4 more steps a man should take before divorcing his wife
on Notes from Quite Far (Cameroon), 13/Jul/2010 16:29, 34 days ago
Tell her what she’s done wrongGive her another chance - explain to her how she should behaveIf she does it again, hit her– but only with a leather strap, no sticksIf she does it a third time, then you can divorce herI heard this at the Women’s Empowerment conference on Friday. It was an argument put forward in support of women (yes “support”), condemning men who divorce their wives over nothing and explaining the proper procedure.I’m taking it out of context for effect, which is a bit unfair. But even in context I was somewhat taken aback. While the man in question was giving this explanation, I felt all eyes turn on me (the only non-Cameroonian in the room) as if all the participants were thinking as one : “What must shebe making of all this?”Domestic violence is not legal but it’s still common. Most men won’t talk to me honestly about it because they know that white people tend to find domestic abuse shocking. Of the men I know well enough to speak frankly with, some condemn violence towards women, but others see it as necessary in order to keep them in line.The legal age for marriage here is 18 for men and 15 for women, although often girls are married off younger than this, and to men quite a lot older. There is a high incidence of medical complications that arise when girls have babies before their body has fully developed. And often women (and girls) have no medical assistance before, during, or after giving birth. This might be down to lack of money, but often it is because the woman is ashamed to see a male doctor, or indeed because her husband forbids her from doing so. And there aren’t an awful lot of women doctors to go around, since so many girls don’t even make it to the end of primary school, let alone university. (What’s the point in spending money educating your daughter? She’s only ever going to get married, have kids and keep house.) Even those girls that are inschool are expected to do chores at home while boys do their homework and play out.These were just a few of the issues that came up at Saturday’s seminar. Others included female circumcision, disproportionately high HIV rates among women (about twice as many women as men are infected), men who refuse to wear condoms, women who are prisoners in their homes, the inequality between the first wife and the other wives in polygamous marriages,inequality between husband and wife/wives in all marriages, inequality between boys and girls in the classroom, the misinterpretation of religion to justify sexual inequality, men-only mosques, rape (and whether raping your wife is really rape)… Frankly the list goes on.I think it’s fair to say that Cameroonian women have it pretty tough.So, were any solutions found to this vast array of problems? Well: awareness-raising, engaging local chiefs, persuading them to set an example in their own marriages, asking the imams to preach about fair treatment of women in the mosques. All good ideas. But my favourite suggestion came from a man who felt that women should“just stop victimising themselves”. Get out there, grow a pair (figuratively of course) and stop whining. Simple, eh? I wonder why they didn’t think of that before?I’ve always been shy of the word “feminist”. It’s a loaded term. But on Friday I heard comments like “I’m not feminist or anything, but…” and “Well the problem comes when women get ideas and start behaving like feminists”. It’s the element of conflict and antagonism that peopledon’t like, and understandably so. But I wonder whether conflict isn’t sometimes necessary. I wonder whether progress is even possible without a bit of a fight. And I wonder whether the fact that we’re all so afraid of the f-word might be a problem in itself. So I think I’ll be a feminist when I get home. And it’s not really my place to say, but secretly, between you and me, I hope all the women here do start “getting ideas” and “behaving like feminists”.And I hope it happens in my lifetime. Wherever I am I’ll have a drink in their honour. (I’ll pay for it myself, obviously…)