This year I did not attend WWEC, Women’s Wellness and
Empowerment Conference. It fell around the same time as International Women’s
Day, for which some of the ladies I work with and I wanted to do something
special here in Badou. We began talking about what we wanted to do back in
January. We wanted to prepare sketches, hold a parade, and maybe a small picnic
amongst a few. Simply, March 8 would be to celebrate what women do for their
community, their family and how that community should, in turn, show their
appreciation. Leading up to it, a few of us distributed ‘envelopes’ to
authorities, local NGOs, and businesses. More than just inviting them to our event,
of course, it was our local fundraising effort. And they came through. I
partnered with Madame Chang (SuperStar #1). We spent two very hot mornings
walking across Badou, first to distribute and then collect. It made me very
comforted to see (at least at this superficial level) that some of the ‘grands hommes’
in town were respectful and supportive of our intentions.
Now on to what we did. I’m not going to get into the village
politics behind why it ended up on Mar 20 and not the 8th; just know
that the whole event was (sort of) taken out of the hands it started in and controlled
by the Affaires Sociales and the state library (CLAC) director. I will assume
some responsibility for this. I wasn’t sufficiently assertive about what we
wanted to do, as in keep the scale manageable and the attention on the
information/message the women wanted to give. We prepared the sketches on the
importance of empathetic communication between mothers and daughters. We placed
emphasis on how mothers can be the primary source of support for their girls,
in their education and at home. I left Badou right before the event for 1) a
SED close-out meeting in Kpalime and 2) for the migraine-inducing
responsibility of collecting our t-shirts. Upon return, I learned that one of
the national political parties was to say a ‘few’ words during our
presentation…and that they would pay for the center and the chairs and the
media coverage (still waiting on the last). I was piqued. I felt the blood
pulsating in my temples, as I do when I feel a frustration I can do nothing about.
Our parade, however, livelied up my soul. We were a raucous mass of girls and
women parading through town – singing songs, dancing, simply feeling good about being female.
When we arrived at the center, my heart plummeted as I saw
the party had hung their slogan up on stage. They, essentially, were using our
presentation, the collection of these women, for other purposes to dole out
their political messages. Someone had pulled a fast one on us.
Erin and I sat outside, waiting for the political
representatives to leave the center. I felt no desire to greet or acknowledge
them in any way as I walked past them into the center.
Our sketches were AWESOME. All the women got into it, sporting
‘costumes’ as young girls, gendarms, seedy zedmen, mean moms and nice moms. It
made me really proud of them all. They performed their parts well, confidently,
no nervous-laughter or faint voices from anyone. It was enough to quell the irritation I felt
about the political usurpation that morning. From the laughter and sounds
coming from the audience I gathered that they were into it too. I have videos
of their performances, which malheureusement, Togo internet is not strong
enough for me to upload. But enjoy the images!!
