This is a blog i wrote of the Huffington in commemoration of 16 Days of Activism against gender based violence
I want to tell you about the day it happened and about the next day.
About how I felt and the days after that when fragments of that day
would spill in unexpected spaces and places. And the months after that
when I discovered all the creative ways to not deal with or address
"that day." And the year after that when I would spill some more unto
strangers and other friends who'd calmly, as calmly as they could
possibly configure, politely ask, "Why did you go that night?" I want to
tell you about how I'd fold into a thousand more pieces because my
answer was so simple, obvious in its simplicity. I liked him. I trusted him.
I want to tell you about what my body did and the ways it broke, bent,
contouring itself into surprise shapes and sizes -- repairing itself as
our bodies often do, only for that progress to be halted by memories
that would not repair as quickly. Maybe if I tell you about bleeding,
feeling decapitated, being frozen and shaken all in a single moment or
in a series of moments, and maybe if I tell you about being
unrecognizable to yourself and the feeling of departing from your very
own body as you welcome shame to lay rest on your skin, in the crevices
of your mind and heart, then 35 percent would mean more than a statistic to you. Thirty-five percent. That's the proportion of women globally that have experienced that kind of pain either due to physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence.
Millions of young girls and women either process or don't process this
pain; they either talk about the plethora of ways it defines, shapes and
influences who they choose to become or not become. When they don't
talk, there silence screams, and 35 percent just remains an unfriendly
statistic to you.
Let's talk about sexual and physical violence -- about how it
violates the body, how it violently strips self agency of women -- and
the anger, powerlessness, silence, confinement, strength, abruption,
dreams, hopes, dance that it elicits. We can also talk about the serious
health consequences -- the short- and long-term physical, mental,
sexual and reproductive health problems that survivors must deal with
after and because of the violence experienced. Recent WHO figures show that immediate consequences of intimate partner violence and sexual violence include unintended pregnancies, induced abortions, gynecological problems, and sexually transmitted infections, including HIV. A WHO 2013 analysis found that women who had been physically or sexually abused were 15 times
more likely to have a sexually transmitted infection than women who had
not experienced partner violence. Intimate partner violence in
pregnancy also increases the likelihood of miscarriage, stillbirth,
pre-term delivery and low birth weight babies. The link between
violence and its impact on health does not stop there; health effects
also include headaches, back pain, abdominal pain, fibromyalgia,
gastrointestinal disorders, limited mobility and poor overall health.
Does this list seem long? Let me remind you that 1 in 3 women
globally will experience intimate or non-intimate partner physical
and/or sexual violence. Now read the physical, emotional and
psychological effects of violence again, keeping in mind that this is
what a third of girls/women on the planet will go through at least once
in their lifetime.
This is the world we live in today and it seems like we are beginning
to become desensitized, almost complacent to the proliferation of
violence against women. Unfortunately, my story is not unique. I will
tell you about my girlfriend who once told me about being 8 and being
"played" with by her uncle while growing up in our home country, Sierra
Leone. I want to tell you about the upheld strength in her eyes as she
laughed at the absurdity of it all, quickly going on about other things.
I want to tell you about the sexual violence case that gripped Sierra
Leone in September, when the former deputy Minister of Education was
charged with allegedly raping
a 24-year-old university student. For a moment there it was all
everyone could talk about. Some recounted their own personal
experiences, many glazed through the topic, others were enraged and yet,
I will tell you about how the media
tore her apart, and how hearsay made many people unsympathetic to her
story and how influential men started to have their "guard up" about the
women they chose to have affairs with. I could also tell you how
society's response to this high profile case will deter many from
speaking out again.
There are general laws in Sierra Leone that are meant to improve and protect the rights of young girls and women, like the Child Rights Act of 2007, which promotes the rights of the child and is compatible with the Convention on the Rights of the child.
There also exists a Family Support Unit within the Sierra Leone Police
(SLP), with trainings to help police build skills to better address
gender violence reports.
However, I will tell you about how these laws, these commitments by government are neither effectively implemented nor enforced. I will tell you about the disturbingly high out-of-court settlements for sexual and gender-based violence, as if it's a one-time thing, with no ripple effect. They say atonement has been made for the violence -- atonement for the event of the violent act itself, that is. Not for the interruption of her good health, her mental and emotional sanctity, her stolen agency. I will tell you that we, the women, do not like to talk about the violence that happens against us for the sake of maintaining our social dignity and respect, for fear that it too will easily be taken from us if we become too open, too outraged, too vocal about intimate partner/nonintimate partner physical or sexual violence against us, against our friends, our sisters, our daughters.
Then, I will tell you about an 11-year-old girl I met in 2012 in Mattru-Jong, located in the southern province of Sierra Leone, who was suffering from fistula, having being raped since the age of 9. I will tell you about her eyes that still haunt me to this day. I will tell you about her shy and calm demeanor, and then some more about her eyes that seemed dead. In Africa today, women aged 15 and older have a 45.6 percent lifetime prevalence risk of intimate partner violence/non-partner sexual violence.
However, I will tell you about how these laws, these commitments by government are neither effectively implemented nor enforced. I will tell you about the disturbingly high out-of-court settlements for sexual and gender-based violence, as if it's a one-time thing, with no ripple effect. They say atonement has been made for the violence -- atonement for the event of the violent act itself, that is. Not for the interruption of her good health, her mental and emotional sanctity, her stolen agency. I will tell you that we, the women, do not like to talk about the violence that happens against us for the sake of maintaining our social dignity and respect, for fear that it too will easily be taken from us if we become too open, too outraged, too vocal about intimate partner/nonintimate partner physical or sexual violence against us, against our friends, our sisters, our daughters.
Then, I will tell you about an 11-year-old girl I met in 2012 in Mattru-Jong, located in the southern province of Sierra Leone, who was suffering from fistula, having being raped since the age of 9. I will tell you about her eyes that still haunt me to this day. I will tell you about her shy and calm demeanor, and then some more about her eyes that seemed dead. In Africa today, women aged 15 and older have a 45.6 percent lifetime prevalence risk of intimate partner violence/non-partner sexual violence.
Gender violence affects health; beyond that, it destabilizes the
emotional and spiritual core of a girl, of a young woman -- as it did to
that calm 9-year-old girl, to my girlfriend, the 24-year-old who spoke
out against being raped and to millions of women worldwide. As we
continue to commemorate 16 days of activism against gender-based violence,
better work needs to be done to assign responsibility to gender
violence that destabilizes health systems, social ecosystems and
economic systems. Better work needs to be done by us Sierra Leonean
women in becoming bolder and louder about our stories. These experiences
do not make us weak -- the experience of violation does -- we need to
become more comfortable in sharing our own personal stories of physical
and sexual violence while making sure that government, society, the laws
that be increasingly become more uncomfortable in maintaining the
status quo.
I want to talk to you about not only processing statistics and stories when you can, I instead urge us to act.
I urge us not to become complacent, I urge us to not judge survivors,
I implore us to embrace these stories, I implore us to scream, ask,
demand that better health and law systems are put in place to protect
victims. I ask us to adopt prevention practices by talking to our young
men, our men and bridging gender gaps by fostering meaningful
conversations that induce understanding and empathy. I ask that we
continue to re-envision a society where 1 in 3 women at not at risk of
sexual or physical violence during their lifetime. I demand that you act
today, that you do one thing that will nourish young girls and women
globally in the fight in ending violence against women. I want to one
day be able to tell you a very different story.
No comments:
Post a Comment