Age: 34

Country: USA

I was six years old when my mom explained to me that I had to undergo the procedure of khatna – that a small surgery would happen on my private parts. I simply understood that it was one of the many rituals that I, as a Muslim girl, would experience. So one night when my parents and I were at the markaz for an event, my mom took me with her to the back room storage area where a young woman introduced herself as a doctor. The cutting happened so quickly – I do not remember any pain. I do not remember being afraid. I was given a maxi pad to wear which felt awkward. And was then asked to go into the men’s section to tell my dad we were ready to go home.

While physically, I was not severely damaged, emotionally the experience of khatna has held a sobering cloud over my understanding of sexual health. The practice of khatna reinforced the idea that a woman’s sexuality is to be protected and hidden and not talked about. This is compounded by the policing of menstruating women – that we cannot touch the Qur’an or enter the Masjid while on our period. This all serves to define female genitalia as dirty things to be cut, cleaned or controlled.

It took me years to unlearn this internalised oppression and find a way to practice Islam in a way that allows me to feel empowered by my sexuality instead of ashamed of it. I am also grateful that my parents are part of this journey with me and are speaking out against the practice of khatna. I know my mom especially regrets that she caved to the pressure from her parents and allowed khatna to be performed on me. I wish I could take that burden of guilt away from her. I can only hope that as she sees me in a healthy relationship with my husband now, she knows that I am OK and that we can work together to ensure the practice of genital cutting ends with my generation.

By: Zarina Patel

Country of Residence: Kenya    

Age: 81 years

I only very recently heard a fleeting mention of FGM being practiced in the Bohra Community in my country, Kenya. It was in a group conversation where I was adamantly protesting against the FGM still being inflicted on Kenyan women in spite of it being an illegal procedure in Kenyan law since 2011.

It was my first time to hear the word ‘khatna’. Though I am a Bohra thankfully my late parents did not subject me to it. And so hush-hush is this ritual that my subsequent enquiries bore no fruit. But in the process, I came across SAHIYO – a windfall.

FGM or FGC, extensive or minimal, is today recognized by the United Nations as a human rights violation and is one of many manifestations of gender inequality. To drag an innocent young girl child into a dark room and forcefully inflict this wound on her body; subject her to excruciating pain and most probably tell her never to speak about it as if she has committed a crime – surely this is unacceptable by any standard of human behaviour. I think any caring and ethical person will agree that it is a violation.

I am interested in looking at some of the more analytical aspects of FGM in our community.

First of all, I cannot help wondering why male circumcision is an event celebrated with much feasting and publicity, while its female equivalent is often done so secretively and in such isolation. The only reason I can think of is that those who perform, or arrange for, this latter act know that it is both criminal and unjustifiable and that no young girl would agree to it if asked.

Male circumcision is performed to remove the foreskin of the male organ and in this day of HIV infections male circumcision has proved to be highly beneficial; even men in our Luo community (which is often referred to as the community of the uncircumcised) are embarking on it. The World Health Organization states ‘compelling evidence’ in support of this. There are no proven health benefits for FGC.

Often, female circumcision is performed to reduce, if not eliminate the sexual ‘urge’. There are those who claim the opposite – that FGM enhances sexual pleasure because you are exposing the clitoris even more so, but this assertion cannot stand up to scientific reasoning. Can there be a better example of patriarchal domination and discrimination? And please note, the clitoris is one of the centres of sexual pleasure, NOT the urge which precedes the act. The urge is the result of the hormones racing through our bodies which the Almighty created.

I would earnestly request my sisters, and the concerned menfolk, to give some serious thought to the practice of FGM/FGC and not to blindly follow some religious or traditional edict. After all, even in Islam directives made some 1400 years ago are being reviewed: Examples are the attainment of talak (divorce) by just three utterances (by the husband of course!) being made unlawful and the conditions for marrying  four wives being made almost impossible to fulfil.

And lastly do keep in mind that the practice of FGM is much older than Islam, it was already prevalent in the time of the Prophet Abraham. And it is not only Muslims who practice it; several one-time animist and now largely Christian ethnic communities also inflict this violation on their women. FGM is practiced in 30 countries in the world. One of the major propaganda tools used by our founding Kenyan president, Jomo Kenyatta, in his struggle against British colonialism was to urge his people to resist the order of the white Christian missionaries and the colonial officers for the banning of female circumcision. In those historical times the order was viewed as a form of cultural imperialism.

In one of the videos available on the SAHIYO site, a woman who performs this vile act claims, when asked the purpose of this procedure, that it promotes moral behaviour. She actually states that the Bohra community has a much lower incidence of extra marital sex and adultery by women compared to other communities in India. Really? Has she carried out a survey, done the required research on this topic? Has anyone for that matter? It would certainly be a very interesting study but almost impossible in my reckoning – which woman is going to admit to a researcher (or anyone) that she is sexually ‘free’?

I do hope that we are well past the age of just believing when we now have the educational tools to analyse issues and understand the processes. Is it not Islam of all religions that urges its followers to search for enlightenment even if it means traveling to the ends of the earth?

Country: Singapore

Community: Malay

By: Afiqa Ab Rahman

Recently I attended a workshop where participants from Singapore, Malaysia, India, and Thailand shared their experiences and discussed Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). Variations of the term include Female Genital Cutting (FGC) or “Sunat Perempuan”.

It was intriguing to hear the experiences and research findings from various countries. But what intrigued me the most was to find that FGM was not considered a problem in some countries. The participants from Thailand, for example, shared that 100% of their women have been cut as it is seen as an identity marker of being Pattani Malay and nobody questioned it.

From speaking to women, the researcher from Malaysia offered some reasons that were given on why FGM is done. She explained that some mothers thought that it was an empowering choice for the mother to decide on her daughter’s circumcision because it wasn’t the father’s or any male family members who decided. A participant from India opposed this “empowering choice” concept. What I understood from her comment was that patriarchy was to blame for having women internalise FGM as “ideas of women” and think that the choices they make for their daughters are empowering. I couldn’t agree more.

In my opinion, what is empowering is accepting that your daughter has personal agency and that they can choose what to do (or not) to their bodies. What is empowering is also to have the courage to question the practice.

Personally, I had been cut as a child. In fact, all the women in my family have been cut. The doctor used a sharp knife to nick my clitoral hood. And in all honesty, if I hadn’t asked my mother whether I was circumcised, I wouldn’t have known. I thought my vulva showed no signs of circumcision. When I asked my mother why she had me circumcised, she explicitly stated that it was to “decrease my libido” – the very same reason why all the women in my family have gotten circumcised.

Let’s think about this – as a woman, and as a mother, does that sound right? Doesn’t nicking the clitoral hood, expose it to external stimulations? How would it “decrease the libido”? Isn’t it also very patronizing that the reason for circumcision is to prevent girls from “becoming promiscuous and going astray”? And if the purpose of circumcision is to decrease women’s libido, what is being done to decrease men’s libido?

I think what we should be doing is not just accept this practice without questioning. Why is “sunat perempuan” so shameful to discuss and deemed a taboo? I think it’s about time people are open to discussing this so as to decide whether it’s really beneficial and necessary. This could save people a lot of money (from not having to pay for the procedure). And in some countries, it could save many lives too.

On October 6, Sahiyo co-founders Insia Dariwala and Aarefa Johari were given an opportunity to introduce the topic of Female Genital Cutting to a host of grassroots social workers in Mumbai. This opportunity came through an invitation from the Justice and Peace Commission, one of many organisations run by the Catholic Church in Mumbai to work with local communities across religious lines. The Commission runs community centres across the city, but the session that Sahiyo conducted with more than 20 social workers was held at JPC’s headquarters at St. Pius College.

Most of the participants in the session were grassroots activists working in their respective communities and neighbourhoods on a range of issues, particularly women and children’s rights. The topic of FGC or khatna was new to many of them, and they were keenly interested in Sahiyo’s introduction to the issue, the explanation of the reasons cited for practicing khatna and how FGC is essentially a social norm like so many others.

Participants were then encouraged to discuss various social norms in their own cultures and how they could possibly be combatted. This was an enthusiastic and very involved audience, and the topic of social norms led to very lively discussions. Predictably, the women grew more lively while talking about menstrual taboos and one woman shared a heartening story of how her young daughter changed the norm in their home by refusing to follow her grandmother’s menstrual restrictions.

Most of the participants were women, but the few men in the audience spoke of the pressures to be ‘masculine’ as a social norm. One of the activists talked about how she makes both boys and girls at her NGO do household chores, even though the boys are not expected to do the sweeping or cleaning at in their own homes.

After the talk, several participants expressed an interest in discussing FGC with their own Bohra friends. We sincerely thank the Justice and Peace Commission for giving us this opportunity.