Me and Madame Touré
Every single woman, myself included, was wearing an outfit made out of the exact same material: a blue cotton that had “La Journée Panafricane des Femmes” stamped all over it. Malians don’t get t-shirts made for special occasions. Instead, they get material dyed with the emblem or message they want circulated.
Trying to sneak into the picture with unknown woman (left), Oule (center, who makes me baobab juice) and Assitan (president of the women's groups in San, Mali)
We frequently get material dyed with malaria messages printed on it for our “Voices for a Malaria-Free Future” campaigns. Politicians will use the same approach at election times, and give out material with their name and face stamped all over. Claudia, my boss, recently gave me a few yards of “Obama” material. There’s still a lot of Obama hype out here.
There were 2 piece outfits, dresses, and head wraps all in this blue material, with every kind of detailed finish you can imagine. The trick is to try to get the most fashionable outfit made. The auditorium was filled to the brim with women in their new blue “robes" and "jupes”/dresses and skirts, checking out other women's dresses and skirts, already making plans for the next outfit for the next event. It got so packed that many women had to sit in the aisles and stand up in the back. We were a blue sea of estrogen.
Rolling deep with my crew after the event.
At the ceremony, each of the head honchos of Mali’s women’s groups gave speeches. In-between these speeches, a traditional Malian band played live music. There was even music during speeches, performed by individual women in the crowd who felt so moved by what their peers were saying that they’d stand up and belt out a few measures of “thanks” to their own tunes.
One woman in particular, who was sitting in the seat directly in front of me, was really feeling her inner Femme Panafricaine and got up to interject her vocals during almost every speech. When they were handing out awards for the most pro-active women and women’s groups, she stood up and sang a long segment about how we should not forget the individuals who fought for Malian women’s rights in the past, but who are now dead. They too should be honored with awards, if not only with her song of praise. Almost touching.
Apparently this same singer’s friend, who happened not to be at the ceremony, was then announced as an award recipient. Our singer quickly got on her cell phone to call the friend, and was talking so very loudly in congrats that she interrupted the entire procession of awards and was asked to “shush” a number of times. Post phone dialogue, she stood up once more to sing about how her friend expressed her thanks to everyone for the award and wished she could be there and congratulations to all of the other winners and...not very touching. Too bad there was not an award for most inopportune singer or most annoying crowd participant.
It finally came time for Madame le Président’s speech. Completely distracted by her pink accents, her outfit being the most flamboyant of the entire crowd, I only caught the final message of her speech. Mali, and thus the women of Mali, have been independent for fifty years now (Mali's been celebrating its 50th anniversary all 2010). In the next fifty years, women must continue to ask themselves the important question of what they can do next to ensure the health and safety of their African sisters.
Waking up at 6:30AM on a Saturday for the event took a lot out of me, so the rest of the Journée Panafricane des Femmes was spent lazing around the house with another femme, Melanie. She is the live-in nanny to Claudia’s two boys, and like me is a foreigner to Mali -- she hails from Côte d’Ivoire.
Girl time at the house
We spent a few hours watching horrible French comedies on T.V., aired in worse quality than Louisiana Public Broadcasting, then got to talking. We’ve spent the last two weeks together, alone in Claudia’s house while her family is on vacation, but I had yet to really get to know her. As is the girl way, I started with what seemed like a perfect, and easy, first topic of conversation: boys.
At 22 years old, Melanie has a 36 year old boyfriend in Abdijian, Côte d’Ivoire, whom she cannot marry because she does not have enough money or education. Not so easy after all. She’s been working with Claudia’s family for the past year to save up, and when the family goes on vacation during the summer, Melanie has been taking computer classes. With time, she’s hoping to accrue enough savings and class credits that her boyfriend’s parents will approve their marriage.
When I asked her if her parents could afford to support her marriage, wondering if she and her potential husband could just pay her parents back with time, she explained that her father had passed away. Being already so deep in her history, I asked why.
She continued: he did not just pass away. During the civil war in Côte d’Ivoire, her father was murdered in front of she, her mother, sister, and brother. After the deed, the rebel fighters said that if they saw any of them crying, the family too would be stabbed and killed.
Melanie’s father was murdered in front of her eyes, and she was not allowed to react.
Now here she is years later, without a father, unable to marry the man she loves because of consequence. She’s living the life of a foreigner, away from her remaining family members and support system, to earn money in a job where she is required to care for, nurture, and help raise two boys who are not her own.
She is only able to visit her proper family at Christmas, and is unable to call them often because of the costs. I offered for her to use my Skype account to call home, and she got out her cell phone to look up a number.
When she handed me her phone, I saw that the name of the person she was calling was saved in her contacts as “ma jumelle”/”my twin.” Not only is she away from her family, she is a country away from her twin! They started talking and giggling on the phone, and a few minutes later she said bye to “Melanie.” Twins with the same name, at that!
I finally asked Melanie if Claudia, who she works for, knew anything about her past or her family history. Claudia is the ultimate mother figure, always offering to take care of everyone around her, and loves giving advice and guidance. I knew if anyone could counsel Melanie through her tough times away from home and in dealing with her present situation with her boyfriend, it would be Claudia.
Apparently she hadn’t shared the information with anyone in Mali; no one had yet to ask.
Melanie keeps to herself, and despite her struggles, is a generally content person. I can see how it would be easy to let her be, and not inquire about who or how she really is, as I had the past two weeks.
Madame le President’s message was to ask ourselves the question of how we can ensure the health and safety of our African sisters. And yet what I've learned on this Panafricain Day of Women is the importance of asking this same vital question to our sisters themselves. The simple act of asking questions can help keep these women feeling healthy, safe, and happy.
Melanie
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