By Imran Darboe
A few days ago, while driving, I stopped to drop off a passenger I had given a ride to, and a young woman approached me, hesitantly, asking if I would give her a ride. Her voice was timid, her demeanor unsure, and something about the way she asked struck me. I told her to hop on and asked where she was going, but as I drove, my mind obsessed about her lack of confidence. She seemed terribly ill-prepared to venture into the world, with such fear and uncertainty. I thought to myself “if this is the type of young women we raise to go out and face a world full of hyenas and vultures, then society is in trouble.” Her vulnerability was too glaring, as if she had walked into the world naked. If I had any predatory intentions, she would have been easy prey, and this realisation disturbed me as I realised, not for the first time, that we need more than appealing to the better nature of men and society to ensure security and fair treatment of women. We need to build women who, from childhood, embody confidence and resilience and can ward off the predators without fear. We cannot continue to raise young women in this manner — timid, uncertain and vulnerable, and expect them to stand up to a world that so often seeks to exploit them?
Of course whenever some of us hear “women’s rights” the misguided fears that empowered women will somehow cause societal collapse rise. No, we are not advocating empowerment and rights because we are agents of the west, we do so because our core values — our religion and culture — have always taught us and require us to do so. Both Islam (and I’m using the Islamic argument because it is my faith and it is what I have learned, I’m sure other faiths will probably hold similar values) and our African traditions have always held women in high regard, seen them as sanctified and essential in building progressive communities. Somewhere along the way, we lost it.
When I reflect on Islamic history, the strength and assertiveness of women is apparent in almost all respects. Consider Khawla bint al-Azwar in military terms, a fearless warrior who disguised herself as a man to lead a battle against the Roman army, stunning her comrades with her combat skills when they found out she was a woman. Or Aisha bint Abu Bakr, the Prophet’s wife, known for her sharp intellect and leadership in political matters, even leading an army during “the Battle of the Camel” (look these up if interested). Then there was Khawla bint Tha’laba, who boldly approached the Prophet Muhammad to advocate and seek justice against an unfair divorce, resulting in divine revelation that enshrined women’s rights in the Quran. Similarly, Umm Salama, another of the Prophet’s wives, is recognised among other things, for her crucial advice during the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah, demonstrating respect for women’s wisdom in public affairs. In in Religion, Rabia al-Adawiya is one of the most famous mystics, whose profound spirituality and knowledge shaped the development of Islamic thought.
Likewise, African traditional history is filled with similarly strong female figures who commanded respect and led with authority. Yaa Asante-waa who led the Ashanti resistance against British colonisation; Queen Nzinga of Ndongo and Matamba, who waged wars against the Portuguese and strategically formed alliances to protect her people from slavery; or Amina of Zazzau and Nehanda Charwe Nyakasikana, a spiritual leader of the Shona people, who inspired a rebellion against British colonial rule in Zimbabwe, becoming a symbol of resistance even after her death. Like their Islamic counterparts, these women exemplifyed strength and assertiveness at the heart of African societies.
I don’t want to frame the issues in this article as a blame game when it comes to the gender imbalance we currently experience. I believe that much of it stems from the natural trajectory of human evolution, shaped by shifts through hunter-gatherer, agricultural, industrial, and technological revolutions that place the economic means of production firmly in their hands of men. However, I will say that men (particularly in our part of the world) have grossly abused and exploited the advantages these shifts have caused and, as the more privileged group, they must commit to addressing the severe disadvantages and harmful outcomes that result for women. I am certain that economic inequality is one of the biggest tools used to exploit and abuse women in The Gambia.
My work has shown me that too many women find themselves trapped in abusive relationships, workplaces and because they do not have the financial independence to make an independent decision without negative consequences one way or the other. They are often left with no choice but to endure, because the alternative is economic/career suicide or social stigmatization. The abuses of power are particularly evident in our institutions, where men in senior positions often harass female colleagues. Some do so subtly, without force, but in many cases, the harassment is becoming aggressive or violent. Such men use their positions to ask for sexual favors or treat professional women as less than their worth is capabilities. Even in one-off circumstances such as giving a lift/car ride, any form of assistance, or simply existing in shared spaces, too many men feel entitled to make unwanted advances, often in the form of inappropriate gestures and sometimes lewd remarks towards women.
These were my thoughts as I thought about the young woman in my car and her timidity. I realized that a large part of the SGBV prevalence in the Gambia is because of how we, as a society, teach our girls to be malleable, obedient, and answerable to men. It starts in home, continues in schools, and is reinforced in every corner of our society. Too often, we raise girls as little more than servants to the rest of the household and in my legal experience, I’ve seen many girls fall victim to rape and sexual abuse by male relative in extended family settings as a result.
As a country considered about 90% Muslims, whose ultimate role model in life is the Prophet Muhammed (SAW), there is a well-known narration where the Prophet was sitting with an audience, when his daughter Fatima came in. He stood up, kissed her, and made her sit in his place (a gesture of immense respect in Arab society). It was more than just an act of affection but a public declaration of the Prophet’s deep respect for his daughter, showing to the world for posterity that he recognised her worth, validated her presence, and elevated her status. As Muslims who obsess over things like the proper length of our trousers, it is a great shame if we don’t adopt this sunnah of respecting our daughters, holding them in the same high esteem as the Prophet held Fatima. We must fulfill their emotional and psychological needs for respect and validation so that they don’t grow up seeking validation from exploitative men outside, because they will already have the confidence and self-worth instilled in them from home.
In the end, addressing SGBV in The Gambia will require us to do more, it is not a CSO responsibility only, it must begin with how we raise and nurture boys and girls in our homes. It’s not just about laws or policies, it’s about how we engage with our religious and African traditional values. While so many are quick to associate the advocacy for women’s rights with “western ideology” it is in fact the western paradigm that supports the values we have now adopted that result in undermining the value and role of women in our societies. As Africans we lament a lot about our struggles and poverty, but I can assure you, dear reader, that it is values like the ones we hold so stubbornly to, about the subordinate and subservient role of women in our societies, that hold us back. We can, and must do better.
