Women's Day in Juba

This morning I got the opportunity to join women in Juba celebrate International Women’s Day. I arrived at Juba No1 Girl’s School at about 9:30, thinking there was no need for me to be on time, as nothing ever starts promptly here. But, still, even though I was technically half an hour late, it was just me and some UNMISS peacekeepers milling around on a scrubby, football field. Then a flat bed truck packed with soldiers in camouflage came roaring down the road, the soldiers, all of them women, singing, shouting and trilling.  They poured out of the truck, and spilled across the field, still laughing and shouting until their commander took them in hand.

A small group of girl scouts, dressed in light beige, with crisp white socks and pink, green and yellow knotted kerchiefs, many of them with their heads shaved, started marching with knees up at the end of the field.

More women showed up, enveloped in bright colours, their hair either twisted into intricate plaits or tied up under colourful scarves, all hugging and slapping hands and everywhere, the trilling; I don’t know how to describe it other than a escalating call, like a bird. Many are dressed in t-shirts that call for girl’s education and an end to violence against women. I saw one t-shirt that read: “gender mainstreaming is not a request, it’s a requirement”, so I took a photo. A mistake. One of the women pointed at me, and the woman in the t-shirt span round. “Are you secretly taking my photo,” she accuses. “No, no,” I reply, “I just wanted a photo of your t-shirt.” She smiles, and shakes my hand. You are welcome she says, turning her back to me so I can take another photo.

A truck of police arrives, all men this time, with riot shields and batons and they lurk, uncomfortable, at the edge of this critical mass of women. I turn to the UNMISS peacekeepers who look as surprised as I do at the seemingly over armed police.

The band shows up. Trumpets, drums, the works, and soon we are off, more women join  - NGOs and civil society groups and women and girls who just walk along sides us. Four or five blind woman hold hands and walk, seeming without any trepidation, over the undulating, potholed road, which trips me up every couple of steps.

Hundreds of women sing in unison, and I ask what the words mean. “We are singing to Salva Kir, our president. We are saying we will not surrender what we have gained; our education, our freedoms. We are going forward, we are never going back.”

Men sit along the side of the road, watching, smirking, slouched over their motorbikes or in tea stalls, where they spend most of every day while their wives, daughters and mothers cook, clean, gather water, firewood, wash clothes and pots and pans and look after children and relatives and cattle and farms and often bake bread to sell, or tea, or tailor, or work in an office. I hate those smirks.

We arrive at the Women’s Union, where there are speeches and songs. One class of boys and girls file up on stage to sing.  They lyrics are a hit: “They are the mothers of the world, the mothers of the world. They are the reason that we stand strong and firm. But we have a question; a question for you. What is the future for women, in South Sudan?”

The women erupt in applause, waving their “educate girls and women” placards. It’s a pretty emotional moment.

Another woman gets up on stage and addresses the men. “We made a mistake,” she says, “when we tried to do gender sensitizing without men. I have a message for the men who support us. Do not accept to marry an uneducated woman.  If you do, you are inviting problems into your home. You are inviting poverty into your home. An educated woman, a woman who can read and write, will bring prosperity and health to your family. Do you want a wife who cannot budget the household, who asks you all the time for money? Do you want a wife who doesn’t know when her child is sick? Who will wait for you to get home to take the child to the hospital, or to administer the medicine because she cannot read it? Men of South Sudan, do not accept to marry an uneducated woman.” 

I’m not sure how I feel about this message. But it strikes at the heart of the issue. Girls are seen as items of value. A man has to pay, in cattle, for a bride. If he doesn't want an educated wife, it is unlikely a family will allow their daughters to go to school, no matter how many "behaviour changing messages" we run.