The mayor of Yeumble suggested I meet one of their groups at the neighborhood’s youth center called AVISES, which means “aware” in French. This is a group of girls from 13 to 21. These young women and teenagers started their own association. I was curious to meet them as most women groups I know often attract women of 35 and above. And upon my arrival at the youth center, I met Aichatou, the 18 year-old leader of AVISES. She sat with me in a shaded corner of the director’s office. Her long braided hair was tied on the left side of her head and on top she was wearing a white cap. Her crocheted white t-shirt was falling to the right, leaving a shoulder bare. With her pink pants and her white tennis shoes, nothing was traditional about her apparel; she would have fitted perfectly in a hip hop music video. And when I asked her about the mission of AVISES, almost on a steady rap rhythm, her brown eyes looking straight into mine, she told me, her words coming to me loudly, clearly, like a bullet:
“We are young women fighting against domestic violence, psychological violence, sexual violence, the violence of the words, the violence that hurts our mothers, and hurts us. We are AVISES, and we are young women involved in their communities, to change our future. We know that when you educate a woman you educate a generation, a community.”
She wanted to know about my research, and I told her all about it, and she found it interesting. Unfortunately, I could not interview them for my sample because the research ethics board in the US requires that I interview only women above 18, otherwise, I need to go and get consent from their parents, which is very difficult. She said her friends and her wanted to learn more about family planning and contraception, and invited me to talk about it the following Wednesday at their meeting. I agreed.
The next Wednesday I came to the youth center at the end of a humid afternoon, and walked between the brown walls, along some condemned rooms, and finally entered in one where gathered next to sewing machines and desks about 30 young women dressed finely for the occasion were waiting for me. Some I could tell were also wearing the traditional wrapped clothes from Mauritania, like many of their compatriots; they must have immigrated to Dakar’s suburbs. I came with a nurse, I thought she may be able to provide important answers to questions, if I did not know, or direct to community resources I may not know about. They followed a strict agenda, opening the meeting with a prayer, with their eyes closed and palms toward the sky, they asked Allah to support their efforts to change their communities, and help the women of Yeumble. At the beginning of the meeting they talked about the floods coming to Yeumble once again with the rainy season, and the efforts of AVISES to help the families that will be affected by these inevitable catastrophes. They talked about their plans to take care of the beggar children, and teach them during their summer holidays at the youth center. Then they introduced me and the nurse, and the moment came when I took off my researcher hat, and became Laurence again, a young woman like them, just there to talk woman to woman.
Selfishly, I hoped no man would be there on that day, to make sure my AVISES would feel free to share worries, ask questions. But the director of the youth center, a young man, insisted to stay. I led an awareness meeting, talking about STDs, methods of contraception, and family planning. I said some information will be important now, other will be as they become older, perhaps for their mothers, but many of the young women are also married, and these may be questions they are thinking about. In any case, the AVISES asked many questions, for the first time they were having a sexual education class. They talked about myths and rumors, and the round table was a success. Aichatou was taking notes, the director was keeping quiet. The meeting was coming to an end after more than 2 hours, and everyone prayed Allah to stay with them for the following week. I could hear the chairs moving, the girls laughing and chatting, getting ready to go home. And at this moment, the director turned towards me and said:
“Here in Yeumble, there has been a worrisome number of rapes happening in the community. And AVISES will do something about it. I planned a working group next week so the girls can talk about their responsibility in these rapes and about how they are causing them”. At this moment, the girls started exiting the room, through the door between the director and I. And I lost sight of him. I stopped breathing for a moment.
Excuse-me? I did not hear that…
Everyone had exited when I found the words again to reply. But everyone was gone. Excuse-me? You will sit the girls down and with a flashlight in their eyes, ask them how they cause the rapes? I know what the answer will be: We concluded that the girls should dress more modestly. And the women in this room were dressed very modestly for the most part. Or, pushed down the throat of one of the women, she will have to declare publically: “we concluded that us women, should stay at home. For our safety…” And with such conclusions, how will AVISES continue to exist? Young women will not be allowed to gather and change their communities, and feel alive, and feel like they are contributing. I am part of AVISES from close and afar, I want to change my community too.
Or maybe, the conclusion of this workshop imposed on them will be: “We should have this meeting with the men of the community…” I hope Aichatou that’s what you will tell me next time we talk.
You feel a wave of change, and then comes a reef, unexpected, still there, underwater, breaking the wave and causing turmoil. But eventually, this wave will surmount it.
{ 0 comments }
