BOGALETCH “BOGE” GEBRE is an academic and women's rights campaigner whose organisation, Kembatti Mentti Gezzima (Kembatta Women Stand Together), is credited with drastically reducing the practise of female genital mutilation in her home country of Ethiopia. On May 22nd she received the King Baudouin prizefor contributions to development in Africa, previous winners of which include microfinance pioneer Muhammad Yunus and Denis Mukwege, a doctor renowned for his work with victims of sexual violence in Congo.
What was it like growing up in rural Ethiopia at a time when female genital mutilation (FGM) and bridal kidnappings were common?
My childhood was not much different to that of most of the girls of my time in the 1950s in rural areas. When it came to circumcision I was no exception. I looked forward to it because it would make people see me differently. It was done when I was 12 years old and I nearly bled to death. For women it was backbreaking work and a soul-crushing life. A woman didn't have an identity unless she gave birth to a son. She was always so and so's wife, so and so's mother or daughter. Most people thought that circumcision was barbaric but necessary. A mother doesn't want to hurt her daughter, but to prepare her to be a good wife. There were these myths that removing the clitoris, inner and outer labia was clean. And that if the clitoris touched the baby during childbirth it would die.
How did you get the education that would provide you with an escape from the drudgery you describe?
I had a great uncle whose son was the pastor at a Protestant mission school. I was impressed by them, they dressed well and travelled to other places. My cousin actually went to the school. My sisters would cover my chores and I would sneak away to the lessons. I was an oddity as a girl who learned to read. My mother helped but my father never knew—he would have preferred his son to have learning. I was the first girl in our area to finish primary school. I won a scholarship to the only boarding school in Addis Ababa [Ethiopia’s capital]. From there I went to university in Jerusalem to study microbiology and then as a Fulbright scholar to the Univeristy of Massachusetts Amherst in America.
Your organisation, Kembatti Mentti Gezzima (KMG), has been credited with reducing FGM rates from 100% to 3%. How was this success achieved?
I don't tell people to stop. They decide to stop. We began community conversations based on the tradition of African elders which involved the old, young, religious, the police, the educated, men and women. People would meet every fortnight for two hours until they reached consensus. Often the women didn't talk to begin with, they would sit by themselves but eventually they talked and got some respect. We provided the basic facts—that FGM is not in the Bible, it's not in the Koran, it's not part of culture or law. It had become a habit. But a woman's life is not one issue or one item. Talking about rights without addressing her daily life is abstract unless you can improve her economic position. When women are empowered they become their own agents of change.
Are there common factors that have contributed to the plight of women in many African societies?
There are four reasons why women are suffering. In Africa, history is “his-story”. It's the story of men that is told. Secondly, it has been sanctioned by religions, for instance the Catholic church with its notion of original sin. Thirdly, there is no value given to the unpaid work that women do. Yet they are the feeders, the farm labourers, the child bearers and the first teachers of children. Lastly, the new elite in democratic countries pay lip service to women's rights but when it comes to enforcing them they don't do it. They don't want to upset traditional leaders because of their influence in elections. In Ethiopia women are there to decorate the parliament. They're not elected; they're put there. There are signs of hope in other countries where women are seeing what can be achieved, and can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
