International Women’s Day

Two years ago, I was in Sagbiebou pushing for the village’s first International Women’s Day (IWD) celebration. The three women and three students on my committee agreed we should have a soccer tournament, female middle school students versus sewing apprentices. We would have a sensibilisation, an information session, beforehand. Of course, it started three hours late, only women came to the discussion part (the rest of the village showed up to watch the game) and when the chief’s representative spoke, he said, “I’m happy to be here for this World Food Day, I mean…”

Yesterday, I got to participate in another IWD event, one where participants fully understood what they were doing there. Kentucky Health Justice Network organized a panel discussion and photography exhibit (featuring these photos by yours truly, as well as Mari Mujica’s black and white mother-daughter portraits). The panel discussion focused on reproductive justice in different parts of the world, with panel members representing Mexico, Italy, Malawi and Togo (that was me — with the disclaimer that I only spent two years there and that I spoke only from my experience). We talked about the three pillars of reproductive justice:

The right to have children

The right to NOT have children and

The right to parent the children we have now

I initially turned down the invitation to be on this panel, as I didn’t know what to say, but more because public speaking makes me very nervous (that is another post). Then I decided to quit being a chicken and do it. I’m glad I did, even though I had a surprising reaction at the mic.

First, we talked about the right to have children. For me, this is not a discussion for Togolese women. It’s a man’s right to have children, but if his wife is tired of having babies, well, too bad. Traditionally, the more children you have, the better, although I believe people are slowly beginning to accept the idea of having a few children you can raise well (at least in the middle class).

Next up, the right to not have children. This is where the surprise came in. I talked about the legality of abortion in Togo (if the mother’s health is in danger, and in cases of rape, incest or fetal impairment), how difficult it is to prove any of those things, and the lack of information not only on access, but even on biology. Then I tried to give a very brief summary of the Zenabou story (you can read that here, if you don’t know what I’m talking about), and – here’s the surprise – I started crying. In front of 45 people, mostly strangers, I had a minor breakdown. I don’t know if it was nerves, fatigue or just leftover emotions, but all of a sudden I was Tracy Morgan on Fresh Air, taking a moment to get it together. I managed to stumble through information on PSI’s reproductive health education campaign in Togo (service providers visit under-served villages to provide free IUD and implant insertion, but there are problems with follow-up and husbands who weren’t consulted) before handing off the mic.

Finally, we discussed the right to parent. I said something about families raising relatives’ children when parents can’t take care of all the kids. In the case of divorce, fathers — especially in the Muslim north — usually get custody of children, something used to coerce wives to stay in a relationship (thanks to Sarah for confirming that information). Other than that, I had nothing to contribute. There’s no Child Protection Service answering reports of child neglect or abuse – at least not in Sagbiebou. If anything, the chief might intervene.

Most of the information I gathered for this presentation was not new to me, although I heard some new horrific stories (husband trying to push wife’s implant out of her arm, husband beating wife after learning she’d been getting Depo Provera shots) — and at least one uplifting story (that wife’s nurse had been keeping women’s medical cards at the clinic to help protect their information and prevent incidents like that). The other women on the panel shared very personal stories, and I’m grateful I got to share a stage with three strong, insightful women (who were actually FROM the countries they represented). It’s not easy to talk about abortion, abuse or loss in front of an audience, but I’m glad these women chose to do so. And I’m grateful there are people willing to listen to these stories.

I don’t know how to tie this up without sounding sappy and waxing about change and one day reaching equality. It’s certainly a goal.

Happy International Women’s Day.