When I grow Up I Want to be Pope

I don’t really want to be pope when I grow up, but I imagine there is a little girl somewhere in this world kneeling in a Roman Catholic Church praying she gets to be Pope one day, so this one is for that little girl. I’m not a very religious person. By religious of course I mean I don’t belong to a particular church. I’m not atheist either because I use Rollo Reese May’s definition of an atheist,  “call it confidence in the universe, trust in God, and belief in one’s fellow men or what not, the essence of religion is the belief that something matters- the presumption that life has meaning. So the religious person is one who has found meaning in life. And an atheist is one who cannot, or has not found it.” I have found my own meaning. I don’t think my issue is with religion, or God. Although I've been told there is a special place for me in hell, that’s not my issue. I think my issue is with institutions in general. I don’t like institutions, religious or not. I simply do not want to be institutionalized. 

Albert Einstein apparently said “Imagination is more important than Knowledge.” How true would you say this statement was? How important is innovation in any field? The thing with institutions is they slowly murder your ability to be imaginative. Like, Harper Lee said, “The book to read is not the one that thinks for you, but the one that forces you to think.” You know what the problem with being institutionalized is? The problem with being institutionalized is we have a bunch of rules dictating what you can and cannot do. You know what the sad part is, you have a billion people in the world walking around thinking they’re special. In the words of Dash Incredible, “saying everyone is special in their own way is just a nice way of saying no one is special.”

 Do you remember in primary? There was a stage where you learnt that little speech. “My name is Tshepo. I am 7 years old. When I grow up I want to be a Insert Teacher’s choice.” that sentence is the first step into being institutionalized  Fire-fighter, soldier, teacher, doctor all of these careers these teachers picked for you are that first step. Of course unless your parents are “baby boomers” they've also been institutionalized  No teacher picked I want to be “a broke poet travelling through Europe appreciating art eating French croissants, and bar-tending for a little bit of money.”

I mean my baby sister came home the other day and told me she wanted to be a doctor. She is seven. When I was her age I wanted to be a princess. So I’m thinking she is either really smart and has figured out her older sister is a flop, ( I've decided I want to write for a living and be an activist I’m typing this in the hope that it will save me the conversation with my mom. Hi mom.) and her parents need something to be proud of. Or I've been screwed from day one. Anyway back to institutionalization.

We live in a world where we’re fed mixed singles. On one hand you’re told you’re unique, be yourself, you’re special, on the other you’re fed mass everything. Mass education, Mass religion, Mass clothing, even be unique is becoming a mass message. So here we are humans, who are brought up in homes with individualistic believes then taken to institutions with mass believes. Imagine if my family had been catholic, I’ve spent my whole life with my parents telling me I can do anything I want, I can be anything I want. Imagine then that I came home from Sunday school and told my mom, hey mom guess what I've decided I want to be pope. I’m imagining my mother has to tell me why I can’t be pope, which from the research I've done stems down to me being a girl. I’m imagining telling your child they can’t be something because they’re not allowed to must be traumatizing.

So I don’t like institutions. I don’t like schools. I didn't like reception. I didn't like primary, middle school or high school. Unfortunately varsity has changed nothing. I like education. I like knowledge. I have an undying thirsting desire for knowledge. I’d rather read my text books at home than sit in class. But I would also rather sit on Google and find ways to prove those text books wrong. I’m probably just anti social but truth told I don’t think I even like the institution of a country or a government rather. I've read this blog post over so many times and feel it makes no sense. But let us see how this will work out. I have no reason for hating institutional-ism other than that I am also a sad result of it. I wish I wasn't  because maybe then I would believe my dad when he said I should be Botswana’s first female president. But unfortunately the institutions tell me I won’t be, because Botswana’s Political institutions do not foster female presidents or even politicians. So I’m sorry, I’m sorry to all the Catholic little girls that will never get to be pope.

Super Hero Stunts

Let’s talk feminism. I imagine you’ve been reading this blog for a while and have come to the conclusion that it’s written by a female for females. You’ve also probably also come to the conclusion that I’m “politicking my outrageous, wild, provocative shit” as one of my twitter followers @PRLBeekstar put it. You’ve seen the Feminism tag. If you know me personally, you’ve probably even heard me say “In my spare time (which is disappearing with every passing day) I run my feminist BlogSpot.” If you know me personally you probably know that I fight very few wars. One of which happens to be the war for women’s rights. This is how I view myself, Human before Woman, Woman before African, African before Writer, and Writer before poet. These are also the order of my wars. I fight for humanity, then women, followed by Africans, Writing then poetry. But you should also know that even though I’m very judgemental I accept people for whom and what they are. Which is what I feel a lot of women need to start doing.

This semester I’m taking a lot of classes that seem to continue to bring up the feminism issue. Which is weird right? I mean considering my majors. So I’m in class opening my mouth (because it just has a brain of its own) and having to encounter such strong opposition. On Monday(13 August) in my contemporary Africa class we were discussing how colonialism had a strong influence in cementing the patriarchal systems of Africa by making them law. For example the known custom that the first born male inherited everything was now a law. It further fuelled patriarchy in that it allowed men to be the bread winners in the family by sending them off to earn income in fields or mines, leaving the women as temporary head of households. So I being me of course decided to ask my lecturer if he thought that colonialism could be blamed for the degrading and disregard of women in today’s African society. I went on to further elaborate that by this I meant that did he think that before colonialism; before Africans had laid their eyes on the “white man” did he have any prior knowledge to them having lived as equals (women and men)? I wasn’t asking to be controversial. I was asking simply because I assumed he might share a writing or text he had read about Pre-colonial African History. I’ve read a few internet sites on how women were viewed as goddesses back in the day. But I was hoping for an academic source.  Either way my intentions aside, the class headed into a discussion and I was again misunderstood.

A student argued that our chief ideology still carried patriarchy as they were no women. I argued that when I said equality I didn’t mean we’re the same. I meant a mutual understanding and respect for each other. I went further on to say that people need to understand that when tribes went to war, chiefs led the troops. It only made sense to send a man. Another argued that the initiation that women’s clitorises were cut off to increase a man’s pleasure during sex. I argued that men had circumcisions performed at their versions of these ceremonies. Furthermore they were probably unaware of the pleasure nerves located in a clitoris. My favourite answer however was by a gentleman in my class from Uganda. His theory consisted of a thing I call the male ego (I intend to write a paper or thesis on this one day). According to him, “men probably lived with a mutual respect and harmony with their women. Maybe even viewed them as sacred and goddesses. However when slavery came, two things happened, men were stripped of their title as protector and they were beaten into submission. They reacted as any man who prides himself would; they looked for the next thing to assert power over, something weaker than them, Women. Maybe this was the answer I was looking for. Maybe it was an excuse I wanted to give African men to at least have a little faith in them. But I was content with this answer.

Then Today (15 August 2012) I again went of blasting. We were discussing recruitment methods in Personnel Management 306, when the topic of blood tests came up. Our lecturer mentioned that in certain sections of the working economy a pregnancy test is required. He went on to further mention that in the BDF for example, even two years after admission for training or a job getting pregnant is an offence. But doesn’t this question the labour laws that protect women from gender discrimination in the work force? Doesn’t it go against all my principles? As the voice of women in my class went on to get dramatic and touched over this. Sighing out loud and protesting to my lecture as if he’d made the policy, I fell into Human. Remember I’m human before female? My first objective is to preserve human life. My lecture required I give my opinion on this and my answer was,      

       “I’m a feminist. My definition of feminism of course is simply my belief that being a woman should not pose as an advantage or disadvantage anywhere in my life. But the fact of the matter is as a woman you have a responsibility to your child before yourself. If you’re going to work in a radioactive environment save us the law suits and use birth control. If you’re going to join the army don’t be dumb enough to think you’re going to war and not risk losing your child. Quite frankly women need to accept they’re women and stop being so dramatic.”

I didn’t tell you these two stories just so you know what I’m doing in my classes. I told them to you because they have one common denominator here even though they’re so completely different discussions. In the first story, my question is misunderstood to mean that I think women and men are equal, while in the second one the women show an urge to want to be equal. Women and Men the gender equality movement, I’m over that. I’ve BEEN over that. I’m not about that life. In fact I’ve never been about it. That’s not my war. That’s not what this blog is about. And if you thought it was I suggest you leave now because it is about to get ugly.

I refused to celebrate Woman’s day this year because I’m a woman every day of my life. I once asked a homosexual acquaintance why gays wore their sexuality so out there. He said “it’s a title we’ve been given, a label. We have to wear it proudly so it loses its power to hurt us.”  What does that mean? I’m not a transgender little boy hidden in a woman’s body, I am a woman. I don’t need to be told I’m a woman. I don’t need to be reminded or taught how to become a woman. I’m a woman that is it. I know where my responsibilities lie. I know what I’m supposed to do. I feel like a woman. Now these myths that women and men are equal screw it. Fuck it. I’m not about that. We have roles. We’re like lock and key. We’re an oiled machine that works well or at least worked well at one point. The truth is if we’re going to be honest as women it’s going to hurt.

I mean let’s put aside the jobs we have. Let’s put aside our egos. Let’s put aside this feminism concept. What do you want? What do you need? Is it protection? Maybe it is safety? Respect is an option. That’s what I want for all women; Respect. I don’t want to sit here and tell you a lie. Half truths like you can do anything a man can do when you put your mind to it. Truth is let’s stop with the super hero stunts. Let’s pack away the capes. You can’t go and be a soldier and be pregnant. That’s why you have options, Birth control, Condoms. I mean you even have abortions as an option. It’s your body. It’s your life. It’s your dreams. You make the choices, you make the decisions. You’re not a man. Truth is unless you’re planning on having a sex change you probably will never be. It’s fine. It really is. You’re a woman. That’s fine as well. Accept it. You’re not going to be equal to a man; neither will you be inferior or superior. You’re one with him, a team. You’re a human before a woman. All you need is respect.

Slut Walks

I picked up on this topic a little too late, perhaps a lot too late. But I however felt the need to inform you guys, or rather discuss the wave of Slut Walks that hit Canada and other countries in the beginning of 2011 (told you I was late). So what are slut walks? I’m absolutely sure that the African media just did not give this enough coverage for all of you to be aware of it.  And I am an African blogger.

The Slut Walks started in Canada. They are a protest against the legal system, as well as society’s concept of what a proper lady should be. They consist of women all over the world taking to the streets dressed as sluts. The protest was triggered when a detective (not even a rapist) defended a rapists saying that some women were dressed as sluts so he was not surprised that they were raped. This wasn’t a private statement. This was public at a press conference.

Let’s start with the concept of the word Slut. It’s a dirty word isn’t it, nasty. I’m certain it tastes bitter in your mouth. The word slut belongs amongst the other derogatory words used to describe a woman. I googled the word slut: a woman who is promiscuous, a person who lacks ability to exercise sexual restraint, a saucy girl (really?), a prostitute, a girl that is provocative in her dressing and behaviour. The list is endless. The saucy one really surprised me though. Personally I’m very conservative. I flinch a bit when I see butt cracks, or cleavages or thighs.  My friends are annoyed by my obsessive need to cover up their bras, or pull up their pants. But I wouldn’t call them sluts. I wouldn’t call any woman dressed provocatively a slut.

For a man to rape a woman, then stand in court and have his lawyer argue that she was dressed as a “slut”, absolutely disgusts me. Really? She wore a short skirt so you raped her? You shoved her in a bush, stripped her naked, and raped her. You didn’t care that she cried and screamed and kicked. You just raped her. You took her gift and made it yours, stole her right to pick when and how. And then you stand there and call her a slut. Such men are pathetic. They really are, but even more pathetic is the “justice” system that allows these men to use that ridiculous excuse.  

I was going to give you facts. I was going to write to inform. This blog post was me telling a story. It was supposed to be me evaluating the effects that the slut walks have on the systems, on women. But I can’t. I’m too emotional a creature for that. I got angry as I did my research I got upset. So I can’t be objective. I would ask you to forgive me but the reason you read my blog is because I’m opinionated and emotional. So I have to call out the men that abuse and rape women. I have to tell you guys that they are not men they are creatures. But they are not the danger to our society. They aren’t. Not even in the tiniest bit. The danger to our society is the men and women who are friends with these creatures. The ones that do nothing; that defends them like that detective in Canada. Or even me.

Me? Yes even I have played a role in women abuse. I have a story to tell you guys. About a boy, I don’t know if I can say names or the whole truth. I want to. I want to post his picture here so I can protect all the girls in Botswana from him. But it would be termed cyber bullying or defamation of character. Anyway, back to my story. I know a boy who hits girls. He hits his girlfriends. I don’t associate with him. I cut all ties with him when I realised how abusive he is. But I did the worst thing after that. I kept quiet. Even when one of my friends started dating him I kept quiet. I thought she would think I was bitter. Like most girls in Botswana would. But that is no excuse I kept quiet and he abused her for 11months, almost a year. I knew nothing about it then of course.

Silence is the death of all women out there. Saying something to my friend wouldn’t have put him in jail but it would have saved her 11months of pain. That is what speaking out is about. His friends know he is abusive. They say nothing, they laugh when he cracks jokes about “disciplining women”. They are cowards when he is pulling her by her hair outside BnB. People like this are what is wrong with our society. People like me, who blog about him without saying his name cause they are scared of petty laws. We are the problem here because we have the power to stop these monsters. Yet we stand on the side lines and say “she was dressed like a slut.” Or “she aggravated him”. Or even worse we say nothing at all. We give them power. We supply the victims.

So I beg you don’t stay silent. Warn your friends. Defend them. Don’t be a coward like me. Because it sucks to hear your friend’s horror stories and know you could have saved them. You can’t help the monsters but you can help the victims, by saying something. So thank you to the women who participated in the slut walks and said something.

In the words of Mam’Ruby of generations, “you could be naked, and no man has the right to touch you”.