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Lakwena Articles.

“We need more womxn reading, even more writing; and most doing both.”

Womxn by Womxn

Frances Ogamba has made history, appearing on both Writivism shortlists in the same year (No one has ever done this, before now). Frances is on the Writivism Short Story Prize shortlist for her short fiction Ghana Boy, and on the Koffi Addo Creative Nonfiction Prize for The Valley of Memories. Her stories appear in Afridiaspora and Writivism digital mini-anthology, Dwartonline and Ynaija websites, and on Enkare Review. She is a workshop alumnus of Writivism 2016, Ake fiction 2016, and Winter Tangerine 2016. She lives in Port Harcourt, Nigeria.

Lakwena is excited to have this conversation with you! Even before we get to know who goes home with what prize, you’ve already made history as the first author to be on shortlisted for both the Writivism Short Story Prize and the Koffi Addo Prize. How does this feel for you?

I feel really validated! The story I gave more attention was ‘Ghana Boy’ and did not have much enthusiasm for ‘The Valley of memories’ until with the help of my mentor Beatrice Lamwaka, I worked on the nonfiction story some more. Eventually, I released all the things I had held onto and wrote ‘The Valley of Memories’ as the true story it is as it happened to me, and when both stories out of hundreds of other entries actually made it to both lists, it was very emotional for me. Ghana Boy too is crafted from a real life story in a town I grew up in. After trying four times and making long list three times, I finally got to both short lists!

Ghana Boy is a deeply moving story with a host of unforgettable names for characters. I am curious to know how you arrive at those.

When I was choosing names for the characters in Ghana Boy, I tried to imagine which names local street boys and teenage criminals would choose. At first, I thought of ‘Black Glass’ as a suitable name for the character Ghana Boy, but I later thought it to be too sophisticated for a street boy like him because usually, his kind simplify their street names to names of countries or cities they’ve never been to but admire and I thought for a Nigerian character, Ghana Boy would work well. Tear Drop, another character, is named with the dramatic sense fit for a street boy because well, he makes people cry.

It appears that there is quite a lot of work one has to do to bring out a story as well as you do yours. How do you work to flesh out your stories well? Any research in particular for Ghana Boy and The Valley of Memories?

Ghana Boy, for example has been in my head since 2016. There wasn’t much research to do on street violence because the experience is common enough. I however had to do some research on when SAS was in operation in Nigeria and whether mobile phones were in use then. Recently, I wrote about a man whose being wakes up to find his body in the mortuary. I had to then do research on different stages of decomposition of the human body upon death, the science of embalming. The Valley Of Memories had me doing research on coal mining in Nigeria. A lot of the history there was edited out but I can’t stress enough how important it is for even a story of fiction to reflect the reality.

Talking of The Valley of Memories, the book spells a rare form of surrealism that is made better (worse) by the fact that you have lived this story. In it, I read challenging of established norm, but what really inspired you to capture this supernatural part of your life for us to experience?

I think that for a society that is predominantly religious with Christianity and Islam as dominant religions, acknowledging and writing about mysticism as seen in The Valley Of Memories is considered a taboo. I told my mum that our biggest problem today as Africans is that we have left the known and embraced the unknown. The medicinal knowledge we had, the way we valued our environment and worshipped trees, the soil and the sky as our gods. But if it is true as most religions that God (with the capital G) is everywhere, can he not be in our trees too? Today, we ostracize others about Christianity more strongly than the people who brought the Christianity. Those with the gift of vision and traditional medicine are now discouraged by all the ostracisation and they end up dropping this knowledge for the western one. I think we should acknowledge what is ours and not shun it.

Like how Ghana Boy’s family still accommodated him regardless of his trying character?

Exactly! No matter how terrible Ghana Boy was and how tumultuous their relationship was, his father never gave up on him. Whenever he need to eat, he would go back home and nobody stopped him.

The finesse with which you write and shape your stories is to be greatly admired. How have you  practiced to get here? You can trust us with the secret ingredient.

I think that firstly, I want for someone to see my work and think, ‘This is good!’ I have written for years and gotten many rejections. Part of my preparation routine is to read works of similar style to what I wish to write, as many times as possible until it is internalized for me to sound similar when I start to write that specific piece.  I reread and rewrote the two stories over and over because I was determined to get onto that short list, and I did. I have been writing consistently since September 2018, with about four short stories every month. In June, I had over 5 short stories written and ended up feeling exhausted and out of ideas and had to pause and refresh. I think the consistency of reading and writing is key. I make a list of literary competitions that I keep submitting to, and this time, I was validated!

Speaking of validation, I feel like you work brilliantly with hope as a theme from the salvation you lend Ghana Boy through a humane face, and how you keep writing on continuity of life after death. Tell us more about this.

I think we all would like to feel like life is endless. The reincarnation in The Valley Of Memories has a character that lives a second life through the body of his 23 year old niece; and although Ghana Boy in the concluding part dies, I lend hope to Oslo, his beloved little brother with a final meeting with Ghana Boy. I thought that this was an opportunity for Oslo to say a proper goodbye, but also for him to part with encouraging words of hope for Oslo. This ending was also meant to show Oslo, a bad boy from the street cry, as opposed to how society keeps reinforcing the belief that men do not cry or break down.

I was telling a friend, What if we are all dead and we are just spirits roaming here? In many ways, I prefer to look at the deep side of life and death to bring out the aspect of survival that we all seek above all else. I have no idea what exists beyond here, but I imagine that there is more than we know. But yes, we prefer the idea of us living on through our children, through our works, and that there is hope.

You leave us with so much to think about! Any special message to womxn reading this?

I would want womxn in societies out there to read more. We need more womxn reading, more womxn who are consuming literature from womxn like us. Even better, we need more women writing and most of them doing both. 

As for aspiring writers, reading is mandatory- but always write more than you read. Remember, you first are a writer and you need to constantly prove that.

 

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People don’t think of it anymore as just a hobby for me – 2019 Writivism Short Story Prize Winner

Womxn by Womxn

South African writer and Chemical Engineering PhD student, Resoketswe Manenzhe was in Kampala for the Writivism Literary Festival this month. Her story, Maserumo, which would later be announced winner of the Writivism Short Story Prize had made the shortlist. She sat down with our contributor, Kakinda Maria Birungi, to talk about her art and the journey that led her to being on one of the most coveted lists for a writer.

How did you hear about Writivism?

Resoketswe Manenzhe (RM): I heard about Writivism mostly through Twitter, to be honest. And then I followed the account on twitter and also made friends with Keletso Mopai who was longlisted in the one of the previous years. So my initial contact with it was through friends I made on Twitter who were interested in writing, too. 

Has writing always been an interest of yours?

RM: Yes. I started writing when I was 12 or 13 years. But the thing is, since I come from a typical African background and I might be stereotyping this, writing wasn’t seen as a viable option. So I was writing mostly for myself. My writing was never from a place of, ‘I’ll one day get published’ or anything like that, so I’ve always thought of writing as a thing for myself.

So when did you start to view writing as less of a personal thing?

RM: It was around 2014 and I was actually working as a full time junior engineer on a plant, which I really hated. And so because I was doing something that I really hated, I then tried to escape to something that I genuinely did love doing and that was the first time that I really took myself seriously as a writer. I started sending things out to online literary magazines.

What form of literature are you currently inclined to write?

RM: I used to write mostly poetry when I was in my teens and then I shifted to short stories. And now I have been trying to get a lot more into my novel. So my transition was from the shortest form and since then I’ve been pushing myself to do longer forms.

Why would you say you write; and have the reasons changed with the transition of the different forms of writing? 

RM: When I was a teen, I wrote mostly because it helped me deal with how I experienced the world since I was in boarding school and I was having a hard time there: I missed home and I dealt with that through writing. In my early 20’s, I loved the world of academics when I was doing my first degree but I didn’t want to leave University with just the skill that was expected of me. So I wrote as mostly an escape from that world of academia. Now I write just because I want to, especially if I read something that inspires me with my own work. 

You’ve mentioned before that Maserumo took you seven years to write. How was that process for you?

RM: Well, I usually write short stories and submit them; sometimes they get accepted and other times they don’t. Submitting is a lot of work and if you are a student, you are most likely taking away time from the academics to go through that particular process. When my stories get rejected, I file them away and so when ‘Maserumo’ got rejected, I just filed it away too.. I wasn’t necessarily thinking about it. It was much later when I revisited. I don’t think it would be accurate to say there was a process to working on it though.  I did a thing, kept it and 7 years later, I went back to it. Although I must say, when I wrote it the first time, I was a much different writer, more so a much different person. The first time I wrote it, it was a very serious depressing story and then the second time, I wanted it to be sort of funny. 

Within the seven years, you’ve gotten your degree and now you’re pursuing a PhD in Chemical Engineering. Would you say these degrees have transformed you as writer in any way?

RM: They definitely have. When I was getting my undergraduate degree, we had a professional communications course in third year where we were taught how to communicate as engineers. And the thing with being an engineer is that you have to communicate often complicated ideas in as few words as possible because if you are verbose, the examiner is most likely to lose interest. So if you notice, in ‘Maserumo’, I didn’t do long paragraphs and that’s something I’ve done a lot in my work. I know nuance is a thing and it’s  amazing but I believe that if people can’t understand what you’re communicating, then there’s no point in communicating. That’s the major lesson I took from my engineering classes: you can use ordinary words which are meaningful all the same. 

With a background in engineering, how have you intentionally bettered your craft? 

RM: I’m on a forum where people discuss form a lot, not as writers necessarily, but as readers. We ask questions like ‘Which book are you reading? What did you like about it and what didn’t you like about it?’ and so from that, I’m able to gauge things that readers don’t like and also that’s where I’ve learnt most of my writing terminology from. I take the precision taught and required in engineering and apply it in my writing. For academic journals and proposals, every single word has to have a purpose because the guidelines and requirements are very strict – going over the word or page limit is seriously frowned upon. I use this a lot in my writing -if a word doesn’t add anything to the story, then it doesn’t need to be there in the first place. And if something is ambiguous, then an extra word, maybe even something as simple as an adjective, definitely needs to be added (in science and engineering, clarity is very important).

Which writers do you relate to the most, in terms of their work?

RM: In my teens and early twenties, I don’t think I appreciated African literature as much as I do now. I currently have a profound appreciation for Tsitsi Dangarembga and Jennifer Makumbi. I gave an interview the other day and I talked about how there are some sentences you read in African writing which you wouldn’t find anywhere else.  It’s the case with Tsitsi and Jennifer. I feel that their work has a lot of sentences where you can relate and they feel like you’re holding a conversation with them. 

What’s your writing process like? 

RM: When I have an idea for a story, I usually wait until I have a lot of other things to do (laughs), so that writing is mostly an escape from these other things. But I’m also one of those people who can sit and look like I’m supposedly do nothing, when I’m actually thinking; imagining a whole paragraph or a scene. 

If you win the Writivism Short Story Prize, what do you think that would do for you? 

RM: Well, even just being shortlisted has done so much for me as writer. The honest truth is that even though I had started taking myself seriously as a writer, I felt that people were not taking me seriously as one. Now I think the people in my life don’t think of it anymore as ‘this is just a hobby for her.’ I also feel like it has opened up my work to more readers because before, I felt like it was only my family reading my stories. Now I’m getting a lot more feedback on not just ‘Maserumo’, but my earlier works. Even in my department, my supervisor posted ‘Maserumo’ on the department online newsletter and people asked me about it. See, I’m usually the joker in my department (laughs) so people were like ‘Oh, you do actually have thoughts in your brain?’ (laughs) 

Do you have any long term writing plans that we should look forward to? 

RM: I’ve been trying for a while now to get my novel published. I also want to edit my short stories that have already been published and so my goal is also for a short story collection to be published.

Revenge Porn Must Be Classified as A Sexual Offence

Opinion, Social Justice

Revenge porn – the release of one’s intimate images or videos online without consent – is a kind of cyber harassment that has become prevalent in the internet age. Mobile phones are becoming more and more powerful and most models include cameras as a standard feature. Sharing images and videos is quicker and easier than ever, even from the comfort of home. This has facilitated the exchange of intimate images between partners via social media and instant messaging services like WhatsApp.


Unfortunately, this advancement of technology also bears dire consequences. In addition to rape, sexual harassment and other forms of abuse, revenge porn is now another weapon that men employ to deliberately shame women and destroy their reputations. These attacks are an effort to limit  what victims can dream and hope to achieve. 

The perpetrators seek to wield power over women, extort sex and/or money from women, coerce them into  staying in abusive relationships, and cause them to cower into submission. Because the consequences are so grave, exposing  private content is a powerful weapon. We have seen it work effectively against successful Ugandan women like music artiste Desire Luzinda, model Judith Heard, media personalities Anita Fabiola and Kleith Kyatuhaire (the latter were both consequently fired from their jobs after their nude pictures were leaked). The recent victims to this dehumanization are: photographer, rising star Martha Kagimba and Ebonies Group actress, Princess Becky Jjuuko.

All women are vulnerable to this threat because we are all potential targets. The possibility of it, like rape, informs the decisions we make about where we go, how we behave, who we trust, and the manner in which we lead our lives. It actively constrains us and forces us to shrink ourselves, while placing an enormous amount of power in the hands of the men with whom these images, much like sex, are shared in confidence. Unfortunately, Ugandan systems continue  to enable this behaviour.

In 2017, a nine-member Pornography Control Committee was constituted by the government of Uganda under the Anti-Pornography Act 2014, to detect and prohibit the distribution and consumption of pornography. In addition they received 2 Billion Uganda shillings to operationalize this work. The Pornography Control Committee’s chairperson, Annette Kezaabu Kasimbazi, has said in media interviews that they have a responsibility to “safeguard the survival and success of our children and the future of Uganda.” But how can we safeguard the future of Uganda without attending to the women whose livelihood and autonomy are threatened by revenge porn?

Instead of addressing this threat, the committee has hounded the victims of revenge porn, accusing them of distributing their own images. By never investigating or prosecuting the actual perpetrators or media channels that distribute these images, the committee gives abusers the power not only to destroy everything a woman has built, but to do so with legal impunity. The committee is thus endorsing the fallacy that an adult woman who engages in consensual sex or intimacy is engaging in behaviour that is shameful and degraded.

The government should re-define the role of the Pornography Control Committee to protect members of the society who are most vulnerable to the threat of revenge porn including women, children and sexual minorities. The role of the committee should also include sensitization of the public about the harmful ways in which revenge porn hurts all of us, treatment strategies for all survivors of sexual violence like rape and revenge porn, and ensure prosecution of perpetrators that forsake women’s right to physical and emotional autonomy and integrity by publishing these images publicly without their consent. 

Most importantly, the government must consider classifying revenge porn as a sexual offence. Members of the committee and legislators should invest time and resources to study how revenge porn, much like rape, is a horrendous invasion of sexual privacy and personal space and the negative consequences like anxiety, depression and even suicide are very much similar to those experienced by survivors of rape.

The 2016 Sexual Offences Bill which was tabled in Parliament will be re-tabled to consolidate all laws relating to sexual offences, combat sexual violence, provide for the punishment of perpetrators of sexual offences, provide for procedural and evidential requirements during trial of sexual offences and other related matters. While the bill is a step in the right direction to fill the gaps in the existing legal framework, it is vital that legislators move to  include revenge porn as a form of sexual violence in law and policy – so as to not only protect victims, but also encourage them to come forward and report these crimes. 

Attorney, Mercy Munduru shares some ways in which victims can find redress within the existing legal framework, in this Black, No Sugar episode on Revenge Porn: https://youtu.be/POHsVul96RE

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Give Stella Nyanzi Flowers While She Still Lives

News, Opinion, Stories

“We are at the national theater, a perfect place for a demonstration. With my elongated labia, I will show you how to masturbate and cum more than 20 times,” said Stella Nyanzi. 

Rising from her seat, Stella picked up the microphone and began her lecture. Her purpose was to educate me, and indeed taught, I was. She spoke with the authority of an academic who has spent their life studying a subject only to be asked ignorant questions, moreover with audacity.  

She told me and the room, that labia elongation as a sexual practice, was solely for the womyn’s pleasure before the colonial patriarchy came and taught us otherwise. She said that my questioning her support of womyn elongating their labia was rooted in my shortcomings as a feminist, and that “pulling” (as it is locally referred to), as intercourse pleasure practice, was indeed a feminist practice. She explained that when the labia is “pulled,” it eases accessibility to the clitoris, which can be stroked for maximum pleasure. Seeing the slight confusion on my face, she offered to show me how it is done. 

Sensing uneasiness from the audience, the session chair then, Ghanian feminist writer, Nana Darkoa pleaded with Stella to reserve the lesson for another day. This occurred during the ‘sex and literature’ panel at the 2016 Writivism festival. It was also my first introduction to Doctor Nyanzi. 

Back then, I had been aware of her Facebook page, but nothing prepared me for her sheer energy that filled the room. Small uncomfortable giggles erupted here and there, with some writers, slowly leaving the room due to their discomfort. I marveled at how bold one has to be to shock writers into leaving a room in distress. 

In this discomfort, I started to appreciate Stella’s ease with throwing “reasonable” caution to the wind. With the same “rudeness” she would later take on the Minister for Education, Janet Museveni’s failure to fulfill her husband, President Yoweri Museveni’s promise to provide free sanitary towels to school-going girls.   

Using her Facebook as the primary tool for communicating, Dr. Nyanzi started campaigns such as #Pads4girls, which many young feminists joined. After that campaign, her anger again led her to put together the womyn’s protest working group which became solely responsible for organizing the first womyn’s march in Kampala in the same wave as the millions of womyn marching across the world to protest gender-based violence. 

In Stella, I am reminded of Toni Morrison’s approach to anger in her book ‘The Bluest Eye,’ where she writes, “Anger is better. There is a sense of being in anger. A reality and presence. An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging.”

Nyanzi’s decision to insult the Ugandan government into action is a radical act, especially as we live in a country where obscene literature causes a more significant public outrage than the fact that dozens of murdered womyn  are yet to find justice. 

Watching the news of her sentencing on 2nd August in court, she embodied anger and this time her form of protest was her bare breasts as she slapped them against each other in objection to being forced to listen to a judgment everyone knows was not only unfair, but a State-led attack on press freedom and the freedom of expression. 

Nude protests are nothing new in Uganda. We have previously seen the Amuru womyn strip before the deceased Minister Aronda Nyakairima, protesting the selling of their land. Her decision to utter a couple of “fuck yous” along with the fuck you signs is what Stella defines as radical rudeness, which is also not new to Ugandans and was used in the 1940s by Ugandan activists protesting the British colonizers.

In Stella’s actions, I learn the uses of anger as an expression of my unhappiness with the State. I am forced to unlearn the sexualizing of the naked body. I have to regard nudity as part of everyday life and as another form of protest; because we live in a capitalist patriarchal society in which the female form is treated as a commodity for men’s voyeuristic pleasure. 

To not only take ownership of one’s own nudity as a womyn, but to go even further and utilize it as a  protest form against the very structure of power that dares to dictate what you can or cannot do with your body, is in itself a radical act.

Many critics of Stella argue that her naked protest is merely vulgar and that there is no room for it in this society. This critique is not only wrong but also ingrained in the discomfort of dealing with a womyn incapable of feeling shame, which is a tool commonly used to keep womyn in check. The question many critics don’t want to answer is, what to do with a womyn who refuses to be shamed?

The other critique is based on the morality that came with the Christian colonizer, suggesting that ‘it is not our culture.” This is also obviously rooted in fallacy as nudity has always been part of African traditional culture with womyn carrying on their everyday lives bare-breasted with just a little cowhide over their vulvae. If anything, many ethnic groups in Uganda believe that if an elderly womyn strips in protest, then whosoever is on the receiving end is bound to be cursed. 

The third critique is an elitist one which involves associating one’s level of education with this fictional idea of morality. This one, I find particularly infuriating! It assumes that ‘class’ equals sitting down, holding hands with the oppressor and explaining to them how they oppress you. It is usually veiled in phrases such as, “I don’t agree with Stella’s nude protest because I think there are other ways to put your point across.”   

When all these fail, Stella is labeled mentally ill. However, the reason this narrative has been unable to stick is that many Ugandans do identify with Stella’s struggle. Therefore to mark her insane means labeling a whole chunk of Ugandans clinically mad. (I will not go into how this narrative is harmful to the actual mental health patients).  

Some people such as myself, have carved out different ways of supporting the same battle; like imploring that Stella be given all the appreciation she deserves while still alive; be it money, flowers, good vibes or whatever other support you may want to send her way, for her constant strength, courage, and never-failing energy to say Fuck the Patriarchy. 

With all the social media support pouring in from across Africa for Stella under the hashtag #FreeStellaNyanzi, someone tweeted, “give Stella her flowers while she still lives.” This is my attempt at giving those flowers. 

More Thorns, Less Roses

Stories

I struggled to write this story.

I thought that maybe if I used all the descriptive language I know, to paint a picture of how ugly the situation is, it might make flowers seem ugly. 

What a lie that would be! Because after we spent half the day talking to the women whose job is to tend to these brightly colored plants for export and realizing that theirs is not a rosy job at all, I was still genuinely happy to receive a bouquet while we left.

 I however wondered if working on the farm, changes their perception of flowers, or if they are or would still be happy to receive flowers on special occasions. Are flowers still exciting-colorful things to them or just stock? After all, a friend who works at the Central Bank once told me the bank notes we wake up every day to chase are just a bulk of items of which they even take stock. Then I thought that maybe I should make this a petition and ask that buyers of flowers to boycott the industry until some changes are made, but I realized that call to action might need a more powerful person than I am to yield results.

The plight of women working on flower farms in Uganda has been highlighted by media and women rights’ organizations in the recent past so it is understandable that owners of flower farms are suspicious when anyone asks to speak to their employees.

 The result, we ended up with scripted answers to our questions on their working conditions. Although we declared that our intentions weren’t to put them in any trouble, we were only allowed to talk / interview a handful of carefully selected candidates who either have slightly more benefits than their peers or were asked to say so. By the end of the day, we had enough data to launch a full scale PR campaign for the flower industry.The interviews were highly supervised by hovering management staff.

We didn’t get to talk to the young girl who is evidently of school going age, but instead spends her days, standing under the heat of the glaring white light of the florescent tube, sorting every rose meticulously and looking up only to pick up her next bucket of work.

There were also no words exchanged between us and the frail looking old woman whose wrinkled bare hands picked away at a pile of pink roses. She could only manage a nod. Management insists that some of the workers are adamant about working without the gloves which begs the questions, when did they learn to work with thorns without protective gear? How much pain did they take before they became numb to it?

Most people wince at the slightest prick by any remotely sharp object, so it must take a certain level of resilience to become numb to thorns. The only plausible explanation is, provision of these gloves is a recent development following the scrutiny flower farms have had from rights organizations, which many women aren’t accustomed to, consider to be only a luxury.

But beyond gloves, boots and masks, the work on these farms is gruesome. Most of it especially in the grading room where we spent the chunk of our time requires standing for long hours. The scripted interviewees all stated that work starts at around 7am and ends at 5pm; yet most of them were still at it well past 5 pm when we left. There were no breaks except for the bathroom, no clear system of shifts.

The same women told us that they have children at home and little or no help in taking care of them. Their work therefore doesn’t end with them taking off their work uniform, washing off the chemicals in the bathroom in the corner of the room, whose door doesn’t lock, and heading home. There are meals to cook, uniforms to iron, home work to do and may be sex to offer before it is 5am to do it all over again.

The irony is that for each of them that we asked if they had a message for other women in the spirit of women’s day they encouraged fellow women to “work hard”. Tell me again, why when women die, “capitalism and sexism” aren’t listed as official causes of death in their post mortem reports? Maybe, this is a petition I might pull off.

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Unique Liz: The Personal Shopper Who Doubles As Your Stylist

Lifestyle

“The drip is forever,” is for anyone with even the slightest interest in fashion and style, perhaps the most accurate justification for – forgive another internet phrase, “showing up and showing out.” A few years ago it was laughable that people planned their outfits a month prior to social events. Today it is in fact a norm. Designers and clothes vendors make a killing for award events. Because with the rise of the very visual social media platform that is Instagram, coupled with the virality of event hashtags, to not slay or drip at ‘Blankets and Wine’ or the ‘Abryanz Fashion Awards’ is tantamount to social cremation. Thankfully, there are fairly great clothes on the Ugandan market for everybody, regardless of their budget. Unfortunately, not everyone has the ability to select which clothes for what event, let alone the time to go looking. 

This gap is what one young womxn sets out to fill. Elizabeth Atai of the Unique Liz lifestyle creative solutions has, through the oldest service marketing trick in the book, created a network of clients in the young working womxn in Kampala. She shops for and styles one person, they love how they look, then refer her to the next friend. 

Some of Atai’s clients at the sale

Elizabeth does her homework too. My first interaction with her as a client was through a phone call suggesting that she had found some clothes I might like and wanted me to take a look.I, of course, pride myself in my ability to be able to choose my clothes. I have a heightened sense of self style too, so naturally I was skeptical. But Elizabeth who follows me on Instagram had familiarized herself with my sense of style, knowing exactly what I would pay for. And pay, I did – for clothes of my liking that were delivered to me at my house. This is probably how she got the client in me and others. Convenience, satisfaction; and what is keeping many of us from living our best lives – the cost. By shopping in wholesale and allowing her clients to make deposit payments, she is able to allay the pressure on the client that comes with lump sum expenses; while also keeping her business afloat.

The average womxn working in Kampala probably pays rent, utilities and spends on transport to and from work. They also like to dress well and be stylish. Except, with not enough zeros on their monthly cheque to shop in high end specialized retail stores, the fair price shops downtown, access of which requires canvassing through the more crowded and noisy part of the city, is/becomes the most viable option. Atai takes on the task of time and attention, to get you that which you need. This, for not just one or two, but many people, sounds like quite the daunting task. I asked her how she handles it.

The tailor with whom Atai works


Atai thinks that any personal shopper must first and foremost have the gift of an eye for detail – which she does. She admits though, that experience has boosted her ability to identify and ultimately fulfill her clients’ needs. “Part of that process involves having a prior physical meeting to assess their frame, listening to their preferences…” she says. But Instagram is how she got me. So when I ask if she does a little bit of client “stalking” on the social media site, I get a quick “Yes!” For Unique Liz, it is a source of market research where she gets to profile a client and get their style right. 

Fittings with a client

Elizabeth held her first ever clothes sale back in March and many turned up and went by all the tables, paying for their discounted best picks. Why she held a clothes sale? “I set out to do 2 things with the Unique Liz brand this year: appreciate my clients and also give back to the community.” Half of the proceeds from this sale went to the 40 days over 40 smiles charity’s children’s literacy program.

Unique Liz can be contacted here: 0781893310 on mobile, 0793892777 for WhatsApp, and @UniqueLiz5 on Twitter.

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The Mental Health conversation is going to have to take all of our collective effort, or nothing

Health

We are living in dangerous times physically – famine, poverty, climate change, shootings and permissive sexual violence in the catholic church. And many of us, in small and big ways, have decided to do our part in averting these external dangers. But there’s just one more thing that we must pay attention to and do it well – mental disorders. The conversation on mental health is one which, despite our generation’s efforts to mainstream, we haven’t quite understood the magnitude of.

2 years ago, a young lesbian womxn took to her twitter account to express her distress from being outed to her not-so-conscious parents. As is the toxic culture of the equally beneficial social media platform where savagery is exalted and basic humanity lambasted, the respondents further tore her  apart. But there was one dismissive comment that particularly threw me off. Not because it was the most savage, but because of who it was coming from. Another young womxn, who had taken on the noble work of creating awareness to mental health, thought that the former’s pain was, “not that serious.”

Now, I am sufficiently aware that ours is still an obtusely homophobic society; and that many of us just do not understand how queer people can be different from who we, the status quo are. Even then, one need not be of a minority sexual orientation to feel empathy in the situation. We must all be empathetic as a basic rule, even for a scenario involving people who we do not understand. But more importantly, anyone who is remotely aware of the repercussions of mental disorders should be able to realize that that situation was as serious as it gets.

Yet, if you think about it, it is not entirely shocking that even a would be authority would think that was not serious. Half the time anybody exhibits a hyper awareness to a situation, we are so quick to throw a blanket over that fire, “you’re so sensitive!” Over the years as Ugandan feminists cleaned the TL of misogyny by countering sexist tweets and shutting down sexists, there were comments that the timeline has become “so sensitive” that one can’t make a joke “in peace.” As though it is more burdensome to be a decent human being than it is to just be a complete dickhead. Isn’t it though, you ask. You might be right too.

How many times after a trust you so openly gave, was broken, have you thought that it would have been better if you had not given it at all? Or, the saying that when you’re nice, people take that for granted, which by the way carries all the truth. But why is that? Why must good people ration their goodness in fear of fellow human beings destroying them? Why must womxn, “just don’t take nude pictures” because another person is likely to breach the code of intimacy?

So you’re thinking; oh, Edna. That’s just how the world is, get over yourself! And maybe it is, and I should. Except that would be to give humanity so little credit. I have been a long time believer in William Golding’s theory of evil being innate, but I also believe that we have the capacity to love even more than we hate. I want to challenge us to ration evil instead of goodness. I know from experience, as I am sure you do, that with a little more effort we can become better people. That is what we should aspire to.

We have consistently found ways to add negative connotations to sensitivity – a keen awareness to ours and others’ feelings, which if we strived for, the world would be a better place for it. Consequently, many adults walk around with unresolved childhood traumas whose potential resolution was frustrated by their families and internet strangers alike. Now might be the time to change that. This can be a challenge we rise to. Not just for the mental health awareness month and donor funding – but for ourselves too, and deliberately.

But as we prepare to make life less difficult for one another, we are going to address our own issues. We are going to talk about our pain and seek psychotherapy help when we can. We are going to pay attention to how other people might feel. We are going to seek empathy like our next month’s rent depends on it. We are going to acknowledge and dig up our own traumas which have turned us into cold, savage, insensitive shells of our former selves who think that emotion is weakness. We are going to pick those traumas apart and let them go.

Sexual Harassment Against Womxn in the Workplace

Something for Something Love

News, Stories


“how quiet can we make this woman?
misogyny”

~ Ijeoma Umebinyuo

I was a little shy of 18 when I got my first job outside home. I remember getting lost on the way to the interview, walking around in the sweltering heat until my shirt stuck to my back. When I finally made it to the place, the boss only asked one or two questions before giving me a tour of the place. There was no contract; and the job description changed according to how the day went. I was hired as a cashier but I also organized shelves, made burgers, waited tables, scooped ice cream, and helped customers pick out items. Despite the 12 hour shifts and the measly pay, I enjoyed working at that job. I enjoyed earning my own money and every month I received it with glee. Even as I dread Monday mornings today, I am grateful for an opportunity to put in an honest day’s work every day.

A Senior State Attorney in the Ministry of Justice, Miss Samantha Mwesigye recently came out to say that she has been suffering sexual harassment at the hands of her boss, Christopher Gashirabake. In a media interview, she complained of unwanted sexual advances, of being treated unfairly at work because she refused him, of being humiliated before her colleagues, and of being ignored when she reported the matter. The story felt very personal – I remember the joy of getting my hands into actual legal work when I did my clerkship and when I started my job. I can only imagine how traumatic it has been for Samantha, to have the joy of work sucked away by the constant abhorrent behavior of Gashirabake.

Professor Sylvia Tamale in a talk I attended grouped sexual harassment in two types. The first is quid pro quo sexual harassment or to borrow a terribly chosen term that we are familiar with “something for something love”. This is where a person in a position of authority requests for sexual favours in return for preferential treatment, or threatens poor treatment if the victim does not give in.

The second type of harassment is environmental, when the workplace is poisoned with inappropriately sexual written or spoken language like unwelcome verbal advances, sexual oriented comments, request for sexual favours, jokes of a sexual nature, offensive flirtation or obscene expressions of sexual interest, or a display of sexually suggestive visual materials. The most common environmental form of sexual harassment womxn often endure is unwanted and unwelcome touching, patting, pinching and the like (most womxn have given a man a handshake that involved that disgusting scratch).

Now, sexual harassment is not determined according to the intentions of the harasser – and saying you were only joking does not negate the act. If the victim finds the behavior to be unwelcome or offensive and it has a detrimental effect on their employment, job performance or job satisfaction, then that qualifies as sexual harassment.

One of the questions asked by the first interviewer to talk to Miss Mwesigye asked her if she had “given in”. The phrasing of this question appears to assume that sexual harassment is about attraction and sex, that the abuser is so taken with their employee, or that the victim has dressed or behaved in a way to “seduce” their abuser. Sexual harassment is not about sex or attraction. Professor Tamale places sexual harassment on the spectrum of gender based violence against womxn that includes street harassment, groping, domestic violence, and sexual assault.

Womxn have worked in and outside of their homes since time immemorial. The myth of the womxn who stays at home doing nothing is laughable to me. Since men rarely take on work within the home, they are thought of as belonging in the public spaces like offices, streets, etc. Men are the default idea of a doctor, engineer, trader, lawyer, or accountant.

Sexual harassment is a gendered type of bullying that serves to push womxn out of public spaces into the “private” spaces where they “belong.” That is why many more womxn suffer it than men. When a man brings sexual comments or requests into a professional environment, especially if they are in a position of power over you, they are reducing you to a sex object, negating the contribution you make to the space you occupy.

Womxn are making invaluable contributions to our society, in all the places that they have been routinely told they don’t belong: science, law, politics, journalism, to mention but a few. It is our duty to make the work spaces they occupy against so many odds as safe as possible. The law has prescribed structures, like the requirement for a sexual harassment policy and committee to investigate complaints. We must push for their establishment at work places, especially public offices like the Ministry of Justice, which had no such structures until February 2019, 10 years after it drafted the law governing this issue.

It is also important that victims of sexual harassment receive support as they go through the harrowing and re-traumatising process of seeking justice. Perpetrators of sexual harassment must also face the consequences of their behavior publically.

As womxn, we deserve to work and earn a living, to carry out whatever trade or profession we have chosen without being dehumanized and demeaned at work.

VISIBLE YET SO INVISIBLE

Stories

On Valentine’s Day, a couple of friends and I sat down to watch ‘Set It Up’, a romantic comedy, because that’s not the cheesiest thing one might do on V-Day! In one of the scenes, the main character is stuck in an elevator with a fat man, who is of course, claustrophobic and decides to undress, to the dread of the two other people. This scene is meant to be funny, since, y’kno, who would want to be stuck in an elevator and subjected to this person’s fat body? Admittedly, I was uncomfortable throughout this scene; I couldn’t laugh because I didn’t find it funny and if my friends laughed, it would feel like an insult to me. Cause wouldn’t that mean that they were laughing at me? I mean, I am fat too, so if they found that funny, then they definitely thought the same about my body?   

I do not remember when exactly, or how old I was when I came to the realization that I was a fat person. But I do know that I was in primary school, I do know that I could not have been more than 10 years old and I do know that with this realization, my life changed. I mostly remember the looks, expressions and comments from strangers, family and friends, on my fat body. I could not go to the store, school or even church without someone hurling insulting and abusive words at me about my body. I changed from a free-spirited, outspoken young girl who rode her bike down stairs and climbed trees with her brothers, to the girl that sat at the back of the class,  rarely spoke out and was too afraid to be seen. I was very visible to everyone yet at the same time felt so invisible.

Here’s the reality: when you are fat, everyone sees you. I mean, how could they not? Except no one really sees you. Fatness is regarded so negatively that people are not only concerned about their own weight, but that of others. Now, while we all have issues with our bodies and have something that we would like to change about them, fat bodies are especially considered repulsive. Thanks (no thanks!) to the media and the extremely superficial beauty industry, everybody wants to look a certain way. Suddenly there’s a right way to be beautiful and being fat does not quite make the cut! Women, in general, are more concerned, distressed and punished for their weight than men. Women’s body issues relate to inequality and body weight continues to be one of the few remaining acceptable reasons to discriminate against someone and this is especially true where the target is a woman. Discrimination against fat people takes different forms; from the denigrating comments you might make towards a fat person, to the looks and the sighs you could direct their way when they sit next to you in a  taxi, or even the jokes and snide comments about their bodies.

When I started reading feminist theory a couple of years back, I finally found the inclusivity that had long eluded me. For me, feminism is about the social, economic and political equality of all genders. It is about affirming women and celebrating our achievements and struggles. Feminism teaches that women’s bodies are a political object – evident  in the way that society regulates our bodies. Feminism teaches that women’s bodies are our own and not for the pleasure of anyone else. Feminism challenges homogeneity of what constitutes beauty and beauty standards that have long been part of our oppression.

Discrimination against fat people is socially acceptable because of the often misguided belief that fat people can control their weight and therefore deserve whatever is coming to them. When I talk to people about the staggering discrimination facing fat people, the ignorant feedback often ranges from ‘why not just lose weight’ to ‘you can’t change the world, you can only change yourself’ which implies that I deserve this treatment because I fail to take control of my body. My very humanity is erased because I dare to live in a body that Roxane Gay so aptly describes as “unruly”.

So next time you see a fat woman, how about you have a conversation about anything else but weight – theirs or yours! . How about you tell her she’s beautiful. Because fat and beautiful are not opposites. How about you don’t make mean comments about another fat person and assume that it doesn’t affect your friend because you’re not specifically talking about her. When a fat person tells you how they feel about their body, don’t dismiss their fears or pain; listen and ask how you can help. Cause the bottom line is, we are all desperate to be at peace and dwell in the bodies that we have.

If you’re a fat girl reading this, hey girl hey! I see you, I truly see you. Surround yourself with positive people. Read feminist literature and blogs written by fat people. Watch content that showcases fat people in a positive light (I recommend Shrill). And don’t be afraid to try new things. Cause you can be fat and a bunch of other things (funny, smart, adventurous, ambitious, sexy – the list is truly endless).

P.S: Don’t let the muggles get you down.

3

Why Uganda’s Advertising Industry Hasn’t Moved Past Sexism

News, Opinion

2019, like previous years, doesn’t seem to be starting on a kind note for Ugandan feminists.

First, there was the proposal on February 6 by Godfrey Kiwanda, the State Minister for Tourism, to have “curvy womyn” as a tourist attraction. As though that was not enough, MTN Uganda, arguably the largest telecom company in the country, launched its “Mr google sir” advert, which depicted a pot-bellied man directing unwanted attention towards a womyn waiting on a bus bench. (Let’s not even get into the fact that the advert goes further to assign Google a gender and no shocker, it is a ‘he’/‘sir’.)

This image, for many womyn, was nothing new. if anything, it was a recreation of the daily harassment that many Ugandan womyn experience at the hands of men, just walking down the street. The usual “Sister you look like my size,” to the full-on aggression of some random man grabbing your hand (or buttocks!) as you go about minding your own business.

The sad thing is that this isn’t shocking; women’s bodies have long been treated as objects. Ugandan media has, for the longest time, portrayed women’s bodies as spectacles for men to consume.

Media does package sexism to make it appear as a compliment. Like the idea that men finding you attractive and invading your personal space should be a compliment to you and you should, therefore, pat yourself on the shoulder when that happens, because it means you are a worthy thing to be consumed.

It is clear that whatever ad agency pitched the idea to the MTN marketing department went through all the necessary channels for the particular ad to be approved, including getting the green light from senior management officials. This is evidence of just how sexist all these power structures are.  

There is a conscious manipulation of representations and it serves no more purpose than to get a “rise” out of the audience.

My point is that the need to recreate sexist advert after sexist advert isn’t based on only ignorance, but rather the conscious decision to normalise abuse of womyn to the extent that it is consumed as the norm and no questions arise when this kind of harassment happens to womyn.

Like the social learning theory points out, not only are we socialised by the media we consume, but we also receive most of the data that informs how we think and behave, in regards to several aspects of life, not least of which is gender relations.

The advertising industry in Uganda can do better.  Like all creative industries, they could hire more feminist womyn and start/or continue to work on simply educating themselves on what constitutes sexist ads.


© 2021 Lakwena

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