"We need more feminist convening spaces where we can talk about our realities." - Marie-Bénédicte Kouadio (Côte d'Ivoire) 2/2

Our conversation with Riane-Paule Katoua, Marie-Bénédicte Kouadio, and Mariam Kabore continues.  In the first part, we talked about their feminist awakening, the realities and concerns they face, and how they live out their feminist convictions.

In this second part, they discuss their relationship with reading, feminist education, the importance of documenting African women's stories, and their dreams as feminists.

************

How do you deal with the fact that people are always out there trying to attack feminists, bringing up the tough questions? 

Marie-Bénédicte: It was hard at first. Because I like to respond to everything. When I'm attacked, I immediately respond. So, I tended to be on the defensive all the time. When someone attacks me, I react. The more you engage in the movement, the more you see that there’s more to it than that. We’re indeed all human, and often some words are very strong. Some things are said that truly hurt and you wonder, should I answer, shouldn't I answer?

Now, I think you must learn not to respond to everything. At worst, you simply make fun of it and move on. Whatever you say, they'll keep attacking you, putting you down. So, it’s better to move on and focus on the important battles. The ones that will be useful for our mission and make women's rights move forward. The advice of my predecessors also allows me to take a step back. Sometimes it’s indeed really annoying and I still talk back, but these days I try as much as I can to stay out of debates that don't make the movement move forward in any way. 

It's not always easy, but we'll get there. Getting back to books, are there any feminist books you've read that have had an impact on you?

Marie-Bénédicte: Yes, many, many books have had an impact on me. For example, there's a French book called Féminisme et Pop Culture, by Jennifer Padjemi. It's a book I came across totally by chance, but it truly impacted me because it tackles feminist issues, the main issues. The author, a woman, does it with examples from everyday life. She chose pop culture, cinema, music, and TV series, and uses these examples to show the progress of feminist struggles. For instance, in the book, she talks about the representation of Black women in TV series. So before, you were in a pattern where there were no Black women at all in series, or if they were there, they had the role of the nannies or housewives. They were made invisible.

That’s really interesting. 

Marie-Bénédicte: This is one of the first books I recommend. It's an easy read, even though it's quite bulky. There's another book I read not long ago. It's a kind of autobiography by an Ivorian feminist, Madame Georgette Zamblé. It's a sort of autobiography, and at the same time, it deals with feminist issues, how she discovered herself as a feminist, how she managed, to effectively change things in her community, how she fought certain battles and all. I thought it was a very interesting read because it brings you comfort as a young woman, as a young feminist. It’s a confirmation that you're not actually crazy. If there are ladies in their fifties talking to you about the very things you're going through right now, the battles you're waging, it's clear that you're not crazy. You haven't made anything up as people say. You didn't bring it from the West, as they say on Facebook.

Would you say that the books you read contributed to your feminist education?

Marie-Bénédicte: Absolutely. Books, regardless of the genres we read, inevitably influence our culture and our personality. So, reading books that have to do with feminism, clearly shapes you. It allows you to go deeper into certain notions, to even learn about the history of feminism. In any case, it makes you realize that these are just battles, that they're worth fighting, and that you're doing the right thing by doing your bit. It's always good to have more culture and more arguments. You obviously won’t want to get into every discussion, but it’s good to know how to defend your opinions when necessary. And it's always good to have examples to back up what you're saying.

Mariam, did you have access to books and feminist content to educate yourself?

Mariam: Internet! Thank you, Internet. I’m someone who likes to research a lot and I found some books. I think the first one I read was a book by Simone de Beauvoir. There are books I couldn't get my hands on because even when you go to the library, you can't find them. I’ve also read a Nigerian author, I think. Otherwise, most of what I read to learn more was either articles or academic theses.

How do you think we can popularise more feminist content to enable more girls and young women to educate themselves?

Mariam: For me, the best thing would be to have books about feminism in libraries. Most high schools and universities have libraries. And you’ll never, ever find a feminist book on their bookshelves. If you find a feminist book there, it's because someone snuck it in. You might stumble across it. But if you look for a feminist section, you’ll never find it. So, if this kind of effort were already being made at a library level, we'd make progress. I remember that when I was in high school, I spent a lot of time in the library reading everything and anything. So, I think it would have been very instructive. And that was going to start from a young age. Now we also need more bookstores and specialised libraries, like 1949 Books. We need a lot more feminist bookstores because we need to highlight feminist messages. 

I see that more and more feminist associations have feminist libraries in their headquarters.

Mariam: Yes, we need book clubs, for example. We get together once a month and discuss books. And then there’s something that we can all do: share feminist messages, all the time, like evangelists.

A bit like Jehovah's Witnesses.

Mariam: Frankly, if I had the determination of a Jehovah's Witness, I would achieve anything in life. With that kind of determination, anything is possible. I can imagine what it would be like if feminists did that. We knock on doors, and people open. And then we say: “Do you know what feminism is? No? Let me explain” (bursts out laughing).

That would be amazing.

Mariam: Let me explain. Do you know we live in a patriarchal society?

Hahaha. bell hooks, an African American author, brought up a similar idea. She said, “Imagine a mass feminist movement where people go door to door handing out texts, taking the time (like religious groups do) to explain to people what feminism is...”

Mariam: She's not wrong. Because when you're indoctrinated, it's hard to change if you don't get the information.

Riane, how did you end up working at 1949 Books?  

Riane-Paule: So, I had finished my studies. And I was scrolling on Facebook and following Edwige DRO, the director of 1949 Books. I was doing some research, because I wanted to interview her for a personal project. And so, I followed her Facebook page, and she put out the call for the internship. I thought, “Why not?” I was aware that I didn't know enough African women writers, Black ones too. So, I said to myself, “Okay, why not? It will allow me to understand, learn, and discover. To acquire knowledge.” I was accepted and started working there. 

Since you've been at 1949 Books, what have you liked the most about working there?

Riane-Paule: Many things. The first is to learn, to discover. Because each time, I discover the writings of Black women writers. Women who look like me. Black women writers, writings, stories. Through their stories, through their works, I learn about the other realities for Black women all over the world. Other theories, other women writers, other women writers from past centuries. Then there's also the fact that I’m working with the founder. I don't talk much about her, but she has a huge knowledge of history. So, I'm still learning from her. And finally, I like that I can share what I'm learning, what I'm discovering, with the people who come to read. Young people, children, they're used to coming here to read.

And what books have made the biggest impression on you at 1949 Books?

Riane-Paule: Well, the first one is "Les traditions-prétextes: le statut de la femme à l'épreuve du culturel" by Constance Yaï. I didn't know there were theory books like that. I didn't think some Ivorian women thought like that and could even write about it. There's that and Maryse Condé's book, "Moi, Tituba sorcière…", which I love. As time goes by, I think there will be several other books that will impact me through my reading.

Have books influenced the way you experience feminism?

Riane-Paule: Awareness is also knowledge. I think that as I've read more and more books, I've gained confidence. I've gained confidence now because I know, I'm learning. So, I know how to defend my feminism better. So, I don't know what people could say to try and discourage me, to make me think that what I'm doing is wrong. So that makes me more confident. I've also become aware of everything that women go through too, everywhere. Confidence and self-assurance. That's what it gives me.

That's true, yes. Knowledge is power.

Riane-Paule: That's why we must learn. Because when we learn, we can defend ourselves and we can try to share and attract other people who are in doubt. In other words, even feminists must keep learning. It's good to be an activist, but it's also good to acquire knowledge. We don't write much either. We need to write more. Books, articles. Write our history, write how we think, the life or society we'd like. Read, write, and then share. Always share. Even in the smallest corners. That's how I see it. 

It's a bit like sharing feminism, like Mariam said.

Riane-Paule: Yeah, exactly. I'll give an example of stories. I mean, if every woman wrote her own story, there would be fewer people talking for us. I feel that men talk too much for us. That's how we used to be. You see the guys on Facebook saying: “Ah, our moms. Our moms used to be like that.” The funny thing is, it's not true. If the moms of yesterday could write about what they went through, even if it was only in a home, recounting everything they went through, and their feelings, I don't think we'd be hearing all this nonsense.

You make a good point.

Riane-Paule: My cousin came to the library recently. The first question he asked me was: are there any books explaining feminism in Côte d'Ivoire? He's too much into his privileges, you see. Because he sees it as a Western thing, you know. So, he was looking for a book that tells the story of Ivorian feminism. I told him, “Brother, read. I suggested some books. When the girls, college girls, come to the library, I give them a book by Mariama Bâ first.

You're doing the right thing.

Riane-Paule: That's right. We must read what's going on here. I'm not going to start with feminist theories, by the way. I say read Mâriama Bâ. You'll find out. Then, beyond books, feminist content must be diverse, i.e., books podcasts, or articles.

Marie-Bénédicte: For example, there's ORAF, l’Organisation pour la réflexion et l'action féministe (EN: Organization for feminist thought and action), which has a library and some very good books too. These are places where subscriptions don't have to be expensive. You can spend part of your Saturday there, reading a bit, discovering new things. It's always very interesting to participate, to go to places like that.

That’s very interesting. In your opinion, how can we ensure that today, teenage girls can begin to have access to education about feminism?

Marie-Bénédicte: Teenage girls aren't necessarily on the Internet, many of them don't even have cell phones yet. They're in schools, they're at home, so it's really about creating small spaces, going out and talking to them. Not necessarily even about feminism, but already talking to them about their rights as young girls, talking to them about consent, talking to them about periods, trying to deconstruct the taboos within them. That's the first step.

Then there's reading. We've talked about it. Many of us have been educated on these issues through reading as well. There are more and more books intended for this age group, teenage girls, which give them the first tools to understand what feminism is all about. I'm thinking, for example, of "Nous sommes tous des féministes" (We should all be feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie), which was produced as a comic strip. It is much easier for them to read the comic and understand it. There's also "Dear Ijeawele, the Manifesto for a feminist education". There are little books like that, which aren't difficult to read, which aren't very long, and which will already give them the basics of what feminism is. The older they grow, the more these notions will be a part of them.

That's right. How would you define feminism in your own words?

Marie-Bénédicte: As I see it, feminism is the fight to consolidate women's rights and a fight to welcome new rights, because the acquisition of rights is not yet complete. Many things are still denied to us as women. Being a feminist means ensuring that women's rights today are not violated, that we don't backtrack, and fighting to welcome new rights.

What are your dreams as a feminist?

Marie-Bénédicte: My greatest dream is that feminism in West Africa will reach a point where women are no longer seen solely through the prism of marriage and the household. That they are truly seen as human beings, and that from then on, they are recognised as having all the rights that should be recognised. I want the weight of African tradition on the status of women to be lifted. My other dream is that the bonds of sisterhood that Ivorian and West African feminists have forged should not, for whatever reason, deteriorate, and that we should continue to make these bonds strong because it's together that we'll be able to achieve the ideal we want.

You talk about sisterhood. How do you think we can consolidate this sorority?

Marie-Bénédicte: I think we've already understood a little and we're making progress. For example, we had our small conversation circle here at the 1949 Books. So, you don't need 100 or 1000 people for bonding. Whenever we can get together, we shouldn't hesitate to come, whether it's for a book club, a conversation circle, or an activity organized by another organization. You always must be where your sisters are, to support them, to let them know that you know how hard they're working for the cause. I'm there to support them in case they get tired or need me. So, I think we need to multiply feminist meeting spaces and make more single-sex spaces, where we can talk about our problems and our realities. That can only strengthen our ties.

Being a sister means being connected.

Marie-Bénédicte: Exactly.

Riane, what does sisterhood mean to you?

Riane-Paule: So, sorority is a bit of a complicated term for me, you see. I don't know how to say it, but it means "being together". I think that, first, women don't all have the same experiences. Even in the feminist context, we don't all have the same experiences. So, being aware that we're different and trying to understand others while remaining united on the same objective. You see, the ultimate goal is women's liberation. That's how I see sisterhood.

How would you define feminism?

Riane-Paule: Simple: women's freedom of choice. That's how I've always defined feminism, or at least that's how I define it. Freedom of choice, the freedom to let women choose what they want, and how they want to live their lives. How they want, without forcing them to follow societal rules. Freedom of choice for women.

Do you have a dream that's close to your heart as a feminist?

Riane-Paule: Yes, I have a dream that's very close to my heart. I'm planning to host a podcast on the representation of women. I've always been interested in women's representation. So, my feminist fight is more about representation. I'd like to have more women in different spheres who inspire us as young girls, even those younger than me, in different spheres. Free women. More free women. More women with clear goals. More women who don't follow society's dictates. That's my dream.

That's what you started doing with the Meet Her Podcast.

Riane-Paule: Yes. It's early days, so I'm taking it slow. 

Congratulations! What about you Mariam?  

Mariam: One of the things I love about cinema is that you can express yourself through it. And when you can express yourself, you can say anything. I'm very keen to do that in my future work. Through what I'm going to create, maybe create representation for young girls. Because there's really no representation here. There's very little representation, even in cartoons. I would have liked to see a woman in the cartoons I used to watch, who doesn't want to have children. A representation of a woman who says, "Okay, I don't want to have kids. I'll do what I want." But there's no such thing. Maybe in foreign films, but here, you won't see any film where a woman says she doesn't want to have children.

The film I made this year is a bit about that. The title of the film is "Memoirs of a Mother". I haven't uploaded it online yet. It's about a woman. Because we live in a society where women are pressured to have children. Whether it's outsiders you don't even know or family, this is exhausting. And that’s how nervous breakdowns happen. It forces some women to do things that put their lives at risk.

Definitely! To wrap up, there's a question we often ask in our conversations. What's your feminist motto? Is there a thought, a phrase, or something that particularly animates us or is close to our hearts as feminists?

Mariam: I don't know. But personally, in everyday life in general, I like to go by what I feel. So, when I can fight, I fight. If I can change something, I do my best to do so...

Marie-Bénédicte: Well, I wouldn't say I have a motto per se but I do have a phrase that sums up everything I think as a feminist about what surrounds us. I usually say, for example, that the patriarchy is lying to you. That's my phrase. There are many, many inequalities today in male-female relations because the patriarchy lies to us and doesn’t stop. And until we get out from under its lies, many people still won't be able to understand what feminist struggles are about. It would be more than that, but my phrase as a feminist, which I won't stop saying, is that the patriarchy is lying to us.

Riane-Paule: For me, it's learning, reading and sharing.

Thank you, Mariam, Riane and Marie-Bénédicte. It’s been delightful to talk with you.

"I don't want to convince anyone. I simply want to act in my own feminist way" - Riane-Paule Katoua (Côte d’Ivoire) 1/2

Riane-Paule Katoua, Marie-Bénédicte Kouadio, and Mariam Kabore are young feminists from Côte d’Ivoire who advocate for women's rights. Marie-Bénédicte is a trained lawyer and a feminist activist in the Ligue Ivoirienne des Droits des Femmes (English: The Ivorian League for Women's Rights). Riane-Paule is also a trained lawyer and a librarian at 1949 Books the library of women's writings from Africa and the Black world. She is also a host of the “Meet’Her Podcast” podcast. Mariam is a young filmmaker, and a photography and art enthusiast who loves discovering new things.

We met them in Abidjan, Yopougon, during a gathering organized by Eyala at 1949 Books. Chanceline Mevowanou engages them in conversation about their feminist awakening, their journeys as young feminists, and their experiences of living feminist values and struggles at a personal level.

This conversation is in two parts. In this first part, they speak about their concerns, the realities that prompted them, and how they live with their feminist convictions. In the second part, they discuss their relationship with reading, feminist education, the importance of documenting African women's stories, and their dreams as feminists.

************

Hi Riane, Bénédicte and Mariam. I was delighted to meet you at 1949 Books a few weeks ago. It was a wonderful moment of connection with in-depth exchanges. Thank you for agreeing to share your feminist journeys with Eyala. Could you introduce yourselves?

Marie-Bénédicte: I’m Marie-Bénédicte Kouadio. I’m a trained lawyer and a feminist activist. I work with the Ligue Ivoirienne des Droits des Femmes (English: The Ivorian League for Women's Rights), precisely in their legal department. Apart from that, I love reading. All kinds of genres, feminist literature and literature in general. It truly is my favorite pastime. I have a blog where I share my reading notes with my followers.

Mariam: Mariam Kabore. I’m a young filmmaker still in training. I've just finished my degree. Yay!

Riane-Paule: Hey, I'm Riane-Paule KATOUA. I'm 24 years old. I studied law. I work as a librarian at 1949 Books. I love reading, too. I love discovering content, i.e. films, books, and authors. I love learning about new things.

You're all passionate about works of the mind and books. We met in a library, and that makes perfect sense, haha! Riane, where did you get this passion for reading, books and all?

Riane-Paule: As far back as I can remember, I've always loved reading. Ever since I was a little girl. I remember that in primary school, the pupils were rewarded with books at the end of each year. I always got books, and my mother also bought me books. So, that’s how I discovered the stories. They were more stories about pharaohs, that sort of thing. That's where my love of reading and history started. When I got to secondary school, it began to get on my nerves because the books we were offered were boring. So, I stopped reading in middle school. It was just after graduating high school that my feminist spirit kicked in. I said to myself that I had to read, I had to understand more about what it was all about. That’s how I started reading again.

Indeed, the books on the college syllabus weren't always the most interesting.

Riane-Paule: Not at all. In any case, I couldn't find myself. I spent all that time thinking that I didn't like reading anymore. And it was only after high school that I said to myself, well, I've got to start asking myself some questions. What books would I like to read? What would I like to learn? And that's when I started reading again, and so on. So, I read feminist books, sometimes historical books. There are different types of books, but it's all about my interests and what I'd like to learn and discover.

And you, Bénédicte… how did your passion for books, literature, and writing come about? You read a lot and even share your book reviews online.

Marie-Bénédicte: I'd say since I was very young too. I cannot say exactly when it started, but as far back as I can remember, I've always loved to read. I used to ask for books as Christmas presents, and as soon as I was old enough, I started going to the library. So, I've had this passion for reading ever since I was a little girl. And logically, the more you read, the more you develop your writing skills. So, writing came much later, but that's okay. I quite like it too.

So how did your feminist journeys begin?

Mariam: It all started at home. I'm the youngest child of the family. And when you're the last in the family, you're everyone's “slave” in a way. And at one point, I realised that there were certain tasks that I was being asked to do, that my brothers weren't being asked to do. My brothers, like my cousins, are older than me, but I believe we all have the same body parts. Why do I have to do this for them? At home, I intentionally refused to go near the kitchen. I have no problem with cooking. It's important to cook because you need to be able to feed yourself. But I intentionally decided to stay away from there because I was told “Because you're a woman, you have to know how to cook”.

Also, when I was little, I wanted toys. I always loved video games. People used to buy me dolls. What for? I asked, I cried, and eventually, they stopped buying me dolls. They only bought me mixed toys. I was given Legos, game consoles, and these sorts of things. Well, I can say that my fight started there, unconsciously when I was a child.

And outside of home, was there anything that struck you about how women were treated?

Mariam: Yeah, it happens all the time. For example, the film industry, which is my field, is a very sexist environment. I know a girl in my class who’s a production major. And every time she goes for an interview, she's offered sex. Automatically. There are no half-measures. In other words, each time she goes for a job, she's offered something else and told: “If you don't want it, leave it. And you won't have a job”.

It's infuriating to see how sexism and gender-based violence are everywhere.

Mariam: And that's one case among thousands. I've spoken with many other women in the film industry. And it's very common. There's one thing I've noticed again at work. I was an intern on a series here. I had a position where we were with the photography team. With this team, there's a lot of stuff to lift. There are tripods. There's a lot of stuff, you know. And I felt like my natural abilities were being minimised. I mean, I can carry a tripod. It's not heavy. I don't know about that. They intend to help you… except that you don't need help and you didn't ask for help. And in the business, that happens all the time, all the time. It's like good intentions. But really, you feel like... I don't know if you know what I mean.

Yes, I understand. It's ordinary sexism. When did you start talking about feminism, using specific terms to address these realities?

Mariam: Actually, I started putting words to it very recently. It was during the first year of my cinema degree. I knew about feminism from afar, but I'd never fully gone into it in depth, reading and informing myself. I hadn't done it. I just knew the definitions. And then, for me, it was just common sense. So, really, everyone should be a feminist. When I was a freshman… this must have been in 2020, there was a thing called 16 Days of Activism. And it was right next to my university. I decided to check it out. That's where I first met Riane actually. She was already in an association called Mouvement Femmes et Paroles (English: Women and Words movement). When I went there, I discovered a whole universe. I saw women and people who talked about various themes. They talked about gender-based violence and period poverty… And that's when I realised just how big the issue was, and how much there was to do. After that, I even joined an organization

And Riane, you mentioned talked about your feminist awakening. How did that happen?

Riane: So, feminism was something within me before I even knew it was feminism. I was frustrated by everything I was going through. In our house, there's one really popular dish: foutou. Every lunchtime, we had to mash the plantain. And my grandmother would always get offended: "Why don't you mash it? Why don't you go and sit next to your aunt and mash the foutou?" It annoyed me. So, I had to force myself to go and sit down to watch how to mash the foutou. But as time went by, I couldn't pretend anymore. So, I stopped cooking. It was truly boring to me. I was always told that I had to know how to clean and cook because "your husband...", that I had to know how to do everything assigned to women, that I had to know how to wear dresses... It annoyed me.

Obviously.

Riane: At school, too, the teachers had sexist words at every turn. "Why do girls outperform boys in such and such a subject? Why?" Sexism all the time. Misogyny and harassment bothered me. And the looks on the outside, the inappropriate gestures that were commonplace. It all frustrated me.

I thought I had to find out what it was all about. And strangely enough, I did some research. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I did some research and came across videos, for example, of Christiane Taubira. I think that's how I discovered feminism, through her too. I learned about her struggle, and what type of politician she was. I said to myself, ah yes, that's feminism. I continued my research, read books, and so on. Actually, I read more articles than books at first.

The first feminist content I read was also articles.

Riane: I read a lot of articles to try and understand it step by step. At first, I saw it as a European movement. I didn't know it was a movement here. In other words, I didn't think there was a feminist movement here. The more I read, the more I saw writings and theories coming out. That's where my awakening to feminism began.

What about you, Bénédicte?

Marie-Bénédicte: I'd say it came from certain inequalities I witnessed in my own home, even before I had social media. There were a lot of unfair treatments at home. Men had a lot of privileges that I didn't have, and I always wondered why. For example, in my house, boys didn't wash the bathrooms, simply because women showered there too. My dad used to say that a boy couldn’t clean where menstruating women also showered. So, right from the start within our family, we were already locked into these shackles of gender roles, a woman's place, a man's place. I didn't think it was normal.

These stories of women's place, men's place, hum...!

Marie-Bénédicte: And the more you grow up, the more you have access to social networks, and to the media, you see that there are women who are killed simply for being women. Or that some women are raped, beaten by their partners. We don't have to go through that. Because there are very few men who experience this kind of situation simply because they're men. This kind of inequality and trampling of women's rights that I noticed in our society pushed me to get involved too.

So how did you start to speak out about these realities?

Marie-Bénédicte: At home, long before I defined myself as a feminist, I didn't follow all these rules about what boys and women should or shouldn’t do. I was a bit stubborn. People back home were already used to it. When I started identifying as a feminist, it didn't really surprise the people at home. It's more the people outside, the friends, the people who will tell you that you've joined the feminist group, the girls who hate men club. You've joined their group, you're going to start waging war against men. But actually, that's not it at all.

This is just absurd, eh?

Marie-Bénédicte: People start to see you as a man-hater, someone out to fight against the established rules of society. It was more difficult when it was in the eyes of my friends. Even now, there are some people I can't talk to about this because they're closed off to conversation. They don't even try to understand. They immediately say that when you call yourself a feminist, that means you hate men, and that you want all men to disappear from the face of the earth.

I've noticed that you express yourself a lot online. 

Marie-Bénédicte: Yes. I discovered some Ivorian activists like Carrelle Laetitia, Meganne Boho, and Marie-Paule Okri on social media.  There was a woman who had been a victim of violence. So, they all got together, and as they say, they raised hell. At one point, they were the only ones you could see. Although not everyone liked what they were doing, they were the only ones you could see. I said to myself that I wanted to do what they did because there's a lot of inequality in our society. Women’s rights are disregarded. And that's why I wanted to get involved as a feminist activist. I joined the League. 

Mariam, when you started talking about feminism, how did people react? 

Mariam: At home, it's a bit of a problem. People disagree. But I’m used to it. We don't stop talking just because some people disagree. So, sometimes, I get into endless debates with the people at home. I stand firm in my opinion, on my position. Frankly, it's like every day outside. It's all the same. I cut ties with some friends of mine because I found out I couldn’t stand them. So, for the sake of peace, I left. There are others too… maybe they do it to tease me, but as soon as something comes up, they tell me: “Yeah, the feminist will have something to say now.” They do it all the time. Sometimes there are negative connotations to it. I don't know why. Anyway, you know how people are.

The sloppy jokes, the bizarre allusions... Anyways!

Mariam: But there's nothing negative about being a feminist. 

Would you say that feminism has changed you and how you live or do things?

Mariam: Yes. As I was learning more and more about feminism, I realised that there were a lot of things I was unconsciously doing and thinking, “Wow, this is wrong!” For example, you can say things and unconsciously exacerbate rape culture.

That’s very serious. There are certain things that, now, I wouldn't allow myself to say at all. So, yes, there was a huge reassessment, even professionally. In the films I watch, I've realised that there are more male directors than female directors. And yet, there are as many female directors as male directors. It's just that female directors are made invisible. Now I’m mindful, and I watch movies made by women. It also came with a wave of independence. The independence I had before is stronger now. 

Ah, that's great.

Mariam: Yes. Even in my way of watching films, especially African ones, I'm very judgmental. For example, I remember seeing an Ivorian film. I don't think anyone saw the problem. Maybe it was just me. How do you say again? I am probably paranoid. In the film, there were two children. They were sitting in the back, and the parents were there saying something like, “Ah, he's your husband, you'll be a good wife, you'll cook.” And I thought it wasn’t the kind of message children should hear. I thought it was inappropriate for children.

You're not paranoid. What you say about movies is important. Society shapes us through the mass media, and films often convey messages that need to be questioned. What do you think it means to be a feminist in Côte d'Ivoire?

Mariam: Being a feminist in Côte d'Ivoire? It's a 24/7 battle. First, because it's easy to get into situations where you meet people who make inappropriate comments. We're also in a country where, from my point of view, for example, pedophilia is very trivialised. There was a case of a little girl in primary school who became pregnant by one of her teachers. And in an article, they wrote that they had a relationship. I was outraged. A minor. Anyway, like I said, it's a constant battle. There are misogynists everywhere.

I read some articles about this case, and it was rather unfortunate. Riane, you said that you initially didn't know there was a feminist movement here. How did you later discover this movement?

Riane-Paule: It's also through social networks. I saw that there were associations. And there were quite a number of them. There was the League, Stop au Chat Noir, and Mouvement Femmes & Paroles, the organization I'm currently working with. It's an association that works to combat sexism and gender-based violence through education. So, I found myself more connected with their work. I think education is the best tool to try and change people's mentality. So, I felt more comfortable with the association I'm part of. I joined them in 2021-2022, I think. And that's where I started my activism.

And when you started naming yourself as a feminist, what was the reaction of those around you? 

Riane-Paule: I remember once, someone asked me “Ah yes but are you a feminist?”. I said, “Yeah, I'm a feminist”. They replied, “But why are you a feminist? You can't call yourself a feminist with all the jokes you see on Facebook.” I asked what they knew about feminism. No answer. And that's the funny thing.  You see people misunderstand feminism. And then there's dishonesty. Dishonesty, in the sense that there’s the option to look things up. People could decide to be informed about it, to understand it, but they have no desire to do that. They choose to do nothing and say: “Oh, they're frustrated, that's it”. A parent told me once:  “Oh yeah, those frustrated girls aren't going to get married. So, you want to stay in that group too”.

The reactions are almost similar everywhere!

Riane-Paule: This won’t change anything about how I feel or my activism. I prefer actions anyway. Yes, you must try to convince people. But I don't want to convince anyone. I simply want to act in my own feminist way.

In the second part of our conversation with Riane-Paule Katoua, Marie-Bénédicte Kouadio, and Mariam Kabore, we talk about their relationship with reading, feminist education, the importance of documenting African women's stories, and their dreams as feminists. Click here to read part 2.

Afrifem in Action: Edwige Renée Dro and 1949Books, the feminist library in Yopougon, Côte d’Ivoire

In 1949, more than 2000 women staged a march in Côte d’Ivoire, walking from Abidjan to Grand-Bassam in protest against French colonial rulers, and to demand the freedom of their compatriots. However, when the story of this remarkable movement is told, the role of these women is often reduced to that of wife and mother to male political leaders.

In this edition of our AfriFem in Action series, we chat with Edwige Renée Dro, African feminist writer and founder of 1949 books, the library of women's writings from Africa and the Black world. We learn about the story behind the 1949 March, how it inspired the creation and name of the library, and what it means to run this space in the heart of Yopougon in Abidjan.

**********

Edwige, it’s an honour to feature you for our #AfriFemInAction series, especially as someone who has been a part of our team. How do you introduce yourself?

Thank YOU! This is one of my best interviews. I am Edwige Renée Dro. I’m from Côte d’Ivoire and I now live in Abidjan. It’s one of those things I never thought I would do; I thought I would live maybe in Yamoussoukro – I’m not a great fan of big cities but here we are. I’m a writer and a literary translator. I am also a literary activist.

And that’s exactly what we will be talking about. But first, what does being an African feminist signify for you?

It is evidence that feminism is not some strange thing that fell on “evolved” African women, whatever people mean by “evolved”. It is even laughable when people decide to throw stones at you by saying that if you are a feminist as an African woman, you are westernized. I’m not mincing my words because saying that an African woman who knows she is worth being treated as a human being is westernized makes me weep and makes me angry. How can you completely decide to erase the stories and the contributions of women like Abra Pokou, Akwa Boni, Aline Sitoé Diatta, Tata Adjatché, Marie Angélique Savané, Andrée Blouin, and I could go on. These are women who didn’t see or let anyone see them as inadequate because they are women. And in their freedom, they inspired other women (and men), fought for the dignity of their people, people everywhere.

And as an African feminist, especially with the mentalities we see today, because many people do not educate themselves, it is important for me to use my privileges to say that I’m not doing anything extraordinary. I’m actually chilling. I read about Andrée Blouin, a feminist, and Patrice Lumumba’s Chief of Staff, and I’m blown away. Blown away! But some of our people imagine that these were the meek women that they want us to be today. Oh no! They were the original grandes gueules. We are our ancestresses!

I love the passion, and the very clear resistance against a single narrative of who African women and African feminists are. How would you describe your journey as a writer in relation to your identity as an African feminist?

Listen, your politics transpires in whatever you do. The more I evolve in my journey as a feminist, the more I want to be free in what I write about, in the projects I choose. Also, I started writing professionally in 2012; I identified as a feminist in 2016. But I started questioning things and people around me at the age of 5. That’s my earliest memory of when I questioned something. And that’s how I describe my relation between being a writer and being a feminist. They are both my identities. I can do nothing but write; I cannot be anything but a feminist because I refuse to be limited by the fact that I was born a woman. I mean, being a woman is the most beautiful thing ever.

You are also very passionate about translation, and you have talked about it being political. Can you tell us more about this?

Everything is political in my world. I’m very much a political and politicized woman. And I have chosen to identify as a literary translator – notice that I always precede “translator” with “literary”. I believe in the power of stories, and people have the right to tell their stories in whatever language they choose. As translators, we have the duty to render that and respect everything that went into it: cultural context, register of language, etc.

So, if someone writes “Ivorians do”, I will translate it as “les populations ivoiriennes font”, so that when we come to the pronoun, I will use “elles”. I don’t even want to use the “iels” (a contraction of ils and elles, for they in English) or “ivoirien.ne.s” (to designate Ivorian men and women) or God forfend, “travailleur.euse.s” (for workers, both men and women workers) because if you notice in those examples I have given, the masculine pronoun still leads. So, right now, my work is that the masculine pronoun doesn’t lead too much. Now in the work of fiction, it is a bit difficult, but then again, there lies the challenge: to choose work by writers with a political and feminist consciousness. This doesn’t mean that the writers whose projects I choose to work with are always feminist; sometimes, that is not the case. And that’s very fine. But it’s important that the work has consciousness.

What does that work of political translation mean for African feminist movement-building?

We need more and more translation; translators that are aware that we are not just replacing words with their equivalent meanings. Translators who want to push for translations of lesser-translated texts. Translators who want to bridge the gap. There is such a linguistic imbalance in feminist materials out there, so much imbalance, that we might be tempted to think that African feminism is English-speaking. One thing I loved with Eyala, and still do, is the way translation is done. When you are introducing Lorato Modongo, you don’t try to explain to us in the French-speaking world that Lorato Modongo is a powerhouse in Botswana. Eyala respects our intelligence, and this compassion in activism was very inspiring to me when I was in the reflection stage of 1949. Yes, standards will be high. Yes, it will be an intellectual place, but we will come with a desire to learn from others who have other qualities. We’ll be compassionate. I learn from people who get stuck in, for instance. It is not a very strong trait of mine. I live in my mind. I think a lot, I process things better through writing, etc.

You mentioned 1949, and I want us to get into that. It’s your baby, the African Feminist Library. What does the name signify?

I love that you say THE African Feminist Library. I call it THE library or LA bibliothèque and I like that. It is not an undefined library (laughs). 1949 is the year women politicians of the PDCI (parti démocratique de Côte d’Ivoire) and the wider RDA (Rassemblement démocratique africain) marched against the French colonial administration in Côte d’Ivoire. Now, this march was not an organized march that we might think about when we think “march”. To evade arrest, they went in groups of two or three women at a time, and they pretended that they were going to the farm or to visit a friend or a family member. And it is how some 2,000 women arrived in Grand Bassam.  

What was the inspiration for the creation of the library, beyond the story that lends its name?

The library was set up on 5th March 2020, so we are four years old now, and therefore still at pre-school. The inspiration is the name, and I chose that name because either that story of the women’s march is all but forgotten or when people remember it, they say that more than 2,000 women marched to liberate their husbands (7 men) from prison, thereby negating the stories and the sacrifices of these women.

And going back to that first question about being an African feminist, you see why it is super important to bang on again and again about the contributions of women.

The inspiration for the creation of the library was also about NOT rounding the angles. One of our inspirations at the library is Stephanie St Clair. We don’t hide the fact that she was a gangster in Harlem in the 20s. So, in the same way we mention that she played an active role in the civil rights movement, writing and giving money to the movement, we also mention that she was a gangster. The two are not exclusive. Or we speak about the Nana Benz. I spoke earlier about inspiration. Some may say that their work as Nana Benz benefitted only their children and not the many other women in Togo, Benin, or Ghana. But what’s wrong with inspiring one’s child? And are we sure it is ONLY their children they inspired?

We who look on the actions of women who came before us, women who are more visible today… we must cultivate compassion. I tell you, when you are not in the thick of the action, there is so much you would do better.

And I think there is value in us looking back at what those things are and doing that ‘better’ in our time. What are some of the activities that you engage in at the library? I imagine it’s not just a space for reading, like most other libraries.

We are always doing something or the other at this library. I tell you, it’s the pre-school age!

We host feminist conversations every other month– we call them Le bissap féministe. We drink bissap (hibiscus juice), we choose a theme, and we talk about it. We also invite experts: lawyers, doctors and more. If we are holding a conversation around the mortality rate among women, we will invite a doctor, a gynaecologist so that when a woman leaves that conversation, she knows where to go, and she knows what shouldn’t happen to her. The library is in an area where the socio-economic background is lower, and we take that into account in our programming.

We also have conversations with young girls every fortnight – young men are allowed to join, but if they are not coming, we are not going to drag anybody from the street. We actually don’t do that, dragging either men or women off the street; we just want to be soooooo good that we give people no choice but to come to us. I mean, solely women’s writings, from Africa and the black world, organising things with names like Le bissap féministe! In Yopougon! Hahaha! So yes, we have conversations with young girls, and we read together. We play, by inviting a voice coach. If we want women, young girls to speak up, well, they need to be taught HOW to speak up. And if you speak in your throat and your voice is monotone, nobody is going to listen to you.

We also do storytelling with children aged 5 to 8 years (pushing to 10 years old because no one wants to leave); we only read stories written by African and Black women. It is hard work. We need more stories for children that are not seeking to wrap things up with a nice morale at the end.

I like that you have something for people from different generations. What key plans do you have for this year?

Pre-schoolers never have a program. Hahaha! Their teachers do but they themselves don’t. For World Book Day, we decided to showcase the five Ivorian women to read. We now have a bookstore. We are doing creative writing masterclasses. We must document, and to do that, we must learn to document. We must learn how to tell a story. Sometimes you meet people who want to tell you the story of their suffering, but what makes the story of your suffering interesting? Suffering is suffering, to various degrees, but how do we say it? We’ve hosted two residencies so far, one a writing residency for women writers in Côte d’Ivoire at the beginning of their career, and one a research residency open to Black women from anywhere in the world. We’ve had one play: a group of women griots. We’re used to seeing men griots but here we had women.

In a nutshell, we don’t have programs; we do things as we’re inspired, and thankfully, they are all sticking so far. Some of them, like the podcast, we’ve had to put on hiatus, because funds, because time, because human resources. Research takes a lot of time!

I can’t wait to listen to the podcast when it launches, and we will be happy to share it with the Eyala community. How has the library been received in your community and beyond?

Listen, no one had any idea what we were doing, and I didn’t do anything to help myself by choosing the books I did or holding the kind of conversations I do. I’m a fun person but I tend to say things as I see it. I do it with a lot of compassion and care, but I say what is what.

The library has a restaurant, and one day, we had a man who came to eat, and he was amazed that we had all these books. Then he said: “I hope it is a panafrican library hein! You Africans these days.” I replied that it is panafrican. He looked around, and I suppose because he didn’t see Cheick Anta Diop, asked what makes it panafrican. I answered that a library that has works by Mariama Ba, Marie-Vieux Chauvet, Ken Bugul, Maryse Condé, etc. is as panafrican as panafricanism goes. He conceded grudgingly but said that I knew what he meant. I replied that I didn’t. I knew exactly what he meant, but what’s the fun in life if you’re going to shake the cobwebs in people’s minds?

Another parent decided not to allow his daughter to visit the library when he saw that on the back of our T-shirts, we’d written: the library of women’s writings from Africa and the Black world. I just asked him what was wrong with highlighting the contributions of African and Black women.

It’s interesting how much people can lose out on by holding on to their limited views and perspectives.

At our first bissap féministe, there were five people: me, the two guest speakers and two other people. Haha. At the first storytelling session, there were two kids and one of them was mine. Today, we do bissap féministe where 30 people attend, ages varying between 20 and 65 with most of them living in Yopougon. We have people who are not involved in feminist conversations. We have storytelling activities on Wednesdays and Saturdays with 20 kids attending each time.

During our first year, nobody knew there was even a library in the neighbourhood; today if you are lost, they will show you where it is. Beyond the community, we have had people telling us that the library was too far, and I have always wondered: far from what? Who? Where? Now, people come.

And what would you say is the impact you’re seeing from this space. Does it align with the vision you had when you created the library?

I see that we are focusing on the literary productions that put women at the centre of conversations. That parent who didn’t want his daughter to come to the library has now allowed her and even pays her subscription fee. That’s the vision. And it aligns.

I love that now, teenage girls come in and spend the time reading, whether we have an activity or not. I love that we open the doors 6 days a week from 10am to 9pm, and sometimes, nobody comes in! This, I always tell people. That’s why I love telling the stories of starting events where 2 people come, where nobody wants to come but keeping at it, pursuing the vision and the objectives you set out for yourself. My ambition with the library is not to run around like a headless chicken.

What three tips would you give to someone who is looking to set up a similar library somewhere in Africa?

• Decide why you want to set up a library that focuses on women’s contributions.

• Know that you will not and cannot do everything, and that this is very fine.

• Know that there are some conversations that you will not be able to hold now; write them in your notebook and either find a way to have them in a creative manner or later.

Let’s talk more about your personal connection with this library. How has running the library impacted your work as a writer, an African woman and as a feminist?

Oh, as a feminist African woman, I know the value of sleep. Siestas especially. I love nothing more than stopping everything at either 1pm or 2pm and just going for siestas – and my siestas are long! Basically, I sleep. So, I might wake up at 3:30, light some incense, drink tea, then start work again. I realised, the more I read, that the women who came before me, the women I admire today, they made time for themselves. And everyone has a way of making time. For me, it is siestas, it is choosing to not see people. It is choosing to read. Or going for a swim. It is definitely not a massage, for instance.

You don’t make the kind of music they did/do, wrote/write the things they did, paint(ed) without taking time for yourself. That’s why for the residencies here, we do not insist on creating. It is okay to go away to sleep, to read, to eat, to go for short walks, to drink great wine, to sleep some more, to be with yourself. In fact, one of our mottos at the library is: I have so much to do that I’m going to read.

We have so much to do. Our continent has so much to do. Let’s rest and read instead of running around with an obligation to produce.

As a writer, I want to learn how to write plays and show them. In the case of Côte d’Ivoire, some 51% of people cannot read or write French (and perhaps the 70 other languages of Côte d’Ivoire). But also, we have an oral culture and personally, I’m interested in the orality of literature. But I make time to write. I close my office door every Monday and Tuesday to write. I read every morning.

What is your biggest dream for the library?

The dream is too big that I cannot mention it.

Cheers to big dreams and hoping that we witness it all come to life. What writing can we expect from Edwige the writer soon?

I’m busy editing a novel – mine – and writing a collection of essays.

How can the Eyala community support you and the library?

We always need great books. We need volunteers. And funding! Which means fiscal sponsoring. It’s a long story but I’m prepared to talk about it if anyone is interested.

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

Question always. Be free. Be compassionate.

Thank you so much Edwige. We look forward to joining you for a bissap féministe someday soon.

Discover 1949Books and Support the Library

For more information on 1949Books, explore their website and follow their social media pages on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

Let us know what you think about the library and our conversation with Edwige! Join the conversation on our on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram @EyalaBlog.

Afrifem in Action: Salématou Baldé and Aude N’depo Discuss the Mes Menstrues Libres festival in Côte d'Ivoire

Menstrual Hygiene Day is observed each year on May 28. This awareness day highlights the importance of good menstrual hygiene management, and many activities are usually organized to commemorate the day.

In this conversation, Salématou Baldé and Aude N’depo share their experience as members of the organizing team for Mes Menstrues Libres, the first festival focused on menstrual dignity in French-speaking West Africa. This year’s festival took place from 25th to 26th May 2024 in Abidjan.

We spoke with them ahead of the festival. Explore the interview to learn about how African feminists created this space for conversation, awareness-raising, and advocacy to tackle period poverty and deconstruct the stigma around menstruation.

**********

Hello Salématou and Aude! Let’s start with introductions. Please tell us who you are.

Salématou: My name is Salématou Baldé. I am a feminist activist, president of the NGO Actuelles, and a co-organizer of the first Mes Menstrues Libres festival in West Africa. NGO Actuelles is committed to promoting respect for the sexual and reproductive health and rights of girls and women, including people with disabilities. Our programs focus on fighting against sexual and gender-based violence. We also engage in knowledge acquisition, skills development and training, as well as advocacy, a strategic area for the organization. Particularly advocacy for adopting a law on reproductive health in Ivory Coast.

Aude: I’m Aude N’depo, project coordinator for the organization Gouttes Rouges, a co-organizer of the Mes Menstrues Libres festival. Gouttes Rouges is an organization that works for menstrual dignity. We fight against illiteracy and period poverty.

Tell me about the origins of the Mes Menstrues Libres festival.

Aude: The festival was created by two great African feminists who work against period poverty: Amandine Yao, the president of Gouttes Rouges, and Salématou here.

Salématou: This will make you smile. Amandine and I have been involved in research on period poverty in Côte d’Ivoire. Our work is to make menstrual hygiene products accessible to young girls, restore their dignity, and make them understand that menstruation is normal. One day at the airport, we were traveling to Niamey to attend the first feminist Agora. I said to Amandine: “Wait, we’re going to Niamey and we’re going to meet other feminists and then we’ll fly back to Côte d’Ivoire. Don’t you think that this year we should do something special for Menstrual Hygiene Day?” She replied “Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Then I said, “How about a festival?” And she said “That’s amazing! Let’s talk about it when we get back.” That’s how we got the idea, at the airport while we waited to board our flight.

Haha, that’s amazing!

Salématou: Then the idea started to grow. What kind of activity could we offer? Who would participate? What were we going to talk about? How would we get funding? After we left the Agora, we continued the ideation process, and then it became necessary to find a name.

We had several names in mind and then Amandine asked: “What about Menstrues Libres?” This fit perfectly with the idea we had of the initiative. That’s how this great adventure began. Initially, there were two of us, but we brought in people from outside our organizations to help with the brainstorming. Then we agreed that it was necessary to bring together the organizations working to tackle period poverty, whether in prisons, markets, communities, or schools. So we got everyone together and organized the first edition with limited resources, thanks to the commitment and dynamism of our members. And now, we're hosting the second one on May 25 and 26, 2024 in Abidjan.

Aude: The idea for the festival was great. We’re two organizations that work on the issue. We know the realities that girls and women face. We know how sacred the woman’s body is. That it’s not something people talk about. Creating a festival where we open the discourse around it was necessary.

Absolutely. A festival like this is necessary. The taboos around menstruation are burdensome. There’s a lot of stigma and stereotypes. Do you remember the first time you had your period?

Aude: I remember being in the eighth grade when it happened. I was very embarrassed and I didn’t want to talk about it. And so, I didn’t. I went home. Since I have older sisters, I watched them. I managed alone, I didn’t have any pads so I found a cloth that I folded and wore. At some point, it got so soaked that my sister noticed and told me. She asked me: “Since when have you been on your period?” She taught me what to do, explained how things would go, what I had to do, and so on. I told myself that if I had been educated on the issue, things would have gone differently.

Later I began hanging out with other girls, and they told me that in school they couldn’t talk about menstruation because their male classmates mocked them. That’s when I realized how stigmatized and taboo it was. This is why I advocate for this cause.

 What are the goals of the festival?

Salématou: When we organized the Mes Menstrues Libres festival, we aimed to break the stigma and foster the sharing of experiences. Let’s take the example of girls who think that after their first period, they will get pregnant when a boy touches them. That’s a belief that’s been around for a while. Breaking the silence on this issue is crucial to begin sharing relevant information. It is necessary to offer a place for discussion, awareness-raising, and networking. We cannot neglect intergenerational conversations to let young girls know that they’re not alone. That it’s something natural that our mothers and grandmothers experienced before us. And that some of them still experience. Our next goal is to set up a framework for reflection on how to tackle period poverty in Côte d’Ivoire.

By starting the festival, I imagine that you also had some goals for engagement with the State and other stakeholders.

Yes. We wondered how to make the State consider the issue of period poverty as a major social issue. How can we face all of this? To answer all these questions, we need lots of people and an environment convenient for discussion.

There are some pads and menstrual cups in Côte d’Ivoire. Tampons aren’t fabricated here but they are sold. We therefore needed to find a way to gather these supplies in the same spaces, and bring in healthcare professionals. The composition of sanitary pads is often questioned.  How can we assemble them, initiate conversations, and find solutions? These were our initial goals with the festival.

This will be the second edition of the festival. How did the first one go? How did people react to it?

Salématou: On the first day, as soon as we started talking about it, people would say: “Wait, a festival on menstruation? A festival? These two don’t go together! Festivals are for having fun and dancing. But you’re talking about periods. No, no, no, no you need to tell us more about this.”

That’s true! I had the same reaction as well. But more in the sense of “Oh, this is a space where we can discuss serious matters with joy.” I love that! I am tired of symposiums and heavy spaces.

Salématou: And that was the idea. We knew that we often organized panels, webinars, and talks. However, for young people, it is necessary to bring them together in the places they’re already in. And festivals are great for that; the name only sparks interest. The first edition took place at the Koumassi Agora. This is a place for gatherings and community life. There are many schools nearby, as well as neighbourhoods with young people. They showed up and were very interested in the activities. There were some activities on a rolling schedule, and some that were available throughout the festival period. 

For instance, we had the painting workshop for which we couldn’t welcome a large number of participants. It was limited. Many young people couldn’t join. We vowed to do better for the second edition.

What was the most significant thing for you during the first edition?

Salématou: What struck me the most at that year's event was the attendance of the deputy mayor of Koumassi, to whom we had sent an invitation letter. He arrived and visited the stands. At the end of the festival, we submitted the report and during our discussions, we decided to return to the municipality for the second edition. It's a good start for collaboration and commitment from the authorities.

What about you Aude?

Aude: What struck me was the commitment of the young girls I saw. We had girls aged 9, 10, and 11 who were fully involved, listening to the panels, and asking questions. Above all, we had a special room called “The Experience Room” where everyone could come and tell their story, an anecdote about their menstruation experience. There were so many surprising stories and I thought it was truly a great idea to do this festival. We really helped people to speak out.

What’s the experience room?

Salématou: It's an empty room with a table in the middle, filled with papers and pens. We had some ropes hanging above and also had some pegs. So, when you arrive, you take a piece of paper, in any colour you like. You choose the coloured pen that suits you best, that you’re most comfortable with. You tell us about your menstrual experience anonymously. Anonymously. And when you've finished, you take your clip and put it on one of the strings. The idea is that the girls who come into the room can look around, read about the experiences, and think: “look, I'm not the only one going through this. This other person already did.” That's what the experience room is all about.

That’s wonderful!

Salématou: Yeah! It’s a great idea that we got from Amandine. It’s my favorite thing at the festival. Because each year we get to read wonderful stories.

Aude: The other thing that struck me was the festival’s impact. I am working on another project called Club Rouge. Through these clubs, we organize workshops in schools where I talk to young girls. These girls were invited to the first edition. When I went back to their school, their friends would come to me and say: “We weren’t invited, but here’s what our girlfriends had to say about the festival. We would love to get involved. We also have things to say. We don’t have toilets in our school, so we can’t change during our periods.” That means that there was feedback. The young girls who went to the festival shared their experience with their friends and in turn, motivated them to speak out.

We often talk about menstruation. However, it is not very common to hear about it from a feminist point of view. What does the festival contribute in this regard?

Salématou:  Well, the festival is run by two feminist organizations. The foundation is already clear. We can’t separate menstruation and feminism. We’re tackling an issue that concerns women and girls. We can’t let others speak for us. We can’t let girls grow without the right information. We must explain to girls what it's all about, and boost their confidence, self-esteem, and dignity. We need to deconstruct the myths and preconceived ideas imposed on us by society. We must be part of something and build it. This festival is also about creating and instilling a feminist spirit in girls.

You mentioned dignity. I increasingly see “menstrual dignity” instead of “menstrual hygiene”. Why is that?

Aude: We traditionally talk about “menstrual hygiene”. These words give a hygienist dimension to menstruation. It’s like accepting the notion that menstruation is dirty, something that needs to be washed because it’s not clean. We use the word “dignity” because menstruating is normal and natural. Some communities celebrate it. We don’t want to reinforce the preconceived ideas about menstruation. For us, it’s not dirty, it’s natural, the renewal of a cycle. This is why we talk about “menstrual dignity”.

Indeed, the term “menstrual hygiene” implies that menstruation is inherently dirty or something to be ashamed of. And that fuels the stigma around it. Saying “menstrual dignity” helps tackle these taboos and highlights the fact that this issue is also about ensuring people who menstruate are educated and have access to period supplies and sanitary facilities without being discriminated against. Does the festival also offer a space to talk openly about sexuality?

Salématou: Yes. Do you know about the Minou Libre workshops? We'll be hosting a Minou Libre workshop during the festival. There will also be talking circles and panels on various topics related to sexual and reproductive health.

That’s great. What are the activities planned for this second edition?

Salématou: Well, this year it will take place at the Koumassi youth center. The  mayor’s office offered us this space. For fixed activities, we have the workshops, the experience room, and the exhibition corridor, where partners and organizations working in the field of sexual and reproductive health come to exhibit and discuss with attendees. This year, there will be sewing, painting, and sculpture workshops. We also have a shop with mugs and tote bags for sale. The idea behind the event is to raise funds to renovate toilets in schools, especially in middle schools and high schools. This will enable young girls to have safe spaces with dignity so they don't have to use mixed toilets. Then there's the “Us” room. It's a room for resting and networking. We know that when you come to a festival from morning to night, sometimes you get tired. You can get a bit sluggish. So we've actually set up a room where you can rest, network, and chat, but in a very intimate and safe way. Those are the fixed activities.

As for the rolling activities, there are panels and discussions with experts. There are talking circles with a small, very intimate group. And of course, we have our evening presentation of the production of initiatives and organizations that we've called “Period party”. Because when we say festival, we also mean music and dance. We're going to have fun, we're going to dance.

That’s very interesting.

Aude: Yeah. The Mes Menstrues Libres festival will be awesome. The first day is open to everyone, we’ll have panels like last year. There will be activities to demystify menstruation. Then, there’ll be women-only workshops, to share our experiences, and help open the dialogue. We’ll talk about the initiatives set up to fight period poverty. We’ll share their best practices, learn, and draw inspiration from them.

Salématou: The new interesting addition this year will be our feminist charter. The charter will allow us to handle, or define everything that will be done at the festival, whether it’s words, gestures, or comments. Everything must be done in alignment with a feminist spirit. The charter will be presented to the festival-goers and all of our partners.  We also made some headway in the scientific structure of the festival. What can we do? What can we discuss? We thought about our feminist sisters from other countries; who can enlighten us, co-create? This also shows everything we have in mind to nurture the festival.

What challenges did you face with organizing the festival?

Salématou: I’d say one of our biggest challenges in setting up such a huge festival is first and foremost financial. The partners get involved a bit late. The first edition was difficult because our partners got on board during the week of the festival.  It’s tricky because we have productions and orders to place. The other challenge is time. Time is always against us. Sometimes we are under the impression that we have enough time before realizing that we don’t. We know the festival is happening in a week and we’re super busy.

Do you have further plans for the festival? Like making it happen in other countries?

Salématou: Yes we do. Amandine and I are currently thinking about it. The first and second editions took place in Côte d’Ivoire. If we have the partners to support us, why won’t we have the third edition in another country? I’ll keep the surprise.

What is the festival's demand from decision-makers?

Salématou: We have many priorities regarding sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR). We’re using this festival as a platform to make these demands. We're talking about the importance of having a legal framework in which girls and women can enjoy their freedoms and rights in terms of sexual and reproductive health. This is an obstacle in Côte d’Ivoire. Without a legal framework, everything is skewed. There’s a legal void.

The second priority is information on sexual and reproductive health. Young people very often don't have the right information. They have information, but not the right information about their sexual and reproductive health. So for us, it's also a priority that young people are informed, that they can make informed decisions. The other priority is linked to the first. It is to increase the commitment of the authorities and governments to take sexual and reproductive health into account in their agendas, and to have them acknowledge that it is a priority, and a public health issue.

Aude: We have invited decision-makers to the festival because we want concrete measures in the fight against period poverty. We’ll share a glimpse of what has been done during the festival while demanding more.

At Eyala we often ask this question to our interviewees: what is your feminist life motto? It can be a thought, a phrase, a quote, or anything that inspires you as a feminist.

Salématou: I’d say my motto changes because I have several. First, I believe every girl and every woman must have access to their rights regarding sexual and reproductive health. My other motto would be love because we need love, sisterhood, and intersectionality. We need to address these jointly. We live in a world that’s undoubtedly evolving, but is it moving in line with our beliefs? Is it moving according to what we want? We need to move together. I believe in sisterhood, listening, empathy, respect, kindness, and open-mindedness. And for me, love encompasses all of that. Love makes us strong. Love makes us powerful and makes us thrive.

Exactly. Our movements need so much love and sisterhood, especially now with everything happening in the world. I don’t think we can succeed without love and benevolence.

Salématou: Exactly and we’re the ones who have to build them.

What about you Aude?

Aude: As a feminist, mine is “My body, my choice”. I think that as women, we must be free to make our own decisions about our bodies because they belong to us first and foremost. We aim to dismantle this system that imposes on women what society wants. So my motto as a feminist is “My body, my choice”.

This is my biggest wish for every woman: that we all belong to ourselves fully. Many thanks to you both. This was a great conversation. We wish you the very best with the Mes Menstrues Libres festival.

Stay Updated on the festival!

Follow updates from this year’s festival on Facebook and amplify the awesome work done by the organizers.

You can also connect with Aude et Salématou.