Dear Maasi is a column about everything you wanted to know about sex and relationships but were afraid to ask! It’s a partnership between Sahiyo and WeSpeakOut, and is for all of us who have questions about khatna (female genital mutilation/cutting or FGM/C) and how it impacts our bodies, minds, sexualities and relationships. We welcome you to submit your anonymous questions.

Dear Maasi, 

I have a question about the deep shame I hold for being cut. It is so toxic and permeates throughout my life. How can I move past it?

—Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,

Shame is an important topic that doesn’t get addressed enough—thanks for asking this question. 

Shame results when our inner critic judges us harshly, most often about things we’ve had little or no control over. These judgements come from the negative or abusive messages imposed on us as children. Shame doesn’t just criticize our behaviours but something more integral: our worth as human beings. For this reason it can impact all aspects of our lives.

Khatna, or female genital cutting, stamps shame on the body. As kids, we don’t have the capacity to understand why a confusing and painful thing is happening to us. The taboo and secretive nature of the practice reinforces the shame. Most children turn the blame and shame inward, rather than pointing it at the trusted caregivers who are betraying us.

So how do we begin to resolve shame? There are many paths to healing:

• Begin to intentionally cast a compassionate gaze upon yourself. At first, your affirmations may feel false, but with repetition, that will change.
• View your inner shamer as a child-like protector who functions to keep you feeling small and worthless in order to avoid further harm. Thank it for its diligent work and remind it that you’ve grown up and have other resources for feeling safe. This is an Internal Family Systems approach. Learn more through this 14-minute video.
• Seek out a trauma therapist who can help you work through the khatna. Doing so enabled me to identify the child-logic (the ways I made “sense” of the traumatic moment as a kid) that led to me internalizing the blame. This child-logic had long legs that impacted many aspects of my life, including self-expression, romantic relationships, friendships and work. Check out my January 2021 column for tips on finding a therapist.
• Debunk the myths you’ve learned about your sexuality and body. Most of us have learned that our genitals are “bad” or “wrong” or “dirty.” If we don’t shame our elbows, why would we shame our vulvas?  
• Talk to other khatna survivors or listen to their stories. This will remind you that you’re not alone, and not to blame.

Anonymous, healing from shame takes time and effort, but it is possible. I wish you all the best in this journey! 

—Maasi

About Maasi, aka Farzana Doctor: Farzana is a novelist and psychotherapist in private practice. She’s a founding member of WeSpeakOut and the End FGM/C Canada Network. She loves talking about relationships and sexuality! Find out more about her at http://www.farzanadoctor.com. Disclaimer: While Farzana is full of good advice, this column won’t address everyone’s individual concerns and should not be used as a substitute for professional medical or psychological care.

By Anonymous

I had the opportunity to attend Sahiyo’s second virtual Activists Retreat (my first one) last month and absolutely loved every second of it. I had been feeling extreme Zoom fatigue leading up to the weekend, and wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending an entire weekend on Zoom. But as soon as the weekend started, I forgot about how tired I felt and immersed myself in all of the activities. My favorite part of the entire weekend was definitely just interacting with all the other attendees: getting to know them, hearing their stories and ideas, and feeling a sense of community even though we were all miles apart from each other. Together we created a space that was truly welcoming and inclusive. During one of the sessions, a past participant even privately messaged me. She noticed I had been quiet and encouraged me to share my thoughts. She gave me the push I needed to speak up and share my ideas, something I would not have normally done.

It seems crazy to say that the Activists Retreat created change over the span of three days of virtual sessions. But after participating in it first hand, I can confidently say that it did have an enormous impact on the overall movement to end female genital cutting (FGC). During our closing session, I noticed other attendees, myself included, simply reflecting on everything we had learned. We learned about the long legal history of FGC in the U.S. and globally, about sexual health in the context of FGC, about the experiences, actions, and ideas of other attendees. There were first time attendees who participated in the retreat unsure of where they stood on the issue that ended the weekend with a lot to ponder. We also outlined action items, both individually and as a group, of tangible things we wanted to work on and accomplish over the next year, from raising money so Sahiyo can continue to sustain itself to work toward policy change at the state level. One of my goals was to speak to my own friends from mosque, something I had been wanting to do for a while, but always felt too scared. Last week, I had dinner with one of these friends, and at the end of the night I just decided to go for it and ask her about FGC. We were able to have a long conversation about it and I got to learn her perspective, and she learned mine. She said she didn’t have enough knowledge about the topic but was thankful I had brought it up to her. She said she would do more of her own research when she got home.

Without the Activists Retreat, I don’t know if I would have had the courage or mindset to have this conversation with my friend. But knowing there were other people who were also having these difficult discussions and were pushing themselves to advocate against this issue motivated me to do the same. Throughout this year, I am going to continue working toward my goal to talk to more of my friends about FGC, and in doing so, broaden the conversation so we can protect the next generation of girls.

To learn more about the 2021 Activists Retreat, take a look at our Report.

By Amena

I attended Sahiyo’s Activists Retreat because it stands for a cause I believe in to end female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) for future generations of girls. This was the first time I was able to connect with people who have a similar stance on this cause and meet allies and people who have been through a similar experience as me, or know someone who has been through it. It was such a pleasure to be a part of something like this retreat. 

I learned and realized that everyone has different experiences regarding FGM/C. For something that is so taboo to talk about, it’s hard to know, understand, and even accept that there are allies out there creating change in our community to end FGM/C. To be specific, women often feel like they are alone in regard to this subject. Having men actively wanting to be allies and support our efforts to create change is nice to see, and so it was helpful for me to know there were male participants at our Activists Retreat.

I’m also currently an intern for Sahiyo U.S., and I’m hoping to make some significant contributions during my time with them. I think attending this retreat was a great way for me to get my foot in the door with this cause, and that it can help others who may want to get involved. It can also give you a sense of community as it did for me. 

I look forward to attending the Activists Retreat in the future, hopefully in person next time.

To learn more about the 2021 Activists Retreat, take a look at our Report.

By Sakshi Rajani 

Age: 17

Country: India

Female genital cutting (FGC): the term sounded ruthless the first time I heard it. It was not long ago that I was introduced to this term. While going through my Instagram feed, I read a story about a law student who was spreading awareness about FGC, and I was clueless about what it was. Immediately I searched this issue online and learned how serious it was. Then, I pondered why I hadn’t known about it earlier. Why had no one around me talked about it? 

Upon researching it further, I came to know how deeply rooted this problem was in communities and cultures. My will to do something to end it became stronger. I looked for organisations working to end FGC and came across Sahiyo. I soon joined the organisation. 

The first time I spoke about FGC to my friends they said, “What is that?” I wasn’t surprised by their reaction because I, too, was unfamiliar with it. I asked them to research it on their own, and then I explained more about the harms. I told them the World Health Organization and the United Nations declared FGC a human rights violation. Then I introduced them to the groundbreaking Mumkin app created by two co-founders of Sahiyo, Priya Goswami and Aarefa Johari, where my friends could learn more valuable information about this issue.

What are the hurdles in encouraging abandonment of or ending FGC? FGC is also often seen as a necessary ritual for initiation into womanhood and can be linked to cultural ideals of femininity, purity and modesty. A strong incentive to continue the practice is family pressure to adhere to conventional social norms. Women who break from this social norm can face condemnation, abuse and rejection from family or community members. Patriarchal society can help perpetuate it generation after generation. 

Female genital cutting should stop immediately, as a woman should have full rights over her body and no woman should be harmed because of societal norms and expectations. I am now an advocate to make sure FGC ends.

African women continue to struggle to find the right spaces to speak and share the realities of our generation. We do not lack bravery or confidence, but advocacy spaces that would engage our stories with kindness and actual solutions. Our feminist ancestors have taught us that what brings us together is our Pan-African solidarity. As African women, we will not allow anyone to keep us quiet. We know and recognize that the future cannot be just, peaceful and equal if young women and girls remain subject to gender-based violence such as female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C), other forms of domestic violence and femicide. Enough is enough. African women want and expect to be freed from the societal misconceptions which fuel the prevalence of FGM/C. 

It was groundbreaking to bring together 1,500 young people from across the continent during five Africa Young women Beijing + 25 virtual regional barazas (or convenings) hosted by the African Union Special Envoy on Youth, Aya Chebbi, in November 2020. The barazas opened up a space for sharing and speaking on the issues that challenge African women’s access and mobility spatially and socially. This was based on the premise that Africa’s women do not need anyone to speak on their behalf. They have voices and demands that must be heard and acted upon with the respect they deserve. The regional consultations culminated in the Africa Young Women Beijing + 25 Manifesto—a revolutionary feminist document that carries 10 bold demands. These are the hopes and aspirations that come to exist against sexist national laws, marginalization, and the lack of economic justice. 

As expressed by Africa’s young women, FGM/C remains a tool used to oppress their bodies—as an act of gender-based violence which many women have been forced to remain silent about for decades. Unlike other spaces, the manifesto was not built upon the problematic framing which discusses women’s issues without giving them agency. Instead, it was created through their inputs, generous sharing, radical honesty and listening. 

What about the other demands? FGM/C interlinkage with other forms of inequalities must be recognized. Each of the Manifesto’s 10 Demands provides an important roadmap to re-affirm that liberation pathways for young women are multi-layered and include demanding the provision of legal, physical and psychological support, shelters and specialist services to women subjected to all forms of violence, to demanding the removal of taxation on menstrual products, enforcement of progressive period policies in all workplaces, and the provision of free sanitary pads and sanitation in all schools.

African women and the 10 demands: 

• Economic Justice 
• The Criminalization of Gender-Based Violence
• The End of Gender-Based Discrimination
• Access to Justice and Protection
• Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights
• Mental Health and Well-Being
• Inclusive, Equitable and Quality Education
• Digital Justice
• Silencing the Guns
• Intergenerational co-leadership

What binds the manifesto together is an equitable desire to center women’s voices within policy and decision making spaces in which they are absent— an absence that can be deemed violent. These are spaces in which African women are being spoken for, without inclusion. The Generation Equality Forum in Paris provides us, as the Nala Feminist Collective, with a unique opportunity to advocate for the implementation of these 10 demands. We are powered by African women’s words with a document that unites our voices, across urban and rural, online and offline spaces.

Our Nala Council is made of 17 feminists with a mission to foster, enable and mobilize young women from Africa and the diaspora, bridging the gap between policy and implementation, intergovernmental and grassroots organizations, as well as generational spaces. 

Together—not without Africa’s young women. 

Join our advocacy. We have launched our 10,000 Signature Campaign. We need your support. The fight cannot be solo. Lend your voice to African young women and sign the Manifesto. 

By Sandra Yu

Healthy Tomorrow hosted a film screening and panel discussion of In the Name of Your Daughter, filmed and directed by Giselle Portenier and released in 2018. The featured speakers of the panel last fall were Portenier, herself, and Susan McLucas, founder of Healthy Tomorrow. Healthy Tomorrow (in partnership with Sini Sanuman) is a U.S.-based group that actively works to stop female genital cutting (FGC) in Mali. A notable Sahiyo volunteer and former programs intern, Hunter Kessous, was involved in the event planning, as well.

The documentary is a deeply intimate piece about young girls in Tanzania who bear the societal pressure to undergo FGC. Following the stories of several young girls in Tanzania and a charismatic African activist, Rhobi Samwelly, the audience is taken on an emotional journey into the heartbreaking circumstances in which daughters flee their families to escape FGC and their planned child marriages.

For me, the topic of FGC was not unfamiliar, but I had always read medical analyses and journal articles that characterized the girls’ bodies by their body parts. To watch the film and hear firsthand from filmmaker Portenier and activist Susan McLucas was eye-opening. I believe the film succeeded beyond expectations.

In the highly divisive rhetoric of anti-FGC activists against cultural traditionalists, Portenier presents the complexities of fighting against an ingrained tradition in detail. Most notably, she wedges parental authority against legal authority. In one scene, the school authorities and police receive notice that parents are preparing for cutting season, the summer months of June, July, and August when thousands of girls in Tanzania undergo FGC from traditional community cutters. Gathered in a small classroom, the local police, schoolteachers, and activists face off with parents. They go head-to-head, arguing about who has the authority to determine their fates. Tears flow, and it is a heartbreaking scene; the parents must decide between a heavily ingrained cultural tradition and the wellbeing of their daughters, while the young girls decide whether they can trust their very own families.

The second front that I believe Portenier succeeds on is to elicit a heart-wrenching response from the audience on behalf of the young girls. She presents a heart-wrenching juxtaposition between the girls’ perceived social roles and their own autonomous dreams. In the initial scenes, we are taken with Samwelly to a community market as she asks men about their beliefs regarding marriage, FGC, and women. One man pointed to the cows surrounding them and commented. “A cut girl is worth ten to twelve cows,” he said. “An uncut girl is worth six cows, sometimes less.” Another man chimed in, “I am an entrepreneur,” he said. “My business comes from selling cloths and items for the ceremonies. If you stop FGC, you are infringing on my rights as an entrepreneur.” 

Throughout the film, young girls are constantly compared to their marriage value or dowry worth in cows, and criticized for promiscuity or uncleanliness. In the last scene, we see a montage of young girls, each with a dream. One wants to become a doctor, another an aerospace pilot. As Portenier commented in the panel discussion after the screening, a human rights perspective is needed in fighting FGC above all else. When the girls realize their autonomy and impact of FGC on their bodies, they instinctively flee because it is an infringement upon their human rights. 

On that note, Portenier makes the violence of the tradition crystal clear. In the film, she juxtaposes the stunning Tanzanian landscape, fields extending far past what the eye can see, with the intense night-time raids, as police rescue girls about to undergo FGC and arrest parents and cutters. Beyond the immediate physiological and psychological trauma, young girls that undergo FGC may hemorrhage or bleed heavily to the point of death. Long-lasting effects include problems with childbirth, pain during sexual intercourse, and sexual dysfunction. Additionally, arresting parents may not be effective for long-term change, as it is not to the benefit of the child in many cases and the girls will likely still be cut. Immediate family members can oversee the cutting without parental permission or in the case of the parents’ imprisonment.

By the end of the film, the audience is left heartbroken for the young girls, forced to make a life-changing decision between their families and their autonomy. Portenier ends on a positive note, highlighting Rhobi’s incredible work, including the Safe House built to house runaway girls. I do wish that she touched more on the relationship between FGC, traditions, and religion, as well as the growing medicalization trend of FGC being performed by healthcare providers. However, in the 1 hour and 25 minutes, In the Name of Your Daughter does a phenomenal job of drawing in and mobilizing the audience. 

After the film screening, McLucas and Portenier discussed the impact of COVID-19 on activists’ efforts. The situation has worsened as families are selling daughters off into marriage at larger numbers due to the economic crisis in Tanzania. While the activists’ previous strategy involved law enforcement, largely through school involvement and night raids, the families have adapted. Cutting season comprises a full year potentially and schools are closed, leaving many girls vulnerable to the tradition. McLucas, whose work is focused on ending FGC in Mali, lamented that it is increasingly difficult to investigate potential cuttings. However, her organization’s strategy now focuses primarily on ensuring that uncut women gain value within their own societies. The task is daunting, to change the minds of a generation and more, but the activists in Tanzania are making an impact. The Safehouse, developed by Samwelly, has saved more than 300 girls so far, and continues to house girls in their time of need.

To learn more about FGC in Tanzania:

https://www.unfpa.org/news/girls-escaping-fgm-rural-tanzania-crowdsourced-maps-show-way-safety

https://tanzania.unfpa.org/en/publications/fact-sheet-fgm-united-republic-tanzania

About the film:

Below is Rhobi Samwelly speaking at a United Nations’ panel in 2018: