Beneath a Baobab: Stories from Sénégal

Kii jigeen la. Now that’s a woman.—A compliment or insult? Comparing the roles and rights of women in the US and SN.

So my head is, as it often is here in Senegal, in a jumble as I try to sort out my thoughts on yet another tough topic—women. This translates into feminism, women’s rights, and the role of the Senegalese woman. Senegalese society is incredibly different from that of the States, or at least that in which I grew up in Skokie/Evanston, Illinois. I recently had a 2-hour discussion with American and Senegalese students on this topic. It opened my mind and eyes a lot.

When I first arrived in Senegal, I was extremely disappointed to see the seeminly subordinate role women play in society here. I believed that they were relegated to all that was domestic and didn’t have much of a choice in the course their lives took. Society, it seemed, expected them to grow up, marry young, have lots of children and stay in the house all day to raise the children, cook the meals, clean the house, do the laundry, etc, etc. … the tasks from which, I feel, women in the US have been fighting for decades to be relieved.

I hope that as I continue with this entry, no one is offended. I suppose my thoughts could come across as judgmental or offensive to women in the US or “une senegalaise” who might happen upon this site. But I feel it’s best to express my dead-honest opinions, the ideas that tumble and collide with one another in my head. I shared the following thoughts with the group:

I think everyone can agree that education is a fundamental human right. And I believe that it is at the base of feminism. Once you are educated, opportunities open up for you. Your life is improved. Economically speaking, you can enter the professional world. And that opens up an entirely different conversation about equality in the workplace, one that I’m not willing to discuss right now. (But on that note, I was shocked to read the other day that they just now made it so that men and women are awarded equally for winning the Wimbledon. There is still a lot of work left for us in this world.) Anyway, I guess it is our western feminism that believes women should not have to stay at home and should instead be at the office alongside their husbands. The Senegalese pointed out that this is not a model that can be imposed upon Senegalese, or African, society. It simply does not work for them. Women are the most honored and respected members of society. You could say, they hold this society, with a high value on family, together. You will never talk to a man who loves his mama more than a Senegalese man does. Unfortunately, women play a subordinate role. Even though all decisions are run past the mothers and, in theory, take their opinion into careful consideration, it is the man who is the vehicle for making and announcing the decision. Men are always served first; when shaking hands, it is appreciated if the woman curtsies; men hold the leadership positions; men earn the money, women tend to the household…. And the list goes on. But ask any man, and his mama is his favorite person. All men know the value of the woman. They know they would not exist if it were not for their mothers. And it’s true, “Les femmes senegalaises font tout!!” The Senegalese women do everything!! It’s really unbelievable.

So my question is now this: as this new generation of women advances in their education, what will they do once they are married? Will they work/continue to work, and leave their children with another family member during the day? Or will they stay at home to raise their family? Originally, I judged this as throwing away their education. But I now realize that this is NOT at all the case. It is important to have educated women raising families. I personally thought working in the professional field was the only way to put an education to good use, but I was WRONG, and I am the first to admit it. I personally benefited from having a mother who slowed her professional interests for many years in order to raise my sister and me. And I am ever grateful. So who am I to judge a nation of women who make the same sacrifice in order to raise their children?

After talking to the women who were in this discussion, they said, once they get married they plan to combine their familial and professional interests. They will likely do like many families in Dakar that have a working mother and father, they will, incha allah, hire a maid to help with the cleaning, and use their family members to help take care of the children during the day. However, they will still continue to do their share in child raising, meal preparation, and household cleaning. One woman wakes up at 5:45 every morning to sweep the house and do other chores before leaving to participate in this program, and she has achieved her bac, done 2 years of higher-education, and worked professionally for a year. But she knows that if she doesn’t wake up early, it will be her mother who has to do the work and she hates to see that happen.

At one point I made the comment that I am almost proud of the fact that I don’t know how to cook or clean. They were appalled. I definitely don’t take pride in this, but it was to say that: yes, I AM a woman, but no, those are not things I will learn to do, or feel obligated to do, BECAUSE I am a woman.

One of the Senegalese men also brought up a huge point—privilege. Throughout my time here, I’ve become increasingly aware of the privilege I was awarded by being born into an upper-middle-class white family in the United States, but I had never thought of it in this context. In the United States we have machines that do everything. Machines that save women time so they can go to work instead. You put your laundry in a machine, go to class or work, come back and it is clean. You turn on the faucet and water comes out. You run the vacuum cleaner and minutes later, the dust has been removed. Just the fact of having a carpet means you’ve got decent funds. And after a long day at school or work, you can come home, pop something into the toaster oven or microwave and have your meal ready in 5 minutes. In Senegal, this is not the case! Laundry is a four-hour process requiring constant action on the washer’s part. In the bush, you must go to the well to get your water. To remove dust, you bend your body in half and use a hand-held broom. To make a meal, you cook for 2-3 hours. In Senegal, if these women don’t do all these tasks, who will? In the States, you can say the machines will, but that is not yet the case here. (And of course, you can ask why can’t the men help with all these tasks. This is a good question. But they also have defined chores, such as tending to the farms and animals to provide food for the family, and collecting the materials to make fences, etc. Personally, I’d like to see men and women share in all these tasks, and they do to a certain extent, but throughout human history, there have been activities relegated to the different sexes.) So I think that all westerners, before judging too harshly this society with defined gender roles and trying to impose our values on another culture, must first carefully consider the privileges we have at home, with the means to buy our time-saving machines, and the infrastructure, such as electricity and running water, that allows them to work.

I also tried to explain to the Senegalese that in the States, stay-at-home-moms do not receive nearly as much respect as the women do here. Is this a side effect of the feminist movement? —that now raising a family is looked down upon, compared to a woman who works alongside her husband in the professional field. And maybe my impressions are all way off the mark, but this is certainly how I feel. It is considered alternative these days to be a stay-at-home mom. How is it that raising your children is now alternative?! (And I think that this is also another privilege, since it seems to me that you need two sources of income in order to support a family these days.) In Senegal, there is an extremely strong family value, one of which I am not aware in the United States and I believe this is thanks to the fact that the mom stays at home to raise the children here.

I fear that in the US, women who stay at home to take care of the family and do domestic chores are seen as taking on a secondary role. It brings me back to the popular “a woman’s place is in the kitchen” jokes from high school. I think that attitude has made me very resentful of everything that is domestic; I’m on a personal mission to prove myself equal to men. In this quest, I’ve tried to dissociate myself with anything and everything domestic. But in Senegal it’s a different game. I shared with the group, that when in the bush, nothing made me prouder than when a man or women would come into our compound, and upon seeing me doing the dishes or sweeping the floor, would announce, “Kii jigeen la,” meaning, “Now that’s a woman.” I loved helping in the house. That is an honored and respected role here.

My other question for these women, is that if they decide to stay home and stop working once they are married, will they be doing this because they want to or because they feel this is society’s expectation for them as a married woman? I never really got an answer to this. But I think it is because they want to. Though I’m not sure they feel there are many other options. But they told me that just as I take pride in not being able to cook, they take great pride in being able to cook and take care of a household.

At one point in the conversation, one of the Senegalese men acknowledged that their society was transitioning, that women were achieving high levels of education and entering the work field. But he asked the women to do it slowly, and to teach their children these new values. But I reminded them, that this transition would require a change in the men’s comportment as well. As increasing numbers of women go to college and enter the professional world, men will have to accept this, and make changes in their own attitudes, behavior and contributions in the household so that the women can do this successfully.

And now, I suppose this comes back to me. I had a lot of time in the bush to sit and think, to evaluate what is important to me, and to try and figure out how I want to lead my life, based on the life lessons I’m learning here. In fact, I think I did that for about 12 hours a day. Here, when a man asks if I’m married, I give him an incredulous look, shake my head, and tell him I’m too young. He asks my age; I tell him twenty. Without fail, he tells me I’m not too young, and asks how long am I planning on waiting. I tell him about 10 years. Now he’s the shocked member of the conversation. His jaw drops. He tells me I’ll be too old when I’m 30. But I explain that I need to finish my studies at the university, and travel and work for a few years, incha allah, to establish myself in the professional world, before settling down with a husband and starting a family. If I’m lucky, he finally nods in agreement and understanding; sometimes though he’ll insist that I need to get married soon, telling me my plans are no good; or he’ll just give up since I’m a tubaab with western ideals. I hope that I can find a happy medium between being a professional and being a mom. I don’t think these are two mutually exclusive roles. They definitely should not be. It would be incredible to be at home during my children’s early years. I was lucky enough to have both my parents working from the house through my junior year of high school. I think this has had a huge impact on the person I am today. I want to do the same for my children. My parents have shown to me that this is possible and I am forever grateful. I have always had a hard time reconciling my personal professional goals and wanting to be a “good mom,” without ever being considered domestic. But I think in Senegal, I’ve realized that it’s possible to be all three and that that is a huge accomplishment and honor.

posted by Hannah Gelder @ 6:54 PM