The Perils of Cooptation

In her book “No Logo”, Naomi Klein writes that ‘In the early 90s, the political agenda of the civil movements and that of the women’s movements were used to make brand-content and marketing niche strategies.’

What I take this to mean is that, the brands took a small part of what people were fighting for, increased the media visibility of women and minorities, then sold it back to us so we are made to believe that “great strides have been made in women’s empowerment, men are finally involved” and so feminism “will only bring a greater divide.” I have two problems with this: Firstly, I’m tired of being told “women are empowered enough” and secondly, I hate how women’s right’s issues only seem to really become important when men are involved. Instead of really being allies, men are assuming leadership in the discourse, and we women permit it because somehow we are relieved that the men are finally “concerned and active.”

My greatest fear is that the continuing misconception of feminism just “disempowering” men and the combination of self-righteous, abstract “higher good” attitudes somehow introduces “manhood” as the real issue. This is proven each time someone asks me “what men have where women have feminism” or “why should men be involved in women’s issues?”

Unless we want feminism and the fight for women’s rights and equality to be reduced to nothing more than “feel good” pep talks, without questioning the pillars of how the world works, we cannot afford to opt out. I understand only too well the desire to believe that we are not all that oppressed, but while we can be forgiven for tuning down oppression in our personal lives (like I often just grin and bear it), we will not get anywhere if we do not recognise the forces keeping all human beings oppressed. We cannot afford to turn a blind eye to the patriarchy that surrounds us!

Women only as (long) serving Martha’s?

I grew up a Catholic. My mother is and always was a stout Catholic. Therefore I know that at least in the congregation where my mother went, women were the back bone of the flock. They were – and I suppose still are the one constant in respect of church attendance. But their involvement in the church does not stop there. My mother being one of the stalwarts in her congregation,  was only one of the many women who serve not only in the church. They were and are concerned about the wellbeing of the flock as well. In the process probably took over many of the tasks of the clergy (men).

Women also do not play an insignificant role in the church itself, but only in as far as they are represented in the many (?) orders that serve in the church and in communities.

Today, watching the conclavists gather to enter the synod room, I could not but be surprised – in spite of the fact that this is how it always was – at the fact that not a single woman is represented. I understand that there are some women – nuns from the order of Domus Sanctae Marthae -  who are allowed in the conclave, probably only as cooks, waiters and cleaners – I wouldn’t be surprised.  The name strongly suggests this. They are literally from the house of St. Martha. The same Martha who when my mother wanted to impress how good and hardworking one of her five daughters was, she would refer to as “my dienende Martha.”  My serving Martha. Or my Martha of servitude... Somehow the reference very seldom was bestowed on me. Back to the nuns of the order of Domus Sanctae Marthae. They are sworn to secrecy, so we will probably never hear what they actually are doing in the conclave – so we keep on speculating.

Every person following the secret proceedings of the conclave must wonder about how an organisation whose majority – let’s call it membership – consists of women manages to have women “represented” only as servants and waiters. Where is the outcry from the very women in the church. Are they not feeling cheated? What about the church’s position on contraception, women’s priesthood, and church leadership? What about the many allegations of abuse of women’s children by many of the male representative of the holy institution? Do women church goers have nothing to say about this?

I for one, have left the church a long time ago. I voted with my feet. If the church is not interested in me as a woman and have me represented, I cannot be expected to be interested in the church.

Feminism and Dating

I've been invited to go on radio tonight, and I'm told the topic of discussion will be "tips on proposing". "Naturally", these tips will be for men on how to ask women out, because, well, women just don't ask men out... it's "unnatural". As I was thinking about what I'm going to say on radio tonight, I got thinking that perhaps I should go in with 'feminist tips on proposing.' I typed that on google search and in a nutshell, most of what came up is that be it in dating or marriage, no matter how liberal a woman "claims" to be, they like to be asked... Apparently we don't like to have a say at all, we just pretend we do, but deep down we are dying to be wooed, wined and dined.

An article that caught my eye however, is one that said "feminism confuses dating" apparently feminists have "taken all the fun" out of dating because now women too want not only to pay for outings, but ask men out too and in turn men don't always know what is "expected" of them. In the "traditional" sense of dating, a man is supposed to ask a woman out, and she, flattered that a man has shown interest in her, should obligingly say yes. They will then go out, if this woman is "lucky" she could even pick where they would go, the man will open doors, pull out chairs, pay for everything and at the end of the outing he will expect the woman to fall at his feet (or jump into his bed) because he's been such a gentleman. If she doesn't comply with these "societal rules" then woman is either labelled a tease, gold-digger or the now famous (in Namibia) dirty Kandeshi.

Now suppose we were to go completely crazy and have a society where women can express interest in men, pay for their dates and turn down proposals without being called "dirty", "cheap", "easy" or emasculating. Such a society would mean the power relations are even, that both men and women have equal say in relationships  and that men do not have a hold of any sort over women. I see how that might get "confusing".

The Allure of the Stiletto

I always have to marvel at the way young women dress in this town. It is clear that many a young women must be spending quite a bit on creating a special Windhoek look. We have talked about hair quite a few times already. For practically every woman on the streets of Windhoek has her hair either straightened or weaved.  The few who do not have hair – or HBOs as I call them – must be either dirt poor or just too negligent or backwards.

But then there are the clothes. And I have a distinct feeling that it no longer suffices to be clean, neat and fitted. The women that I see in town are all dressed up to the nines. Either in power suits or in outfits that strongly resembles evening and ballwear even at the sunniest and hottest time of the day. But the most astounding thing is the shoes. I cannot stop wondering how it might be possible for so many women to walk – even make progress – in the kinds of shoes that I see on the streets and on the rocky sidewalks of our town.

It is not uncommon for young students either from Polytechnic or UNAM to teeter to town in their high-heeled shoes, sometimes even in their stilettos.

I am completely gobsmacked by this spectacle. For surely this is what it is. A cultural phenomenon! But where should this come from? I cannot imagine that girls in the rural areas are wearing similar shoes when they go to town, whether town is Rundu, Ongwediva, or Mariental.

Somehow I am strangely reminded of the lotus feet of ancient China which Wikipedia makes me understand, ancient Chinese men found so alluring. The tightly bound and mutilated feet became a symbol for the status of men in the China of the time. Mutilating the feet of a woman meant that that she could barely walk – or if she walked, could only walk in tiny dainty little steps that men found so enthralling. Not only could women with lotus feet hardly walk, they certainly could not work and this directly reflected on the status and power of her husband.

Now back to present-day Namibia. Could there be a similar meaning in the torture that so many young girls have to endure while wearing the highest, most “sexy” stilettos in town? I am sure that if asked, every single tortured young woman would claim that she does it for herself. And that she feels good in these shoes. But still – forever the sceptic-, I just cannot shrug the feeling that there is more to it than that.

Could it, for instance be that wearing well- or precariously-heeled shoes, even while having to foot the distance between campus and town, has become a symbol for having establishing a distance between a more rural upbringing and the newly-found sophistication of urban existence? For surely, our farm-mouse sisters will be working the fields in nothing other than flip-flops – should they be so lucky to have flip-flops.  Otherwise they would be bare feet.

The stiletto, on the other hand tells of having embraced a lifestyle emulated from top international celebrities like Beyoncé, Rhiana, Gaga and the like. It exudes worldliness, an urbane and stylish lifestyle. Somehow I have the idea that walking to town in stilettos is a post-modernist statement – in other words an absurd and ironic self reference to modernity urban sophistication.

The stiletto of course is also about sex. It is about being sexy or being perceived to be sexy. These are bedroom shoes that have found their way to the rough and dusty streets of Katutura, Khomasdal and Windhoek West. Yes, they are still teetering, but eventually, they’ll find their way to the malls of our city. Power to our well-heeled sisters!

Think about the weakest

Somebody asked me a question about prostitution only today. While I cannot remember what the question was exactly, I recall that it was something to do with the “problem” of prostitution in Namibia.

This set me thinking about the moral dilemma that exists between feminism and prostitution or sex work. On the one hand, it is indicative of the power relations that exist between men and women and the exploitative nature of sex work. There is no question that human trafficking – which ultimately is what prostitution is about - is morally deplorable and that society and the state should take a firm stand against it.

However, I am constantly bothered by attitudes that prevail in Namibia about sex workers or prostitutes. For in our society, we have opted to condemn the prostitute. She becomes that promiscuous harlot whose (only) function in life it is to seduce our men in return for money. The prostitute is morally corrupt, therefore is not deserving of our empathy or sympathy – even if she is abused, cheated, raped and sometimes killed.   She after all, “deserved” this abuse either because she was wearing short/ revealing clothing, was loitering for sex on the street at night, she is a loose woman, or because she is a drug addict. She is never seen as someone’s daughter, sister or mother.

In Namibia, we very rarely – if ever - condemn either the users/ clients, or the pimps to the same extent that the prostitute is denounced. They (the users) after all were lured into the web of a wily spider who is after his money or his sex.  Therefore we all would support government action to outlaw prostitutes and their trade. They are criminals and should be removed from the streets of our city and towns. As a consequence, when in December 2012, police in Rundu arrested women in mini dresses and hot pants, they were removing crime from the street. Anyone with decency could see that and we remained mum at the time. In fact, we almost allowed Inspector General Ndeitunga to criminalise all women who he considered to have loose morals on the basis of their/ our clothing.

However, there is another approach; Because sex work or prostitution is a symptom of a world in which women typically have to bear the brunt of poverty, exploitation and domination, we can decide to side with the sex worker – the victims.

We could, for instance create a legal context that protects the sex worker from the exploitation of either the pimp or the user. Criminalise the not only the handlers and human traffickers, but also the users, those predatory men who prey on the vulnerability of many women (and girls) in our society. For they, after all are the ones who are really benefitting from selling a person’s sexuality, dignity, autonomy and physical and mental wellbeing.

On this International Women’s Day, we urge all to spare a thought for the plight of our most marginalised sister and to begin to consider a shift in paradigm where we can have solidarity with the weak and the forlorn in our communities, namely those women and girls who have slipped into the hands of pimps and traffickers and who continue to be at the mercy of ruthless men, whose only goal is their own perversions and sexual gratification. They, not the poor woman who does not have a choice in her domination and exploitation,  should be the ones who should be taken off our streets.   

No time to smell the roses

I just got flowers delivered to me and I’m giggling like a school girl, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world and wanting to shout off the rooftops what a wonderful man I have in my life and how grateful I am for the male species. Then my attention is drawn to the headline on the paper on my desk and I’m reminded that another life has been lost at the hands of this “wonderful” species. No, I do not hate men and I certainly do not think ‘all men are the same’… I know there are some really good men out there, I can testify. However, it becomes a little difficult to recognise and appreciate them in the wake of what other men are doing.

I would have liked today’s blog post to be a happy, empowering and uplifting one. But how can we be happy when 13 and 17 year olds continue to be battered and continue to lose their lives? How can we claim empowerment when we continue to be silenced by a society that defends patriarchy?

It’s almost impossible to take time to smell the roses when we remember that in that very moment, a young girl could be getting raped. It’s almost impossible to see any good in life when there continues to be bloodshed at the hands of the same people that the same patriarchal system would have us believe are our “protectors”.

It’s hard to celebrate what little progress has been made in the women’s rights battle, when the facts so starkly remind us that it really is little and we have a long way to go yet.  

Working For A Women's Organisation

Growing up in a chauvinistic environment with teachings  of men being superior to women in all aspects (except the kitchen obviously), it was inevitable really that I was to grow into a bigot of sorts.  A woman's place is in the kitchen, women are too emotional to have positions of power, women should stay home and raise the kids- these are but a few of the traditions imparted on and by extension instilled into me.

So coming to work in a feminist organization was a whole new and entirely different experience for me. I was dealing with a matriarchy here, a high mother giving orders, making decisions, with her fellow "subjects" who were all from the same species... I felt surrounded and scared, as if they'd rip me apart at any moment. I thus always felt the need to make my point, show them who's the man here, but it was pointless. They were immune to my condescending  attitude. Did I mention the discomfort I felt about their campaigns? Supporting lesbianism? I was like what the hell is this that I got myself into? These people here are supporting everything I regard taboo.

But eventually, like they had some sort of ninja fire jutsu, they managed to melt the ice from not only off these eyes, but most importantly, from off this once cold heart of mine.  And slowly my views started changing, my outlook and perspective on life, on the way I perceived women, on the way I treated women- it all changed. I've learned not only about loving them, but respecting them, seeing them as I see me or any other man on a level plain field... but the most heartwarming part, seeing them as better than me. Working with them I have first handedly witnessed and observed how respect and love breaks the chains of traditions that says women are subordinates. It broke the ignorance in me that made me feel like I'm working with a high mother and her subjects and alternatively made me see them as family.

With this new and evolving mindset I now see the (what I once called), species of this organization  as women, standing together fighting not for acceptance, but for respect. And their passion is so igniting that I too find myself fighting the urge to scream "Viva women empowerment" every time I see a woman who refuses to let a man dictate to her what to wear, or what to do. "Viva women", every time a woman sends that lying cheating bastard to hell. I want to scream "women for president!", "women for popess!" or whatever they call a female pope.

I'm getting carried away, the patriarch in me will never forgive me, but the ever suppressed loving, respecting, emotional man in me says what the hell, Go woman! and take a Sister Namibia issue with you.