(Image courtesy of Francesco Ungaro via Unsplash)
(Image courtesy of Francesco Ungaro via Unsplash)

Voices From The Valley Are Rising

Writer’s note: This story is a cocktail of my own lived experience, of observations that spanned my community outreach work in East Africa from 1988 until now. I have seen the socioeconomic, political, cultural and traditional injustices against girls, women, and vulnerable children evolve over decades, and I work to encourage positive social change. Here, I speak from the heart.

“It’s time to go to school, Lucy,” a loud voice shouted. It was her mother, Mrs. Odhiambo, who realized that her daughter would be late for school. “The sun has risen and you’re still snoring. You want to be a lazy girl?” she chided. 

               Lucy was a beautiful and active girl whose cheerfulness spread like a bush fire. She was the only girl in her family of six boys and the last born. She loved playing many games and sports like rope skipping, netball, hide and seek, and juggling. She enjoyed singing and dancing, too, with an unexplainable passion.

               Her mother was so proud of her, she saw herself in Lucy. She was her mirror that always made a reflection of her childhood. “I must have been as charming, chocolate-skinned, and lively as my princess” she uncontrollably thought as she beamed with a warm smile on her face.

                Her five sons, Henry (16), Peter (14), Mike (13), Arnold (11) and Jack (9) were tall, strong and energetic boys. Physically, they were simply the replica of Mr. Odhiambo, their father. They all loved to play football and athletics. The oldest two were on their school team, with Henry playing football and javelin, and Peter, their school champion, in the 1,500m race category.

                Their unquenchable love for sports must have been both genetic and modeled: Mr. Odhiambo just like his father too, was a wrestling champion in his village. He had set the unbreakable record for being the youngest and undisputed champion at the tender age of 18.

(Image courtesy of Edu González via Unsplash)
(Image courtesy of Edu González via Unsplash)

               He was nicknamed Lyech (the Elephant) for his skills and confidence in the wrestling game and how he provoked and mocked his opponents in an entertaining manner before throwing them disrespectfully to the bare ground as though gravity didn’t exist. His muscular 6’9” body made him indeed a terrifying nightmare for his opponents. He was known for taking no prisoners.

               Mr. Odhiambo was a mechanic at a motor garage far from his home. He would often come back home once or twice a month to check on his family whenever he could. The rest of the days he would sleep at the garage with his workmates who couldn’t commute to and fro their homes daily. It was economically not viable for him to incur transport costs every day vis-a-vis his wages. His job was enough to provide the basic needs for his family and a meager savings for any eventuality.

                He was highly respected by both his bosses and workmates at the garage for his calmness and patience with almost everyone, elephant again. He wouldn’t complain too much to his bosses like his mates did, nor would he be seen at the heart of any chaos or job-related indiscipline. He expressed passion for his job and always handled customers with a warm smile that was contagious. He was a born leader.

                 Mr. Odhiambo wanted to educate his children such that they wouldn’t have to use a lot of their muscles and might to earn a better life. His biggest wish was that his sons would become successful in life and his daughter, Lucy, get a good husband who would take good care of her. He didn’t have a dream bigger than that, or perhaps he wanted to be realistic rather than a dreamer. That was him, preserved, reserved and conservative.

                He had been raised by a very strict father who was known for being a disciplinarian, which explains the way Mr. Odhiambo handles his own children. His father was a farmer but couldn’t give the best education to his 12 children due to financial difficulties. 

Daughters

                 Many of grandfather’s daughters were married off to men before they became of consent age and, most likely, against their own will. What would they do anyway? It was a cultural practice for your paternal auntie to get you a man to marry you. A man to marry you once you attained the age range of 14 -18 years, and mostly when your father stopped paying for your school fees. This was the age bracket where most girls dropped out of school.

                 They were largely taken to school to grow and keep them a bit occupied under the guise of education. They would become mothers while they were still children; green and innocent, they would be vulnerable, and at the full mercy of their husbands.

                 This practice had been the norm for generations and perceived to be normal and acceptable by the Council of Elders who were the chief custodians of culture and tradition. Girls were simply for ‘breeding’ purposes, just like the cows and goats on the farms.

                  The Council was constituted of men, as women weren’t part of any forum to discuss issues that affected society, even for issues that had a direct effect on them. Women were perceived to have no voice and of too low social value to be involved in the decision making process. They were only told the outcomes of the meetings and given the decisions or rules to abide by without any room for questions or objections. Every outcome and decision was simply read-only for the women.

                 The consequences of any form of disobedience would be grave. Women were far less than the males in all aspects, and no woman complained about it; at least, not publicly. Women, too, regarded any act of complaining as a betrayal of culture, and proof of a poor upbringing by their parents. Which woman was ready and willing to risk salvation for her very own and oppressed sisters by belling the cat? I guess, not one of them at the time.

(Image courtesy of Keesha’s Kitchen via Unsplash)
(Image courtesy of Keesha’s Kitchen via Unsplash)

                 Lucy’s mother was such a caring and loving mother. She wanted to see her family happy and healthy. She loved cooking delicious meals. Smoked fish with smashed groundnuts was her favorite dish, served with brown ughali (millet mash) or sweet potatoes. The provocative aroma from her kitchen always made her neighbors uneasy as it would stimulate their salivary glands and arouse their appetite beyond a level they could tame.

Educating the girl-child

                  Her beauty and charisma combined for an adorable cocktail admired by many. She hadn’t gone far with education even though she was so bright and active at school. Her late father, Mr. Amaliki didn’t believe in educating the girl-child. He once stated to his friend Ojok, who had invited him to attend his daughter’s graduation ceremony, that, “You’ve wasted money on your daughter. Her husband would benefit from her education much more than your own family. What if she becomes a housewife after all the resources you’ve invested in her? You should have saved that money for your boys’ dowry or bought more farms.”

                  Mr. Ojok looked at him with a squint, wiped his mouth, and responded, “Times have changed my friend and you should know that no matter what happens, she will always remain my beloved daughter. She deserves all my love and support. She will be a mother, and without education, what sort of mother will she be? My motive is not to benefit from her. No, not at all. I also want to see my daughters just like my sons, be resourceful and productive in society. I would like them to be happy and free like a flying eagle in the deep blue skies. How will our communities grow and develop if we don’t educate our daughters? Think about it, Mr. Amaliki.”

                  Mrs. Odhiambo had this incurable pain of not attaining a secondary school certificate. She had stopped learning in primary school, and remembers the worst day in her life like it was yesterday. The day her father broke the bad news to her that she wouldn’t be progressing with her studies. He gave her no reason, he felt that he wasn’t accountable to his own child, especially his daughter. She cried, and her mother wept like she had lost a loved one. She hugged her daughter as they helplessly cried together. The warmth from each other comforted them both as they felt alone in their world of pain and despair.

                   The pain felt so fresh and deep that it made her bleed in her heart still. She kept wondering why her father wouldn’t see her worth as his daughter. Her inner voice never got weary of asking the most painful rhetoric questions about her father’s decision. Her level of self-esteem and confidence was immensely eroded, so she never wished to see Lucy ever go through a similar horrid experience. She vowed deep in her soul to give everything to protect her children to the last drop of her blood. 

The silver award

(Image courtesy of Pineapple Supply Co. via Pexels)
(Image courtesy of Pineapple Supply Co. via Pexels)

                    One of the most beautiful stars during her school days was winning the mathematics competition in primary six. She went to the district to represent her school and won a silver award. She was welcomed jubilantly by her school and given many presents by their head teacher, mathematics teacher, and the female teachers. The girls were happier about the milestone achievement than the boys. It wasn’t a common thing for the girls to outperform boys, especially in mathematics and science subjects. She had broken the jinx.

                    Her mother carried her up as she ululated and sang loudly with joy praising her golden daughter, her beautiful Princess. She ordered her siblings to slaughter the red chicken and have it prepared for the silver medalist. Her mother cooked it like a five-star royal chef, while Lucy sat next to her embracing the love and enjoying all the attention and praises.

                     They would both happily stare at each other as she raised her hands up in the air to express her gratitude to the almighty God for blessing her with such a wonderful daughter. This was an immortal and an unforgettable moment in her life that would last for eternity. She saw her dream of becoming an engineer within reach. Her hopes and faith in herself had risen a record high.

                     Her achievement had inspired many other young girls and women. She had redefined the perception of the girl-child and women in the eyes of boys and men. Many parents started to believe that what their sons could do, their daughters could also do, if not better. Parents had raised their daughters in a way that made them always feel inferior and less confident. They weren’t allowed to be as free as their brothers. They would grow up being cared for and had to learn to live that way because it seemed to be the only option they had.

                    Her silver award, her victory, sparked a number of debates, and many acts of violence were reported. Men who felt that their long cultural definition of women and girls was facing extinction, with the new normal bravely knocking on their doors, turned physical in retaliation.

                  She may have been denied an opportunity to progress with her studies, but even with her primary school education, she managed to write boldly her name on the walls of history. This made her mother walk proudly and speak about her daughter in a way that glowed with  contented glee. 

Sons

                  Mrs. Odhiambo wanted to groom her sons  to have respect for girls and women. One day, her son Arnold beat their neighbor’s daughter. She sat him down and told him why it was wrong for him to use violence to resolve disputes. 

                 “It is a sign of weakness for a man to raise his hand on a woman.”

                  “Now, I want you to go and apologize to her and promise me that you will never ever do it again,” she scolded. She called the girl, and Arnold apologized to her, though he felt it was unusual for a boy to treat a girl the way his mother wanted. Arnold, just like his peers, grew up seeing their fathers beat up their mothers. They felt that as boys they are more important than their sisters. They believed that boys should be above girls, and that girls should never oppose them whether they are right or wrong. 

                  This perception had sunk so deep into them that changing the status quo would be a war that would come at a high cost with many casualties. As a cat will not welcome the bell. 

(Image courtesy of Wiljosan Au via Pexels)
(Image courtesy of Wiljosan Au via Pexels)
Thank you to Yosef Baskin for his inspired edits on the piece.

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Yuvoice uplifts diverse voices around the world. We focus on perspectives of real people living through history and how Planet Earth looks through their eyes. We never necessarily endorse, promote, or agree with the pieces we publish. We want to showcase viewpoints of all types. Please check out our Statement of Global Progress  for further information on our stance. And if you’ve enjoyed this piece, please drop a comment and support the author!

 

Kayondo Samuel has seen injustices against women and children in East Africa evolve over decades. He served as the OVC (Orphans and Other AVulnerable Children) Project Coordinator with CHAIN Uganda, and also founded Care Old Age and Child Foundation. 

 

Samuel believes that there’s more than enough for everybody in this world and that humans must help the vulnerable and victims of injustice to better the world for all.

 

He studied business computing and management and is a seasoned traveler,  but his self-professed calling is social work and creative writing.

 

7 Comments

  • Sxoxi

    This is so touching and yet beautifully drafted and woven. Good story that exposes injustices the African girl and woman still face even in modern times!
    Women’s movements need to involve men in the fight to free girls and women.

    • Sarah Nabukenya

      It’s absurd to see the girl child and women still living in oppression and with equity still out of reach to many. We aren’t asking for favours but to be treated with both respect and dignity. God created us all in His image and we all deserve to be loved and cherished. Rise, rise the girl child and women!

  • Namukhuta Commy

    Real and hurtful. What a story! I didn’t want it to end and yet it made me so emotional at the same time. A lot has to be done. I have witnessed somenof the abuses in this story happen to girls and women even in my own family back in the village. Too bad!

  • Henry Luguza

    I have loved and enjoyed the story though it made me feel sad. Let’s treat our daughters and wives better and let them enjoy their rights and freedoms. What happened next? Does this story continue? What happened to Lucy and her Mother?

  • Sarah Nabukenya

    I love the descriptive technique and writing style. Simple and yet holding a reader with an adhesion force. Touching, I should say. I would like to know how it all ended.

  • Sarah Nabukenya

    I am touched, what a story! Men need to respect and show love to us girls and women regardless of the vulnerabilities we may have. Does this story end here? How I wish you write more and we know what happened to the girls and women in that community.

  • Asiimwe

    Mmmmm…worth reading with a lot of information. Can you publish more parts please? This story should end with victory and with Mrs. Odhiambo and Lucy empowered. Next part!

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