name was Fanta Keita.

Yes, we often hear about her from current young feminists.

She was married against her will, and tired of being repeatedly raped, she slit her husband’s throat. She was arrested and we organized a range of activities around the fact that no Ivorian law allowed the arrest of a little girl. We put out a whole arsenal to show the government that another solution had to be found for this little girl. We were supported by international media with offices in Abidjan to take up media space. On every platform, we would take up a microphone and say that if anyone had to be convicted, it was the State who didn’t do anything to protect this girl, and then to a certain extent the community and the girl’s family.

And while she was held in prison, we would organize protests in front of the prison. She was released. She was in preventive detention, but unfortunately, this lasted 11 months. The government was very embarrassed, and the solution they found was to take the girl out of prison and give her to us, and recognize that AIDF had done what it should have done. This is the origin of the jurisprudence that allows many organizations today to lead this kind of fight and to use it to defend young girls who are in the same situation. It is the Fanta Keita legal precedent.

Congratulations! 

Thank you! There is also the hierarchization of the male-female power dynamic in marriages. This is something we asked to be legally corrected for nearly 15 years and that has been granted now.

In Ivory Coast, both men and women are heads of the household. It used to be solely the men and they would make so many out-of-place decisions. Sometimes, the husband didn’t have a job and the wife was the household’s breadwinner, but she would need his permission to open a bank account or to travel. We’re happy to see that our country has evolved a little in terms of these issues.

We also led the fight for women to head our institutions. We spoke up about the lack of representation. During one of our meetings with the President, he told us “For nearly 15 years, you spoke against the fact that there is no woman-led institution in this country. And you said it was discriminatory. Here’s a surprise for you, I’m appointing a woman…” This is how we had the first woman head of an institution. I swear he thought he righted a great wrong, by appointing a single woman with ten other men. I think that’s sad.

When AIDF was founded, there was no women’s organization celebrating International Women’s Day on March 8. Our first nonprofit celebration was watched with curiosity. The struggle remains. There are obstacles to be overcome, there are battles to be waged. We've made some progress and we can do even more. I'm so optimistic because more of our daughters, our sisters, and our granddaughters are getting involved in the fight.

In the second part, we’ll talk about Constance Yaï’s vision for building an intergenerational feminist movement in Africa.

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“I think it's important to hold each other with grace in our healing process” - Lorato Palesa Modongo (Botswana) 5/5

This is the fifth and final part of our conversation with Lorato Palesa Modongo, African feminist and psychologist from Botswana. 

We have explored Lorato’s early feminist awakening (Part 1); her education and experiences as a social psychologist (Part 2); her thoughts and experiences in African feminist movements and spaces (Part 3); and her observations on the tensions that sometimes hinder intergenerational African feminist movement building, as well as possible solutions to bridge the gap (Part 4). In this last part, we discuss personal and collective healing to support our movements, Lorato’s current work with the African Union and her journey towards self-reconciliation to unearth her vision of herself. 

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Every time we get together in feminist spaces and the issue of intergenerational movement building comes up, it's always that same cycle of blame, and the conversation hasn't really moved from that point towards solutions. What would that step look like in your own thoughts and based on the experiences you have had? 

I think for me it is firstly, trying to understand. If we get to the ‘why’, we will understand that it becomes the issue of agency, self-determination, and using what you have in that moment. If we go to the ‘why’ we will see that the conversation is bigger than just us being deliberate about thinking that the other group is inefficient or to blame. We will find that there are other interconnected things in the background. After the untangling, I think it's important in our healing process, to hold each other with grace. Lots of grace. I am really lucky that I've sort of been in spaces where there's lots of grace; where even if I've made a mistake, there is grace. 

This grace will actually allow us to forgive, because moving from blaming also includes acknowledging and forgiving. Sometimes even when there's not been any ask for forgiveness, you forgive, you give grace, and you chart out new paths. 

“After the untangling, I think it’s important in our healing process, to hold each other with grace. Lots of grace. ”

Let the conversation be, “why are they not giving us space?” Then we arrive at: ‘they're not giving us space because they were socialized in a society that believes that when you are young, you don't know anything’.  Because that is how they grew up and influenced their processes. Nobody listened to them when they were younger. Even subconsciously, they still hold the trauma, and it comes into the spaces that we engage in.

So, we can hold the wonder of the knowledge and all the immense work that they have done, while we also hold them as these people who are also untangling the complexities of their lives. And they just want what we all want, which is freedom and emancipation. I think that's what it looks like for me. 

What opportunities do you see or what opportunities can we create to now facilitate this healing, this forgiveness, this creation of space for grace and then moving forward towards liberation? 

Mentorship! I think mentorship presents a big opportunity. And I’m talking about deliberate mentorship where we can get to hear each other's stories even on a personal level. I think there's something that humanises somebody when you get to hear their story. We can create different platforms where we can be mentored. Also in mentorship, it's not just the older person filling you up. You're also filling them up. 

Secondly, I think there's so much opportunity for documenting. We all need to document, do archiving work, memory work, go back to our communities and engage with those older women and write whatever they're giving us down. Let's digitise it. Let's thrust it into the spaces so that people can engage with it. Let's form partnerships with memory institutions in our different countries, in different communities, to see how we can amplify the work that's being done by these memory institutions. 

I think there are many opportunities, but there are also opportunities for funding. How can we make collaborative spaces where we are funded to realise all these things that we're talking about? We always leave the issue of funding behind. If you don't have access to funding, you’re probably not going to do a lot of work, particularly in the current economy. It is a conversation that needs to be had. How do we ensure that? How do we compensate these voices that we say we want to legitimize as well? Because I don't think speakers in the Global North speak for free, right? So, my grandmother, when she's teaching me things, why can’t she be compensated for that work? That's part of the work of legitimizing people's voices and knowledge systems and the knowledge production. 

Tell me about the work you're doing currently in Burkina Faso and how it fits in with your feminist journey, and all of the things that we've been discussing.

I'm currently with the African Union Center for girls’ and women's education in Africa, AU/CIEFFA. Their headquarters is here in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. I'm currently the Gender Research Analyst. So, in terms of the policy work that's being done here, we look at the numbers and look at the qualitative data on girls' education in the continent. What are some of the patterns and trends that we're seeing in order to put that into policy when we are strategising on governments’ need to invest in girls’ education in Africa?

We also know the issue of data in Africa. We don't have access to reliable, consistent data. So, we can’t paint a real and true picture. But now we say, in the absence of statistics, the qualitative narrative counts. What are the voices of the people on the ground? How can we amplify these voices to make a case for governments, for member states to return girls to school? That's the work I'm doing. 

You’ve only been there for a year or so. Have you found feminist space there? 

I don't speak French, so it's really difficult to authentically connect with people here because it is a Francophone country. Language is such a powerful tool, not just for communication, but also for community. So unfortunately, I haven't been able to do that yet.

We are getting close to wrapping up. Are there things that you wanted to share that we haven’t touched on?

Yes, I think in the discussion of intergenerational feminism, there's a lot of collective healing that needs to happen. There's a need for collective rest, collective joy, and collective love as well. And what does that love look like? It means love for community and love for self, because love for self includes things like discipline, integrity, accountability, and being guided by ethical feminist principles. And I know that we define these for ourselves, but there's also a need for collective definition of the feminist principles that guide us. 

And I want that soft landing for all of us. I think we deserve to glow. We're fighting but we are glowing because there's joy, there's love, there's peace, and there's so much going on. We all deserve that in our individual spaces, but in the collective as well. We carry a lot of generational trauma. The voices of our great, great grandmothers which were not able to be articulated, and their dreams which were not able to be realised because of how the system stifled them is traumatic, generationally.

I think it's important for us to be the generation that the trauma ends with, or at least for the burden to lessen. I don't want my children carrying the burden that I did. I think healing works - healing the brain, healing the mind, healing the spirit, healing the heart, and healing the body. Eating healthily, hydrating while we're doing this work, resting, showing up as healed as much as we can, right? I think that is very, very important. 

You talked about glowing and I had a specific question about your red lipstick, coming to this interview, because it's your signature and it’s fire! I’m actually surprised it’s not on you today. [Laughs] What's the story?

Actually, there was no profound, big symbolic story. I just kind of liked it and  there is no deep profound story to it. I just liked it. I kind of like fashion. It is cute. 

Do you find yourself in moments where you feel like you need to reconcile that cute, “I am here, I am fashionable” look with the idea of feminists as not beautiful.

Actually, being cute came as a result of the reconciliation I did. I got a scholarship from the Mandela Rhodes Foundation (MRF), and they have four development workshops for their scholars - on leadership, education, entrepreneurship, and reconciliation.The reconciliation is on self-reconciliation. The question was what do we want to reconcile within ourselves. My answer was “I want to be soft and cute.” And once again, I'm going to honour my friend Iris because we have had multiple conversations on this. 

I grew up as a tomboy. At the time, I thought it was a choice, but it wasn't really a choice. I was being a tomboy because I kind of wanted to look like the boys. I realised they didn't torment me as much as they tormented the other girls we played with.  So, I was trying to protect myself by being tomboyish. That was my signature look - the baggy pants. Then later going through the MRF process I realised that I actually enjoyed playing around with fashion. I want the quirky earrings. I want the red lipstick. I want the shades. I want the cute dress. So, the reconciliation led me to knowing that I can still look that way while also doing the work, because it's also a way of confronting the misrepresentation of what feminism is. 

And to end, please tell me : what is your feminist life motto? 

I know it's a cliché but truly “the personal is political.” I draw a lot from that because even when I'm thinking, this is just my own personal experience in the house, I realise how it's connected to politics. 

But if I have space for another, it is the remembrance that feminism has given me words to articulate things. And in my articulation, I felt like I was breathing. And when you breathe, you’re alive. So that's my feminist motto: to continuously navigate and untangle and make sense, and in the process, breathe. Then I'm able to take strides in the world. 

I love it. Thank you so much, Lorato. I'm really glad that I got to have this conversation with you. 

Connect with Lorato!

Or give her a shout out? Find her on Twitter @LoratoPalesa

Let us know your thoughts in the comments below, or let’s chat on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

“We don't owe anyone a sanitised feminism” - Lorato Palesa Modongo (Botswana) 4/5

We are in conversation with Lorato Palesa Modongo, an African feminist and psychologist from Botswana. 

In our series of conversations on intergenerational African feminist movement building, we have explored Lorato’s early feminist awakening (Part 1); her education and experiences as a social psychologist (Part 2); and her thoughts and experiences in African feminist movements and spaces (Part 3). In this part, we get into the heart of intergenerational feminist movement building, with Lorato sharing her observations on the tensions that sometimes hinder progress, as well as possible solutions to bridge the gap. 

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Let's now get into feminist movement building as you've experienced it in Botswana, but also at a continental level. There are many networks that you are engaged in that are doing work that contributes to our collective movement. What are your thoughts on feminist movement building on the continent? 

I think it has a huge opportunity to bring lots of change. I think there is space for that collective organising, and a space for us to think of different ways in which we can do that. So just because it's collective doesn't mean it's like one bullet. It means we are bringing in different ways of organising our experiences, our challenges, and best practices, to make sense of the complexities that we bring, to confront the violent contradictions that we are faced with and to come up with some solutions. It's a bit difficult, but I think there is an opportunity for us to build it to be better, which is where the intersectionality part comes in. 

We can't build the movement if we're not going to confront classism, and if we're not going to confront our privilege. I think there is an opportunity for the movement to grow, but there's also an opportunity for the movement to deeply reflect on the contradictions that we bring. And to also say, “What does African feminism look like for us?” I know there is the African Feminist Charter and I really love it. When I saw the document for the first time I was like, “Oh, I love this.” But there's also a need to continuously redefine what this looks like for us. Now we are having Generation Z with social media and digital spaces being used for organising. Where are we going? What are we saying? I think we have many pockets of opportunities to evolve and to confront the challenges and the privileges that we have, and to confront where we are not doing well. 

“There is an opportunity for the African feminist movement to grow, but there’s also an opportunity for us to deeply reflect on the contradictions that we bring.”

We'll come back to that part about confronting where we're not doing well. You mentioned the generations. Usually there's a lot of talk about this lingering tension between the generations. What have your observations been in those spaces as a young feminist, engaging with people who probably have been doing the work even before you were born, but also people who have come after you? 

I'll start with the workplace maybe. It was because of feminist work that women then had to take roles as decision makers. However, the oppressed, in order to function in any oppressive system, somewhat tend to mimic the behaviours of the oppressor as a coping mechanism. And those were the generations that had passed. They had done the work to get into spaces, but now they're in these spaces and for them to function in that patriarchal system, they have to mimic those patriarchal behaviours to be seen, validated, or even legitimised as leaders. So, you see that the tools they use to lead are not necessarily the liberating tools. It is because that's what they had available to survive. For example, embracing being ‘soft’ may have been seen as a weakness for them as ‘women leaders’. 

But we also acknowledge the repercussions of the softness. And the softness I speak of is kindness and compassion and vulnerability. It is in boundaries and honouring yourself as a person. It’s in valuing, seeing, and holding yourself in high regard while also remaining firm. That's what we mean by soft landings. But they couldn't do that. Why? Because the world would say, “you see why we're not bringing women to lead. Now they're coming here with their sensitive emotions. What is compassion? You cannot be compassionate to your workers. You have to be mean to prove that you are a firm boss/leader.”  This is just an example of behaviour in the workplace, but that is how this system has been operating. But as the younger generation, we know that you can hold and view people with compassion while also holding them accountable. Many truths and emotions can exist at the same time. 

And with grace, I must say.

And lots of grace. And remembering that I can still do the same for myself. I can hold myself accountable, and even reprimand myself while also doing it with some grace. Those are the newer conversations that are coming in around vulnerability and honouring ourselves.

The other issue that I'm seeing is that the “too muchness” of the younger feminists kind of confronts older feminists. They're like, “no, maybe don't ruffle the system that much, because we need to be diplomatic.” And I understand this, but why do you need to be diplomatic and nice to a system that's not diplomatic and nice to you? Patriarchy will never be nice to you. The day patriarchy decides, “all women”, it is all women indeed. It does not even care whether in 1992, you were nice and diplomatic.

It really doesn’t discriminate between the “good” women and the ones who are seen as “bad”.

It does not discriminate. It will eat the woman who is cooking at home 24/7 the way it eats the woman it says is a “whore”. There is no sieve. And I think that is what I see… the older generations thinking we have to package ourselves a bit more nicely and diplomatically in order to be palatable.

I actually had a conversation with one of the older women a while ago. She was telling me, “I'm uncomfortable with that word, with that feminist thing. I’m uncomfortable with it, because it will make partners run away thinking that we hate men.  And I think it's important for us to continuously articulate that we need men in these platforms. We need men because that way people would identify more with our work.” And I told her what I told you now, that it is feminist work. And people need to see feminist work as exactly what we are doing now. We don't owe anyone a sanitised feminism. 

I think that is a problem for me; that the older generation… those that I've engaged with, they want the nice package. They want diplomacy, sanitisation, and over-negotiating. But you cannot negotiate with your oppressor. [Laughs] Negotiate what? They don't negotiate your life. When laws and regulations are made, people are not negotiating your life. When girls are being forced into early marriages, female genital mutilation, forced out of school, raped, not allowed into political spaces, nobody negotiates it. So why should you negotiate in your fighting and resisting and organising and challenging?

Also, how do you even negotiate when you're not on the same level and do not hold the same power?

Exactly. So those are some of the main contradictions I have observed in the work. But I love the lessons because they say, “we've been through that as well”. And they've won. I mean, the Beijing generation and so many other movements have won in many ways. Even in pre-colonial times, they have won. And what is it that they did that assisted them with winning that we can bring in? Maybe they are right, and there are certain things we have to do. But maybe we are also right about certain things. So, I think we can borrow from them as much as they can borrow from us. 

So, there is the level of generational differences that are linked to age but within the movement also, there are those generational differences tied to when your journey started or when you started doing the work. What have you observed in that regard?

Those things are definitely there. As long as you recognise the sexism, but you don't recognise the ageism, then there's a problem. Now you want me to respect you and you want to have power just because you're older or just because you have been in the movement for longer? Then there is the (de)legitimising of people's voices by virtue of how long they have been in the movement. But we know that people may be in the movement earlier or later based on their agency. 

I think it's important for us to remember that being in feminist spaces doesn't mean that those power issues are not present. It doesn't mean that negotiating power is eliminated just because we are feminists, because power dynamics move in different pockets. We may be in a feminist space, but who's richer? Who's more articulate? Who's been in the movement for long? Who has been to Oxford? Who has been to one of the no name institutions around the continent? So, the untangling of power will always be there, even in feminist movements. Knowing that power doesn't cease to exist just by virtue of us being in feminist spaces if we're not going to confront other pockets where power lies. So, it is a big thing. The issue of ageism, ableism, the hierarchy, the power, the legitimate voice because of age, and now the longevity of your experiences.

In some spaces, we do hear older feminists decry the issue of erasure and use that as a way of holding on to the power that they've managed to have because they feel the generations after them try to erase the work that they have done. How do we create a balance, really?

I think two things. Each generation has to be self-determined. What are your current issues? What are you faced with? What are the tools that you have now? What can you do to confront the issues in front of you? 

So maybe in the process of self-determining, I do acknowledge that the other generations then forgot about the work, but I do not think it is a deliberate exercise to erase them. I think it was because of representation and documentation, and it's all linked to so many other things. Why don't we read about our feminist pain in our spaces? It is a political reason, so that you think that you have started things; you don't know about the tools that exist; you don't know the journey that people have taken; you don't get the renewed energy and renewed spirits to do the fight, and to honour people who have done the work before you. So, you're like a hamster on a wheel. 

It has to be deliberate when you erase people's voices, knowledge, faces, and even their names. I don't think the younger feminists are erasing for erasure’s purpose. I think it was just the way things were, where you can’t access information, but I think younger generations are now using the tools that they have to capture, in real time, the voices of feminists now and to also dig and search and do memory work. They are also doing archiving work to say, “Who do we remember? How do we remember them? When do we remember them? And what is the purpose of remembrance and memory”. And also going out of our way to re-thrust them into the public domain. 

Are there examples that strongly demonstrate this, and that could serve as inspiration for how we move forward and past this tension?

I remember when Winnie Mandela passed on, and the news was broken, the Western media said that “the villain is now gone”. Thanks to social media and other digital platforms, the feminist movement on the continent said “no, not this time”. I watched the wave from the Western media shift, to the Winnie that we have gotten to love and hold in those contradictions that she represented. And holding both the wonder of her being and her work and some of the issues that we were contesting about that she had allegedly done. Seeing her being represented and honoured as that was such a powerful moment.

That is the honouring, that is the remembrance of the women who have done the work and are being thrust into the public domain. And I think that's what younger generations are doing now with the tools that we have. I think we're trying to sort that out. I think we are. There are many older feminists’ works I enjoy learning about, including from Botswana, the intellectual works of Dr Godisang Mookodi, Dr Sethunya Mosime, and many others. 

In the final part of this conversation, Lorato talks about personal and collective healing to support our movements, her current work with the African Union and her journey towards self-reconciliation. Click here to read it.

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We’d love to hear your thoughts on this first part. Let us know in the comments below, or let’s chat on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

“Reflecting on the progress already made by people who walked before me gives me courage” - Lorato Palesa Modongo (Botswana) 3/5

This is the third part of our conversation with Lorato Palesa Modongo, an African feminist and psychologist from Botswana. 

In our series of conversations exploring intergenerational African feminist movement building, we have explored Lorato’s early feminist awakening (Part 1) and her education and experiences as a social psychologist (Part 2). In this part, we explore her thoughts and experiences in African feminist movements and spaces.  

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We’ve talked about building the future we deserve and what that looks like for you. You're actively involved in different feminist spaces as part of the work you do. What has been your experience? 

The experience is a myriad of emotions. I believe that the world can achieve positive change because we have seen it. Who knew that two black women right now can be sitting talking; two African women exchanging ideas? We can publicly share our thoughts and state our ambitions without fear of backlash. We go to school, we vote, and we run for political office.

So, I know that humans have the capability and capacity to change the world. That helps me when I feel tired and drained. Even in the moments when I feel disillusioned, and feel like there is no progress, reflecting on the progress already made by people who have walked before me gives me the courage that one day, hundred years from now, our work will matter. So that is helpful. 

What does that recognition look like? Is it something that you do internally or is it also an external recognition that goes to those people who have laid the path? 

Yes, it goes both ways. It's internal, with me constantly remembering and acquainting myself with the work that has been done before. It is also recognising even the voices that may not be legitimised as sources of knowledge. It is observing women in the villages doing the work and acknowledging that even when they don't name themselves as feminists, even when they don't name their work as feminist work, I'm able to see that this is actually it. That's the internal recognition. 

The external recognition goes into something as simple as paying homage to their work and incorporating it in our own work to show people that what I'm feeling and thinking is not new. I may be articulating it in a different way, but it is not new. People have felt and thought about these issues, people have done work and you may have not seen it because of obvious reasons including a lack of documentation, which is why I'm saying that platforms like Eyala are very important. Nobody can come 50 years from now and say there was not a single woman documenting work in The Gambia when we can Google it and see that Jama Jack was doing the work. So that's why we're grateful for spaces like this. The external recognition also goes with the peer networks that we have, also acknowledging each other in our spaces.

You mentioned that your experience has been a mix of emotions. Tell me more about that…

We're human. We get tired, but it's part of the human experience, particularly when you interact a lot and you get exposed to the work, because not everybody gets into the work with good intentions. We have to acknowledge that each movement has its own wins and challenges. I think there is a disillusionment that sometimes comes and the question that says, “Is it even worth it? Why can't I just look at these things and ignore them like everybody else?”. Unfortunately, I'm not wired that way. I can't see poverty and ignore it, especially when I know that there's enough resources for all of us. So just that contestation, that disillusionment, that anger sometimes, that losing hope. But the beauty of it is that because of the community that I have built, we share ideas, and we reflect authentically and openly with each other. 

What would you say has been a key takeaway from these reflections at your own individual level, but also as part of the community around you?

One of my really great friends, Iris, helped me so much. She taught me about rest as a deliberate feminist act of resistance. Capitalism demands for you to be exhausted so that you don't have any strength to fight anything anymore. You then tap out and there's nothing you can give anymore and the movement fizzles out. Then patriarchy advances and gains momentum. So, it's important to view rest as a form of resistance. Take some time out to go back to the source, to your why, to how we can collectively organise in different ways, but to also just rest and not think about anything. 

I've realised that I love water bodies. They intimidate me but there's also something that is healing for me. So sometimes, my rest also looks like going to the beach, just going on a vacation to a country that has a beach and just being there. I'm minute, I’m insignificant in the face of all of this. But I'm also significant in that I can make a small difference. 

And then lastly, I think it's just knowing that we would have tried. So, the activism work brings all of that. It's the anger, the disillusionment, the renewed confidence, the learning, the courage, and the loss also. It’s the grief because there are certain things that we lose in the journey, but it's also the collective grief.

What are some of the things you may have lost and are possibly still grieving or have grieved over as part of the journey?

I think it was some parts of myself. If I meet newer parts of myself, it means older parts either go or they’re rebuilt. There were some parts that had to go. I lost some friendships where maybe people would feel comfortable with joking about things like rape. I don't joke about it. So, there was a time that was painful because I felt like I'm constantly having to be a party pooper. It was painful then, but it's not painful now. There was a time I was hiding or diminishing. And I think I grieved for that part, because then I cheated myself. There were opportunities I could have gone after, but I didn't because I was shying away. And I'm sorry to that Lorato. 

But there is also the collective grief in the sense that you see that women are being faced with this similar plight. You read about sexual violations, about rape, about their political ambitions, about this, about that. And you see that it's kind of the same, in the collective grieving. But the collective joy as well. Yeah, the collective joy…

Let’s talk about that! How do you make space for joy for yourself but also within feminist spaces that you find yourself in which can sometimes get really serious, really technical, but also very much rooted in anger?

You know, when we say there's so much power in naming things, I think it frees you. It gives you relief, and there's joy in that, because the tension of you feeling these emotions that you cannot package goes away. When you package them through words, you breathe, and there's joy in that. There's so much joy in being able to articulate yourself. 

It is also the capacity to hold the bad and the good at the same time, and to say, what does justice, freedom, democracy, and joy look like for me? It is being able to dream about feminist futures and knowing that there’s joy in that imagination. It is knowing that I can share that imagination with my friends, and they can share their imaginations with me, and it is filled with joy. So, I think just being able to share that assists so much, but also just being able to read the stories of success. 

I remember, in Botswana, one of the young feminists I look up to, Bogolo Kenewendo. She's a former Minister Of Trade and Investment in Botswana. She has always been doing a lot of social justice work, and she gave so much inspiration to a lot of us. She was bold, she was courageous, she was assertive. So even when she was selected as a minister, it didn't really come as a surprise. She's always done the work. And as a Minister, she was doing the work, articulating social justice issues, and there was so much joy in that; in that there was a young woman, and you were seeing the work that she's doing. So, when we're documenting and collecting voices, I think there's so much joy in finding that there is a thread that binds us. And we have now, and we will have the tools to somewhat challenge patriarchy. 

In Part 4, Lorato shares her observations on the tensions that sometimes hinder progress, as well as possible solutions to bridge the gap. Read it here.

Join the conversation!

We’d love to hear your thoughts on this first part. Let us know in the comments below, or let’s chat on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

“For me, freedom means just being and not having to explain your choices”- Lorato Palesa Modongo (Botswana) 2\5

Our conversation with Lorato Palesa Modongo continues. Lorato is an African feminist from Botswana. She is a Psychologist, with interests, skills, knowledge and over 7 years’ experience on Social Psychology, academia, qualitative research on gendered violence, decolonialism and African feminisms. 

In the first part of this conversation, Lorato shared with our Jama Jack about her feminist journey. In this second part, we further explore her education and experiences as a social psychologist and how this connects to her work and actions as an African feminist. 

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So, we are going to dig into your journey with education. Why psychology?

Four parts! The first part is that I wanted to do law. I grew up resisting, fighting, just saying no to people. And the beautiful part is that I was given that space at home. Even though the whole gender roles thing was happening, there was space for curiosity and for being inquisitive and for saying no. So, I applied for law and unfortunately, I didn't make it to law school. I was really sad because I had centred my being around becoming a lawyer. I was like, “What the hell am I going to do? What is my next choice?” At the time, a lot of people were doing economics because the President of Botswana at the time was an economist. He was doing very well, and he was always on these international platforms talking about development, so everybody also wanted that. So, I was like okay, let me give it a try and I actually enrolled in economics and the calculations there… hmph [Laughs]

You were like “Not for me” huh?

I was like, “I am not going to do that.” So, all economics students had to do ‘Introduction to Psychology’, and there was a young woman who had just come in from the United States. Her name is Dr. Mpho Pheko. She was very brilliant, energetic, confident, knowledgeable, stylish, and well articulated. And she just didn't take any nonsense from the students. Our classes were in big auditoriums where it’s like 200 students and she wasn't intimidated by that huge number. I mention this because she looked very young, and that was really interesting for me. I had a conversation with her, and she told me what psychology was. So that's the second part: representation. Because I saw someone that I identified with, and was inspired by.. 

And the more I got into the field, the more I saw that it affirmed the curiosity that I talked about, the inquisitiveness, the understanding of human behaviour. The giving meaning to things that were happening and the making sense of the world.  It was such a huge moment for me. 

The fourth layer was largely a spiritual thing. I dream a lot when I sleep. So, my grandfather basically came to me in a dream and said: “you have to do psychology” and he gave me the reasons, and they made sense. Considering that my grandfather then didn't know what psychology was, it was interesting that in the dream, he was explaining the reasons why I needed to do it. When I told him years later, he said “You know that my grandfather also appeared in my dream to tell me that I'm going to do what I'm doing now?”

Oh wow! For real?

Yes! So, that is the spiritual side of things. Those are my four reasons. I was rejected by my first love: law; I saw somebody that I admired doing the work, so there was representation; but it also was a space for my curiosity and understanding of human behaviour. And lastly, the spiritual side of it. So, I believe I was called into it. 

That’s incredible. And what has that journey from your education to the work you do now looked like?

Beautiful and rewarding. Every day I do my work, I don't feel like I'm working. I just feel like I'm stumbling into newer parts of myself, newer parts of the work and finding ways to be a better self, but also for the community, the society, at all levels, including the global level. But I think the most beautiful tool it has given me is finding words to articulate internal contestations, because …you know when you can name things and the power in naming things? 

Yeah! I know too well what that power feels like and what it shifts in your mind.

That has been the beauty of it. There are many aspects that I don't agree with - the colonial gaze of the field, or the westernisation if we want to put it that way. For example, the most basic one, the fact that clinical psychology uses diagnostic manuals to diagnose people with mental health issues. Sure, there's that, but it completely ignores the spiritual aspect and indigenous knowledge of Africans. It ignores that Africans are also spiritual beings. So sometimes people are hallucinating not because they have schizophrenia, but because maybe they are called to do ancestral work, or healing work or whatever type of work. And they will hear voices, they will see things. All they need is to do whatever they believe they need to do, and then they are good. But if psychology is going to diagnose them with schizophrenia, it means we're using a colonial gaze and for these people we take into mental institutions, we will try to put them in a box as per colonial rules, and I have problems with that. 

I think the reason we need more African psychologists is to also articulate those contestations and to confront the industry, but to also come up with new ways of thinking and imaginations around societal issues. I think that's the beauty of it; that even though I don't agree with certain elements of the discipline of psychology as a field in Africa, I believe it is an opportunity for us to create knowledge, re-imagine human behaviour, and create new ways of making sense of the world.

“Clinical psychology completely ignores the spiritual aspect and indigenous knowledge of Africans. It ignores that Africans are also spiritual beings.”

What would creating knowledge look like in this sense? Who is creating this knowledge, and for whom?

I should clarify that it’s not just to create knowledge, because knowledge does exist. But to say how do we legitimise various sources of knowledge. Who is referenced and why are they referenced? Why are you referencing some old psychologist from the global north, but disregarding my grandmother's musings, sayings, and knowledge around human behaviour? You find that there's a lot of psychology work, even in our language in something as simple as our proverbs, or our idioms. 

In my language when you are feeling really, really tired, you say, ‘ke a go itheetsa’. In English, it means “I want to rest” but the direct translation is, “I want to listen to myself”. Meditation is basically that; it is you listening to yourself. Going to therapy is somebody assisting you with listening to yourself. But this knowledge has always been there. 

So, for me, creating knowledge means  an opportunity for us to legitimise sources of knowledge of our people, creating new ways of thinking about knowledge, about psychology, about the human condition, about being. We should also understand that we mingle now with different people from different backgrounds, and the world is evolving and expanding with new forms of thinking. How do we borrow from what we have to make sense of where we are now, so that we can envision and imagine better futures, or more healed futures? 

So, your main practice is in social psychology and not clinical. What was the root of this choice? Is it all of these things that you're saying?

Yes, yes. So social psychology is not pathologising and diagnosing. It just wants to ask: what is happening in society? Where does that come from? It doesn't individualise issues. Clinical psychology individualises issues because it says, “Lorato, you have schizophrenia.” Social psychology says, “Okay, why are we seeing a lot of cases of violence in our society? What are the patterns?” 

And what do you see as the connection between your practice in social psychology and your feminism? How do you connect the two, but also how do you bring your African intersectional feminism into your professional work as a social psychologist? 

Oh, they definitely link. And I think when I tell people that I feel happy about my choice of career, it is because it's like a pot where things are all in and they complement each other in that sense. Like I say, it’s because patriarchy is a system that was causing those internal and external frictions. Then social psychology says, “Patriarchy is causing that because…” and then attached meaning and answers to the questioning. And because I have meaning and the words, when I get to the activism space, I am able to articulate better, to teach better, to learn better. But I’m also able to take what I get from the activism space to feed the knowledge production on the other side. So, they kind of assist each other with making sense of the world, and the issues I am interested in.

Earlier, you mentioned the issue of the valuation of African traditional knowledge, legitimising it and using it to build the future that we deserve. What does that future look like for you?

It looks like freedom, to put it very simply. Freedom of being, freedom of expression and freedom in knowing that we don't even need to validate the information and the knowledge that we have. I have problems with the term “indigenous knowledge”. I don't like it because why are we naming it indigenous? The fact that it is called indigenous means that there’s something that is not indigenous, and that knowledge is the knowledge that is thrust into the public discourse. I think our African knowledge is just that: knowledge. 

You think there is first choice knowledge, and then you have a second class and so on…

Exactly! And that’s why you had to name it that. If you saw it as just knowledge, then there's freedom in that because I don't have to legitimise it. So, freedom for me is being. And what does being look like? You don't need to explain your choices. You are just being the fullest, highest expression of yourself, considering that you're not harming anyone and you are living life in this interconnected ecosystem, with other people and with the environment. I think that's what the future looks like for me. The freedom to be.

Lorato shares more on this in the next part of our conversation, where we also get into her experiences organising within feminist movements and spaces. Click here to read this third part. 

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We’d love to hear your thoughts on this first part. Let us know in the comments below, or let’s chat on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

“I really don't like patriarchy as a system” - Lorato Palesa Modongo (Botswana) 1\5

Lorato Palesa Modongo is an African feminist from Botswana.  She is a Psychologist, with interests, skills, knowledge and over 7 years’ experience in Social Psychology, academia, qualitative research on gendered violence, decolonialism and African feminisms. 

In our series of conversations exploring intergenerational African feminist movement building, Jama Jack interviewed Lorato to learn about her feminist journey from an early age of consciousness and resistance to her current involvement and engagement in feminist movements at various levels. We also learn about her educational background and how it connects with her work as a feminist (Part 2); her thoughts and experiences being a part of feminist movements and spaces (Part 3); her observations on the tensions that sometimes hinder intergenerational African feminist movement building, as well as possible solutions to bridge the gap (Part 4); and finally, personal and collective healing to support our movements, Lorato’s current work with the African Union and her journey towards self-reconciliation to unearth her vision of herself (Part 5). 

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Hello Lorato! Thank you so much for joining me today. We are really glad that we can get to speak to you and learn more about you, your journey, your feminist work, and a lot more. How do you like to introduce yourself?

I was having a conversation with a friend, and I was saying that I’ve realised that the way I introduce myself - not evolves - but changes depending on where I am. So back in the day I used to describe myself as a young Motswana girl. Then I moved to South Africa for my post-graduate and because of what I was confronted with at the time, I found that how I introduce myself changed to: “I am a young Black woman”. I knew I was a woman; I knew I was an African and I didn’t find a need to announce that I was Black. But now that I was in South Africa, I found myself needing to highlight the Blackness into my identity. 

With time I found that I needed to then move to not saying I’m just a Black woman, but I’m a Black feminist. In the journey, I found that I also had to state what that feminism looks like which, for me, was an African intersectional feminist. 

So, where I’m at currently, I really like introducing myself as: I’m Lorato. I’m from Botswana, firstly. I’m a young African Black woman, and I believe in the African intersectional feminist ideology; it anchors me, amongst other layered anchors. I’m also a psychologist researcher, and I specialise in Social Psychology. I do development work, community building in the different communities I find myself in at national, continental and international levels.

And when you say you’re rooted in African intersectional feminism, what does that mean? 

It means that I recognise that I am African. I was born here, my roots are in Africa. The intersectional part is understanding how other –isms are linked and multi-layered. When I recognise the oppressions against my being, I also have to recognise the ways in which I am privileged and how I can use that privilege in other spaces. I think that’s important. 

As much as I understand sexism or racism, I also understand classism and the fact that for me, having three university degrees, being able to articulate myself in English, having gotten those qualifications in colonial institutions, has the  power to help me enter certain spaces that others are not privileged to enter. And this is not because I’m necessarily the best person. So, I recognise and acknowledge that. At the same time, I acknowledge that even if I'm in those places I'll always be viewed as Black, as young, as a woman, as being African or from the “global south”. But the feminist part of it is at the core of it. I just really don't like patriarchy as a system.  I don't know if we will ever get to a point where we completely eliminate it.

Have you been able to identify the source of that hate for patriarchy? Is it something in particular that happened at a point in your life?

Definitely. I vividly remember, I was 8 years old back in my village. I grew up in an extended family and I was raised by my grandparents. My uncles - my dad's little brothers - were almost my age, or slightly older than me. There were the two of them and me… so, three kids. My grandmother did pretty much everything in the house. She cooked, she cleaned, and she took care of us. And in my mind, I thought she was doing all those things because she was older. 

One time they left us by ourselves, and they went for the weekend, so we did what kids do. My uncles cooked, we didn't do the dishes, and we messed up the house. When they came back the conversation was, “Why is my kitchen so dirty? Why is the sink full of dishes and there is a girl at home?” And I was eight years old. I paused and said “Ah, but they are older than me. They’re supposed to be cleaning.” In my mind, that's how things went. Adults had to do adult things and I was a child. I didn't see my uncles - I would call them my brothers - as men. I saw them as just people, and older. So, I said no, and I started protesting… [Laughs] 

“My grandmother did everything in the house. I thought she was doing all those things because she was older. ”

That was the beginning. That's when I started observing that my grandmother is not doing these things because she's older, because my grandfather is not doing them, right? I just started always protesting at home to a point where they just started calling me Emang Basadi.  The feminist movement in Botswana was gaining momentum and the civil society organisation that was really driving the wave was called Emang Basadi, which means “Women, stand up”. 

And when they called you that, did you also internalise it and say “yes, this is who I am”? Or did it create a conflict?

I was like “Yes, women must stand up. What is this?” I even started teaching my younger cousins. So, if I saw one of them who’s a girl cooking, I'm like okay, that's good. But if I see her doing the dishes after cooking, and the boy is not, I tell her to stop.

I know for a lot of us, we started feministing even before we had the language of feminism that we now use, with the awareness that we now have. Do you remember when you first started calling yourself a feminist? 

I remember it, yes. It was around 2010/11, but I was tip-toeing around it and walking on eggshells when using the word. And this was in Botswana. I had been recruited into a research project by one of my lecturers in the Department of Sociology. There was a research project by the Africa Gender Institute, which is based in the University of Cape Town and they were doing this multi-institution action-based research on gender, politics, and sexuality in the lives of young women between the ages of 16 and 25 in five SADC Universities. The University of Botswana was selected as one of them, and I was in the team doing the action-based research. I was still a student there. We were just describing our stories, our lives and what we envisioned, until I stumbled upon this word that was describing the work that we were doing, but I had never heard of before. Also, social media wasn't big then. 

Yeah. It was still in the baby stages compared to what we see now, at least in terms of using it as a tool for movement-building.

Right! And the internet itself wasn’t big then. I remember I didn't even have a computer. We used to go to the University library to use the computers there. I tried to search for that word and all the things I saw were bad things. The ownership and the claiming of the word was just... It was a contested space. To put it very bluntly, it was embarrassing to claim that word, because then you were saying that you are this angry person. For context, Botswana is described as one of the most peaceful countries in Africa because of the peace and the democracy. And the activism movement isn't that big. It then becomes as if you go out of your way to look for something to fight about. So, I didn't use the word. I was aware of it, but I deliberately didn't use it. 

Until I went to South Africa… and because I was going to do my post-grad in psychology, and I had an interest in social psychology, I had to engage more with thought around that. And then I saw the word and because a lot of people were using it and there were a lot of people doing the work that I loved, I was like, “oh, it's not really a biggie.” So, I started reading more about it, using it more, feeling more confident, more independent and affirmed, not just by my peers, but also by people like my supervisor, for example. When he would introduce me, he would say, “she's doing amazing feminist work.” And people will be like, “Oh, we want you on this project.” So, I was like, “Oh, there's no shame?” So, I think the South African space affirmed it, but I learned about it in Botswana in 2010. 

You talk about doing the research and everything you saw was bad. What was this bad? What did it look like? 

It was the media representation. It was the way people talked about it, the nuances around how it was positioned in day-to-day conversations. But it was also tapping into the issue of sexuality as well. And at that time, I wasn't ready to have conversations around sexuality. And I think the world I was living in wasn't even having those conversations, because we didn't even have the words to describe sexuality. For example, when people said, “Oh, they are lesbians”, it was an insult at that time. So that was one of the many contestations around it. But also… I think the immediate rejection of the word. There was no space to even say, “no, what we mean is…”. It was immediately rejected. 

Was this because of the culture in Botswana? What really was the source of that rejection where there wasn't even space for that kind of conversation? 

Culture first and foremost. But I also think the packaging of feminism perhaps and the lack of information, like I said. The women's rights movement blew up in terms of visibility in the advent of social media. We have to acknowledge the power of social media. That you get to see in real time, the happening of conversations. And you have better access. But back then you had to wait maybe for a publication either on print media or books. And the energy and appetite that people put in to seek knowledge is not necessarily as immediate as we see it now, on social media. I literally have to swipe my phone, and I'll be confronted with the information. So, I also think the lack of information and knowledge and understanding is what caused the resistance. 

In the second part of our conversation with Lorato, she tells us about the path that led her to social psychology and how she engages at the intersection of this field and her feminist actions. Click here to read Part 2. 

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We’d love to hear your thoughts on this first part. Let us know in the comments below, or let’s chat on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

Afrifem in Action : Bénédicte Bailou Presents Femin-In, a feminist movement promoting the participation of young women in politics (Burkina Faso)

Our Afrifem in Action series highlights the important initiatives, movements, and content that are created by and for African feminists. In this interview, Chanceline Mevowanou speaks with Bénédicte Bailou, a feminist lawyer from Burkina Faso, founder and CEO of Femin-In, a feminist movement working on engaging more young women in politics. 

Hello Bénédicte, thank you for taking the time to speak with us. Could you introduce yourself? 

My name is Bénédicte Bailou. I am a lawyer specialising in women’s rights and gender-based violence (GBV). I am from Burkina Faso, and I live in Ouagadougou.  I’m the CEO of Fémin-In, a feminist and youth organisation in Burkina Faso. I’m also an appointed representative of the Burkinabè transitional legislative assembly [Assemblée Législative de Transition (ALT)] on behalf of women’s civil society organizations at the national level.

Congratulations on this appointment. Could you briefly explain what being a representative of the transitional government entails? 

A representative of the transitional government is like a Member of Parliament. The main difference is that we’re not elected but appointed by our constituents. I am the representative of women's civil society organisations nationwide. So, members of society appoint people to sit in the transitional legislative assembly, uphold the Constitution and its authority, and assist the President and the government in the resolution of the issues we are currently facing in Burkina Faso.

What does being a feminist mean to you, Bénédicte?  

For me being a feminist is to be rebellious. To be outraged by the patriarchy, a system of oppression against women based on a presumed natural supremacy of men over women. So, I am a rebellious person. I am against every social relationship that puts women in a subordinate position. For me, this is what it means to be a feminist.

Earlier when you introduced yourself, you said you were the CEO of Fémin-In, a feminist youth organisation in Burkina Faso. What does the name Fémin-In mean?

The main objective that led to the creation of the movement is the promotion of the participation of young women in politics in general and the promotion of the civic participation of young women. So, Fémin-in is made of “Fémin” for “women” and “In” is for “involvement”. To say “Women involved in… politics.”

What prompted you to create Femin-in?

The concept of Fémin-In came in early 2017 after I completed a female leadership training. The program allowed me to determine what I wanted to do and made me see the vision I had for my life and what I could do for my community. Then, I met our current general secretary at a forum, and we brainstormed together. We’re often told that young women aren’t engaged enough in politics. This is however not true. There is this presumed incompetence automatically attributed to women when they get promoted. To overcome this, and to stop hearing that women are incompetent, we decided to offer them political education. We educate ourselves too, because we are politically ambitious in this country. This is what prompted the creation of Fémin-In. 

This is inspiring. How did Fémin-In begin to act to engage more young women in politics?

Fémin-In was launched in 2019 after the concept phase. We are legally registered since November 6th, 2019. Before that, we worked without a legal status. But our reality forced us to opt for legal registration. We started by implementing an incubation program that provides a one-year training for young girls who aspire to get involved in politics. For the launch, we got in touch with a sister who also works to promote young women’s political engagement. She advised us and showed us how to take action. This is how we launched the program.

How does the program work, concretely? 

We start with a call for applications for young girls and young women aged 18 to 35. When the recruitment is over, we have the first round of interviews and then practical training. Since we do not have funding for this program, we reach out to trainers who believe in empowering young girls and who embrace Fémin-In’s vision. Once we reach out, we ask them to give some of their time for the program and the training sessions. In the program, participants are trained in speech writing, political communication, and analysis of candidates' political agendas. We work on Saturdays and online. because some of our participants aren’t based in Ouagadougou.

At the end of the incubation program, are there any follow-up activities with the participants?

Yes, we follow up on the participants. During the incubation phase, we have a mentorship program. We connect our young participants with men and women involved in politics, to give them an opportunity to see the reality of how things work.. It’s pointless to train people and then leave them on their own. The mentoring program is part of our follow-up process. We also offer fieldwork, like visiting municipalities, or the Parliament to allow the girls to have an insight into how these spaces work. For the first edition of the incubation program, we worked with fifteen young women, because we feel that fifteen is a number that can be followed up after the program. The follow-up can be done over five years. Our goal is to work with a small number of people but to have tangible results.

In 2021, we were supposed to have municipal and legislative elections. We had trainees from our program who wanted to run in these elections. Some of them had joined political parties and wanted to contest in these elections as candidates. Unfortunately, the political situation in our country became problematic and the elections were canceled. They could not contest.

Very interesting to know. How many editions of this program have you completed?

The 2021 edition was our first. We're in the process of restructuring the program. We realized that one year is too much for the girls. We are reviewing the format and will relaunch it this 2023. The year 2022 was for figuring out solutions to the shortcomings of the first edition.

What challenges did you face in implementing this program?

Fémin-In is a feminist organisation. From the get-go, we set that tone. Fémin-In is feminist, Bénédicte is a feminist, and all those involved in Fémin-In are feminists as well. So, our first challenge was how our society understands and accepts the word “Feminist”. We were attacked and bullied online. We still experience that, but we are unfortunately, used to it. It’s not new anymore.

The second challenge was women’s involvement. Why do we want women to get involved? Why do we want them to occupy leadership positions? Why must women be present in decision-making circles? Women in political parties traditionally oversee mobilization, catering, and treasury. This was the second challenge: making society accept that women must participate, have their say, and their part to play in the development of Burkina Faso.

To overcome these challenges and for the implementation of the program in general, did you have support from older women who are already in the political arena in Burkina?

Generally speaking, yes... Some were not available to assist us, because they felt that the idea should have come from them. But in the large amount of support that we've had, these women are drops in the bucket of support that we've received. We've had a lot of women who have supported us, a lot of female predecessors who have carried us along, who have introduced us to great people, and who have been mentors to our participants.

How do you think intergenerational collaboration can help further the work of political and civic participation of young women that Fémin-In does?

Intergenerational collaboration is a beautiful thing. It is important because it allows the young people, the younger ones, to see and know some realities and also to avoid making the mistakes that these predecessors made. But I believe our main issue in getting our predecessors’ support is communication.

They don't necessarily see things as we do. Some of them still see things through the prism of post-colonization. I mean independence, the realities of independence. However, today, the opening to the world that the African States offer us provides us with opportunities that they, unfortunately, did not have. And these opportunities, even if there are hardships in them, place us in a position that makes them say "they did not struggle". But it is important to discuss and work with them.  

In the feminist movement in Burkina Faso, how do you think collaborations with female predecessors are going?

The problem in Burkina Faso is that there are not many women who call themselves feminists. They call themselves defenders of women's rights, but they do not call themselves "feminists". So unfortunately, it’s impossible to interact with someone who refuses to even use feminist terminology... the word “Feminism”. It is difficult. Few of them refer to themselves as feminists. I have one person in mind. Someone I know personally who supports feminist organizations; her name is Monique Ilboudo. She was a Minister of Human Rights here in Burkina Faso and is a Law professor at the university. She is also a writer who has written many books. She is an outspoken feminist. There is also Mariam Lamizana who fights against female genital mutilation. She also calls herself a feminist. They have participated in the shifting of the laws here. It’s easier to start a conversation with them…

What are the other activities that Fémin-In implements, apart from the program for the political involvement of young women?

After the program for the promotion of young women's political engagement, Fémin-In started by organizing campaigns to raise awareness about gender-based violence and sexual and reproductive health. We advocate, train, and document. In West Africa, we lack real and recent data on sexual and reproductive health. We conduct numerous studies, like studies on the availability of sexual and reproductive health resources for youth, adolescents and minority groups. Fémin-In also carries out a rehabilitation program for victims and survivors of violence against women. We have set up a legal and psychological clinic that provides legal and automatic psychological assistance to girls and women victims of violence.

The psychological support is great. We really need it.

Yes, because unfortunately, the state bodies do not automatically take into account the psychological aspect. Even civil society organizations do not prioritise this when a woman or girl is a victim of violence. We also have the social aspect that we put in motion when the survivor does not have the income to take care of herself. For example, we set up an income-generating activity for her. Our support is holistic.

Fémin-In also does feminist education. We are a feminist organization, and we believe that the more feminists there are in Burkina Faso, the more the issues that women and girls experience can be solved. We educate the population in general and more specifically girls and women about feminism, understanding what it is, and becoming feminists. 

Does the work you do with Femin-In for women's political participation have an impact on you?

Yes, absolutely. Because I like to say that I too need to be trained. I used to be a trainee too. Because I needed it, and others also needed it. When we validated our mandate, we had to elect the president of the TLA. I wanted to run in this election as a candidate for president of the TLA for two reasons. 

For the younger women, because we are talking about representation, never in Burkina Faso has a woman been a candidate for the election of the president of the assembly. So, in the collective conscience, society thinks that only a man can be in this position. I ran to show that women could also hold this position. The second reason was also to say that women can do it, are doing it...and will do it in the future. We are capable. Young women are involved, they are committed enough, and competent enough to hold these leadership positions. The incubation program training has helped me a lot in doing that. 

What are your plans for Fémin-In for the coming years and what do you need to achieve these ambitions?

Fémin-In's ambition is to train as many women as possible, as many young women as possible, to be assertive and confident, and to occupy positions of responsibility. I want them to know that today or in five years, they can be candidates or voters, and that if they decide not to run as candidates, they can judge the political programs of those who run. We will no longer vote for someone because they’re from our village. We are not going to vote for someone because they speak well or are eloquent. No. Our vote will be based on their plans for the society. What is the place of women in this program? What place does education have? That's what we want to achieve. That's what we want to have. We want to train women to be politicians and to see politics differently. That is Fémin-in’s primary ambition.

The second ambition is to become and serve as the feminist organization of reference in Burkina Faso and the sub-region because we believe that feminism is political. We know that it is by having a feminist approach to the issues we face that we will get sustainable solutions. 

To do so, Fémin-In needs technical capacity building on many themes and funding to be able to implement our programs. The incubation program does not yet have funding.

Where can we follow Fémin-In now?

Our website is under construction. In the meantime, we can be found on Facebook and Twitter. 

Thank you Bénédicte. We hope the work of Fémin-In reaches more people in the future.

Connect with Femin-In

Wondering how you can learn, support or amplify the work of Femin-In? Connect with them on Twitter et Facebook. You can also follow Bénédicte on Twitter.

Afrifem in Action: Shining A Spotlight on OluTimehin Kukoyi and THS GRLS (Nigeria)

Our Afrifem in Action interviews highlight the important initiatives, movements, and content that are created by and for African feminists. In this conversation, we speak to OluTimehin Kukoyi, a queer feminist writer from Nigeria who has recently launched a newsletter with the THS GRLS collective.

Hello Timehin, thank you for speaking with us. Can you briefly introduce yourself? 

Hello, thanks for having me! I’m a Yoruba-Itsekiri woman born and raised in Lagos, living in the non-traditional, all-female household of my dreams. Currently, I describe myself as a writer in transition. I spent most of the last decade writing extensively about gender, sexuality and class, with a focus on exposing structural injustice around these issues. Now, I’m taking a bit of a break to reorient myself. This is because I’m learning how to move towards what I want to see, rather than my work being primarily about resistance. 

You recently convened a feminist group called THS GRLS. Please tell us more about it. How did this collective come to be? 

THS GRLS is the early form of a need I’ve had for a long time, which is to be part of an explicitly queer feminist group based in Nigeria which focuses on education and community. The central idea is to engage with feminist knowledge in an accessible and actionable way, connect intentionally with older feminists and African feminist institutions, and hopefully broaden what it means to be a (young) African feminist beyond saviourism, reactionary politics, or the idea that what men have is what we want. 

The name THS GRLS (pronounced Those Girls) comes from a 2018 essay I wrote titled “There They Are, Those Girls.” The essay is specifically about coming into my own as a queer person, but what it means to be one of those girls more broadly is to be someone who belongs entirely to oneself. The way I see it, in order to belong to yourself in a patriarchal society, you have to know yourself and be willing to stand apart from the crowd. You have to be secure in who you are and the people you are in community with. Most importantly, you have to be willing to be transformed such that your example transforms others too.

And what would you say is the mission for THS GRLS?

At THS GRLS, our mission is to build collective power and liberation, without discrimination, for African women and LGBTQ+ people through community, advocacy and solidarity. We spent a lot of time thinking about how to word this mission clearly and simply, and now we’re spending more time thinking about the strategies we will use to bring it to life beyond our Founding Membership. As we slowly shape this initiative, we see ourselves as the first beneficiaries of our work. What this means is that we practice everything we believe to the best of our ability amongst ourselves, giving the care, solidarity and support that we plan to offer our future community to one another now. We do everything with the awareness that we cannot serve an imaginary other in the future without serving the very real people who are part of THS GRLS today.

For those who find our mission resonant and seek to join us, to be one of THS GRLS is to own your power and use it in generative, liberatory ways. It is to accept that because progress is created by building safe and well-resourced communities, no one changes anything alone. It is also committing to deep learning that helps us understand the intersecting systems that we are up against, not simply to resist them, but to subvert and delegitimise their hold over us. THS GRLS is about being ready to create a new reality by starting from the margins, and to cultivate the kind of trust that keeps all people safe not because we are perfect, but because we are committed to such safety.

How does the THS GRLS collective want to create more space for women and gender expansive people to be free? What does freedom for women and gender expansive people look like to you? 

Our strategies are still unfolding, even to us. Our first commitment is to be actively and intentionally connected to those who are already succeeding at creating freedom for women and gender-expansive people. We’re in talks with a couple of feminist organisations that we respect, and also identifying queer and other collectives that we can exchange knowledge and resources with. Part of the original dream is also to create guides, toolkits and other tools that people can rely on to create autonomous THS GRLS chapters, as well as to have in-person gatherings that allow people to sharpen their political consciousness and build solidarity through relationships. 

I think freedom is born from pre-existing freedom. When people discover new possibilities through the life or work of others, it absolutely makes a difference. I am freer today because I once sat in a circle of queer Black women who lived into their personal freedom, and their stories gave me the key to discover my own self. I have better language to describe my dreams and realities because I spent years reading people like Trudy of Gradient Lair and Oyeronke Oyewumi of CUNY who wrote into their intellectual freedom. I have more space to be myself thanks to women like Bisi Adeleye-Fayemi of AWDF, Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah of Adventures [from the Bedrooms of African Women] and Charmaine Pereira of Feminist Africa who built communities of power and care. My hope is that THS GRLS will, by its example, create such portals into freedom for other people.

To me, freedom for women and gender-expansive people looks like the presence of love, dignity and the resources to live a fulfilling life. It looks like the absence of violence both grave and gratuitous. Mostly, it looks like abundant space to be who we are, as we are.

Can you tell us more about the THS GRLS newsletter and what it’s going to look like? 

The THS GRLS newsletter is our first offering. It will focus on bringing accessible and actionable queer feminist knowledge to people who are interested in it. We’re using a newsletter model because THS GRLS isn’t a media company and we’re not looking for interest from the general public. What we want is for people to opt in to the experience; we want to know that even if only five people read us, those five people want to read us. 

Our plan for the newsletter is for it to be written by most of our Founding Members and a few guest writers and published on a biweekly basis. We’re taking a low-frequency approach because we want to give our writers time to create good work and our readers time to ruminate on what they receive from us. I’m really excited about the newsletter because I’m both a queer feminist and a nerd, and knowledge always makes me happy.

Let’s talk more about your personal connection with this initiative. How has your work on the newsletter and with THS GRLS impacted you as an African woman and as a feminist?

Well, we’re still very much in our gestation phase, so my answer to this isn’t as robust as it might be in, say, one year. However, I’ve been really affirmed by the fact that people have not only joined, but have stayed part of our Founding Membership simply because they believe in this idea. I sat on it for years because I was thinking of myself as a dreamer rather than a doer, so to find myself slowly becoming a doer is a fantastic experience.

What is one lesson that you have learned during this process that you would like to share with other African feminists? 

Choose community first. Everything else will follow.

How can the Eyala community access the newsletter when it comes out? How can we participate in the work of THS GRLS in general?  

I’d be thrilled to share our announcement with you! We recently put out the subscription link and we plan to publish in a week or so . There will be plenty of time to subscribe and spread the word before we start writing to our community and engaging with the responses, critiques and other feedback they provide. For now, you can find us on Instagram and Twitter.

Let’s finish with our favourite final question: what is your feminist life motto? 

Oh, I don’t actually have one. But if I did, it would be about love, power and the necessity of building freedom by telling the truth to one another.

Find out more, support & connect

For more information on THS GRLS, follow their social media pages on Twitter and Instagram.

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