By Hunter Kessous

Female genital cutting (FGC) is an international human rights violation and a form of gender-based violence. As the public becomes increasingly aware of this harmful practice, survivors of FGC are being portrayed in media and pop culture. FGC involves the partial or total removal of external female genitalia or other injuries for non-medical reasons. Producers of Orange is the New Black (OITNB), Call the Midwife, and The Good Doctor have incorporated FGC into their storylines. Warning: spoilers ahead!

Orange is the New Black Season 7, Episodes 9 and 10

OITNB’s most compelling season brought in Shani, an asylum seeker from Egypt. While in the detention center, she becomes intimate with an inmate, Niky. When their sex life begins to struggle, Shani opens up to Niky about the FGC she underwent at 11 years old. Her mother said she needed to get rid of a bug, a common justification for FGC that girls hear around the world. There are many aspects of Niky’s story that real-life survivors of FGC share. I was very impressed with the writers of OITNB for addressing the struggle with sexuality that FGC survivors face. FGC comes with a multitude of psychological impacts which harm survivors’ emotional and sexual functioning. Yet, too little attention is given to these consequences. Even research is lacking in this area. 

Niky does an excellent job of portraying how partners of FGC survivors should react. Niky researches alternative ways to make Shani feel good that don’t involve clitoral stimulation. In their next sexual encounter, Niky ensures Shani is relaxed and moves slowly. When pain arises, Niky stops immediately and promises that they will keep communicating until they find what works. The relationship between Niky and Shani is truly heart-warming. The actress who played Shani, Marie-Lou Nahhas, is a Lebanese American anti-FGC activist, who traveled with the UNFPA to meet with FGC survivors in Ethiopia, and uses her social media platforms to share information on FGC. Nahhas recently hosted the launch of Farzana Doctor’s newest novel, Seven, about women’s relationships, marriage, infidelity, religion, tradition, and sensitively exposes the practice of khatna or FGC among the Dawoodi Bohra community.

Call the Midwife Season 6, Episode 6Te

Call the Midwife painted the story of a pregnant woman, Nadifa, from Somaliland in the 1960s in England. At a young age, she was infibulated, meaning her outer labia were sewn together in order to form a seal, which narrows the vaginal opening. Like Shani, Nadifa thought what had happened to her was typical. The doctor and midwives had never seen FGC before, but handled her case graciously. When Nadifa went into labor, the midwife realized the panic she was experiencing was a result of a flashback to having been cut, and helped calm her. Mental health consequences are another component of FGC that are rarely discussed.

Nadifa gave birth en-route to the hospital, and the midwife had to cut her open in the ambulance. The day after her baby was born, Nadifa’s little sister was sent back to Somaliland by her mother’s orders to be cut. The midwives were enraged at this news and asked Nadifa how she could allow her sister to be held down and cut by a man, the same procedure that could have killed her. Nadifa informs the midwives, to their shock, that it is a woman, not a man, who performs FGC. She says her sister must be cut to ensure she is respected, clean, and able to find a good husband. The reasons Nadifa gave for her sister to undergo FGC are common justifications in many communities around the world. The midwives are unable to prevent Nadifa’s sister from leaving, as her boat for Somaliland leaves before they can reach her. The redeeming factor of this sad ending is that Nadifa decides not to allow her own daughter to be cut. 

The Good Doctor Season 2, Episode 2 

In this episode of The Good Doctor, a patient named Asha goes to the emergency room seeking vaginal rejuvenation. She says at the age of two she was tied down and cut. According to a research study on FGC, for survivors who sought reconstructive surgery, repairing the visual stigma of their genitals was a major motivator. Asha, whose real name is Mara, is of African ancestry, but her story highlights that FGC is occurring in the U.S. 

The surgeons create an elaborate plan to make her an outpatient so she can be home at the end of the school day. The plan goes awry when Mara awakes from surgery in pain. This signals that she has nerves that may be used to reconstruct the clitoris. Her parents and surgeon argue over whether Mara should undergo the reconstructive surgery or have the remaining nerves killed. The safer option would leave Mara permanently unable to experience clitoral stimulation. Mara chooses not to undergo the reconstruction. The surgeon awakes her once more without her parents present and tries to convince her to undergo the clitoral reconstruction. The surgeon goes ahead and performs the clitoral reconstruction without Mara’s consent. When Mara wakes up and realizes what happened, she thanks the surgeon. For the second time in her life, Mara’s body was altered without her consent. For many FGC survivors, this would be psychologically distressing.

Another major flaw we see in this episode, is that the doctor repeatedly calls FGC “butchering.” This language is very harmful and is demeaning to communities that practice FGC. This word choice is alienating, and can promote discrimination and reinforce stereotypes. Language such as this is counterproductive to the movement to abandon FGC.

Overall, I was very impressed with the portrayal of FGC in these TV shows. FGC is a complex issue, and I was happy to see facets such as sexuality, mental health, culture and treatment being addressed. When I embarked on this project, I was preparing myself for stereotypes and myths. Fortunately, this wasn’t the case. In fact, some common misconceptions were addressed. I believe the media is great for increasing public awareness.

By Zahara Kagalwalla

I am a chatty person. I call up my best friend and prattle to him even about the most mundane development in my life like the latest teatime snack I gobbled (muesli, definitely a poorly thought out choice). So when I am distressed, there is furor on the phone. Despite my love for babbling and our nine years of friendship, Phiroze did not know about my khatna experience, or female genital cutting, until very recently. I preferred to tuck it away in a corner of my brain because if I don’t acknowledge it, I can avoid processing the trauma. 

When I departed for university, things changed. I picked up a gender studies major and began learning about concepts such as informed consent and an individual’s right over their own body. This made me more and more uncomfortable with my “ignorance is bliss” policy. The trauma that I had successfully managed to bury in my subconscious emerged, and I finally began the journey toward understanding what happened to me ten years ago. Simply, I was cut, and I don’t like it. In fact, I was infuriated. 

One fine day, I decided to dial-up my mom and have a conversation, but really it wasn’t a conversation. I went in ready to pick a fight. I was the victim and my mother was the perpetrator. How could you? My accusatory tone coupled with my hot tears put her in defensive mode. She justified her actions:

“We took you to a doctor, not to an unqualified middlewoman in Bhendi Bazaar. You experienced no pain.” 

“Khatna doesn’t affect your life; it is ritualistic.”

“Maasi, I, and aunty have all undergone khatna. We are just fine even thirty years later.” 

With emotions running high, I was unable to communicate my point. Whether it hurts or not, whether the procedure was done in a doctor’s clinic or not, nothing changes the fact that it is my body and my rules. This definitely wasn’t a conversation.

Two years later, I realized that I left empathy at the doorstep during my first discussion about khatna with my mother. I disregarded that she came from a place of love, and she never intended to cause me any harm. I did not even bother to understand the kind of social pressure she faced from my extended family, and how her expressions of discomfort with the ritual were severely squashed.

I failed to acknowledge the constant guilt she lives with for compelling her daughter to partake in a primitive tradition, particularly when she witnesses my personal struggle toward self-acceptance. She fought for me, but the tremendous social pressure did not let her win.

Always uncomfortable and unsure about the ritual, my mother has now taken a stance against it. She couldn’t protect me, but she will protect her future granddaughter. Now we fight against khatna together, confident that my daughter will not face female genital cutting.

Annual Report: Sahiyo U.S: June 2019-June 2020

Throughout this past year, our programs have expanded to support larger numbers of women impacted by female genital cutting.

Our Voices to End FGM/C project alone saw the creation of 37 new original digital stories stories. Running since 2017, the program involves survivors coming together to heal from their FGC experiences and create their advocacy videos. The program has received sizable number of participants from a diverse range of countries including the United States, India, Singapore and Zimbabwe.
#MenToEndFGC, our Male Ally campaign is another one of our success stories from the past year. The campaign encouraged over 40 men across the globe –  from Ghana and Kenya to multiple regions of India and the United States-  to share stories via our various digital storytelling platforms about how FGC had impacted the women in their lives, including their wives, daughters, sisters, or female friends. Each participant made it clear that they were in ally in ensuring FGC ended for girls and women worldwide. 

All our work could not be completed without the wonderful support of our volunteers. And in this past year, we’ve grown our volunteer program by 70%, with 50 volunteers from over 9 countries. 

To learn more about our vital work this past year, please take some time to read the Annual Report. 
Thank you for being part of our journey. 

Cate is passionate about women’s rights and human rights and hopes to enter into those fields once she graduates from Simmons University, where she is studying International Relations, Economics, and Arabic. She is excited to work with Sahiyo to help uplift the voices of women everywhere.

1) When and how did you first get involved with Sahiyo?

I was officially brought on to the Sahiyo team in late August as a programs intern. However, even before that, I’d had my eye on Sahiyo as I knew they were doing really amazing work globally.

2) What does your work with Sahiyo involve?

As a programs intern my main focus is around planning and organizing Sahiyo webinars. This means I help coordinate speakers, create supporting materials, and anything else that comes up. I really love working in this capacity because it gives me such an in-depth understanding of the actual work Sahiyo is doing to create change.   

3) How has your involvement with Sahiyo impacted your life?

Aside from helping me develop my workplace skills, Sahiyo has really helped open my eyes to all the amazing people fighting for change across the world. Even in the few short weeks I have been working with Sahiyo, I have had the opportunity to meet so many inspiring activists and change-makers. Particularly in 2020, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed — and feel like nothing you do actually makes any difference. Having the opportunity to speak to so many amazing women reminds me that we actually do have the ability to create positive change in the world if we are willing to put in the work.

4) What words of wisdom would you like to share with others who may be interested in supporting Sahiyo and the movement against FGC?

Remember to take care of your mental health. There are many different avenues for activism, from art to webinars to writing, activism comes in many forms. But regardless of its form, activism, particularly about subjects as difficult as these, can take a toll on your mental health. This isn’t to say don’t get involved — definitely do. But be willing to step back and rest every now and then. And remember to listen to your body.

By Cate Cox

“Without our work, the issue would quickly be swept under the carpet — and so we carry on.” —Waris Dirie, Saving Safa 

It wasn’t until my first year at university before I was asked to critically engage with the issue of female genital cutting (FGC). Up until then what I knew about FGC I knew from overheard conversations between my parents and their colleagues, from snippets of news briefs and CNN articles that flashed across my computer screen. If you’d asked me to name an activist working to end FGC, my answer would have been something along the lines of someone working with the United Nations. 

Yet when I saw Waris Dirie’s novel, Saving Safa, on the reading list for my leadership class, I immediately recognized it. The young, but strong face of Safa having become almost synonymous with the global fight to end FGC. I knew her face, yet I didn’t know her story. 

As much as I agreed that the practice of FGC ought to end, I’d never been asked, or asked myself, to sit down and engage with the stories and lessons of the actual activists on the front lines working to end it. As I made my way through Dirie’s critically acclaimed sixth novel, I began to understand how little I understood. I realized how much my perception of FGC had been shaped by the position of an outsider looking in, instead of as a listener. 

We only spent two weeks in my class covering Saving Safa, but they are two weeks for which I am extremely grateful. Reading Saving Safa helped expand my understanding of FGC, the communities who practice it, and the challenges faced by people trying to end it. This 276-page book, not written for doctors or scholars or researchers, but accessible to ordinary people like me, had managed to change my world view in a mere two weeks. 

The success of Dirie’s many novels about this subject highlights the power of writing, and storytelling in general, as a weapon to encourage the abandonment of FGC. Writing allows people a glimpse into the thoughts and feelings of the communities that practice it. It allows us an accessible way to understand the issues and complexities of ending the practice. Most importantly, it brings to light the stories of such an often overlooked and ignored practice. Writing also has the power to allow survivors to see their own stories reflected, and gives both the author and the reader a space to heal.

But the legacy of FGC and writing doesn’t end with Dirie. New and emerging writers are taking the torch to use writing to help shift the narratives around FGC. One of those writers is Farzana Doctor, author of the upcoming novel, Seven. In her novel, Doctor follows the story of Sharifa and the unrest that is gripping the Dawoodi-Bohra community as activists grow louder in their fight to end the practice of khatna or FGC. Doctor’s writing never shies away from highlighting the complications and difficulties that come with trying to end the practice. These reviews shine a light on Doctor’s intentions for Seven:

“In her grand tradition, Farzana Doctor once again pushes us forward with nuanced, layered, inter-generational prose, to bring visibility to an important social issue. An urgent and passionate read.”—Vivek Shraya, author of I’m Afraid of Men and The Subtweet

“Seven is an intimate, gutsy feminist novel that exposes the lasting, individual impacts of making women’s bodies fodder for displays of religious obeisance.”—Michelle Anne Schingler, FOREWORD Reviews

These reviews summarize the value that writing has in education and advocacy around FGC. The work of Doctor, and other authors like her, is helping to continue to push against the boundaries of silence that keep this practice so often trapped in the shadows. She is fighting to continue the tradition started so many years ago by Dirie in using writing to shed light on the topic of FGC. 

Doctor will speak about her work and activism at the Sahiyo webinar, Moving Towards Sexual Pleasure and Emotional Healing After FGC, on October 22nd, at 12 noon. Expert panelists Joanna Vergoth and Sarian Karim-Kamara will shed light on these subjects using their professional and personal experiences. 

Register for this event today: https://bit.ly/HealingAfterFGC 

The event is co-sponsored by Sahiyo, WeSpeakOut, The End FGM/C Canada Network, forma, and Keep the Drums Lose the Knife.

For those interested in learning more about FGC, you can purchase a copy of Seven through the links below or bookstores: Re

US: bit.ly/orderSevenUS

Canada: bit.ly/orderseven

Audiobook: bit.ly/sevenaudiobook

“Talking about Female Genital Cutting (FGC): A Study” is a research study undertaken to explore the way communities talk about FGC, the challenges of having such conversations, and the attitudes toward movements and campaigns on FGC. The study is authored by Reetika Revathy Subramanian and funded by Grand Challenges Canada. The project has been led by Vasavya Mahila Mandali from 2019-20 in association with Sahiyo India.

This multi-disciplinary study investigates communication attitudes and challenges for having a conversation/s on khatna or FGC. It adopts a mixed-methods approach using an in-depth qualitative survey and feminist focus group discussions, both anchored online, to explore the links between the need for privacy and feminist-led advocacy in the existing public conversations and contestations on the practice of FGC in India and globally. 

The findings of the research seek to explore a connection between the need for privacy and feminist-led digital-safe spaces. 

The survey questionnaire for this study is open to all Bohras above 18 years of age, and it is available in three languages:

Take the survey in English. 

Take the survey in Gujarati.

Take the survey in Hindi.