Hey Ghana! Treat the Ladies Right!

One of the biggest controversies that faced me before coming to the African Continent was its treatment of the woman. Many of my progressive female colleagues (or chick friends, as they hate to be called) would applaud me for retracing my roots, but also slam me for not speaking on the fact that many African societies still oppress their women. Well this has been no easy task because it’s very hard for me to speak against Africa. I favor her more than any other continent. Africa has been the face of defiance to the western political-economic machine for the past 50 years. Who wouldn’t shed a tear of pride and honor for an underdog land with countless underdog nations who converged and overcame adversity from 1960 (dubbed Africa’s year by the U.N.) to as late as 1994 (the end of Apartheid in the wake of Mandela presidency)? Africa is like the living, breathing Rocky movie of world politics and this is why I favor her.

But, then again, my female colleagues are right in many respects. I’ve only been in this nation little over a month and I can already see the clear discrimination women face in law, institution and in custom. I remember being in class this past Tuesday, a class called the “Sociology of the Family.” It was only a hand full of men in the class, surrounded by a troop of intelligent and confident women. We were discussing the issue of Gender roles and societal constructs in this particular session. I remember a man in the class made a comment saying that he didn’t understand why women wanted to play football (or Soccer) because that is a “masculine” thing to do. In his opinion, women were born docile and weak, and on the other hand men were born strong and aggressive. He made this sweeping generalization with such confidence and zeal, as if it were a no-brainer. At that moment a female student said in a strong voice “I do not agree; men and women are socialized to play roles that are set and facilitated by our society...” The sister went on to cite passages from the reading to validate her claim, all while the man was laughing to his friends and blowing off her every word.

I saw this, again and again. Ghanaian men having a say in everything: from politics, to the economy, to society, but not allowing their queens to speak. This was the Africa I could no longer hide from, the Africa I was afraid of. Ghana to me is a great representation of progress in developing nations, the University of Ghana is host to many great minds, and even the professor of the course was a female. But with all its progress it is still a developing nation, because, I think, it has yet to give women their right to develop.

Many women in Ghana are still illiterate and still are encouraged to seek menial labor, such as trading or homemaking, instead of building high-power careers for themselves. Even the traditional systems of family in Ghana, both Matrilineal and Patrilineal only benefit the male next to kin if the Husband dies, leaving the women without property, financial support or even a place to live. And though there have been laws made on the books to ensure the protection of women from domestic violence and disenfranchisement since the 1980’s, namely the Intestate Succession Law of 1985, women have found it increasingly difficult to access any assistance.

Now in 1957 Ghana made their pitch for independence on the premise that they deserved FREEDOM and JUSTICE from an oppressive British colonial empire, and if anybody is aware of Ghanaian history they wouldn’t disagree with that pitch. But coming from an experience as hellish as the one Ghana had gone through, they need to bear to witness and pay credence to the hell that they are giving their women. John Hendrik Clark once said, “If your revolution doesn’t include the force of the woman, then your struggle isn’t worth the fight” and I believe that. If Ghana wants to be the beacon of modernity and change in Africa, they need to start allowing their queens to shine.

So with all of these sentiments boiling inside of me, as I sat thinking in desk, I glanced over to the young lady, raised my hand high and said “I absolutely agree with that sister.” In the end, I think I did my chick friends proud.


miles