Female equality????

Being female in The Gambia is a strange phenomenon. A constant struggle of house work, family life, work, gardening and making ends meet take place, alongside the banter and chatter at the well and mutual support from the other women around. Sharing everything (including husbands) is common place and, for a society which has so little, they take little care of things that are precious. The motorbike that I knocked over snapping the cable aroused the comment ‘oh I have two. The front brake still works’. At home that would have been an insurance claim for sure.



Being a white female is even stranger. I am neither fowl nor beast or maybe both. Accepted as an honoury man at work, my opinion is sought and acted upon, especially in the absence of Pete who is the default person to ask even when it is my area of expertise. I am usually the only woman in meetings of up to fifty. There will occasionally be another headmistress but typically it is me and the men. I think I get a much easier deal than some other VSO’s by dint of my age and having Pete about, both of which appear to make me more acceptable.


At home I feel there is an expectation that I will join in with the women but in truth my language skills, physical strength and will are not up to it. Ma starts at 6 everyday and works till midnight. Me? I need a snooze in the middle of the day when it gets hot. The other night I was talking to Phil and Pete whilst they did the washing up. I had cooked and that’s the deal here. Isotou, one of the new compound residents, a girl of sixteen came in for a chat. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Yes, she thought it was fair that they should take their part but no she could not see any Gambian man doing so.


Mulai makes me laugh. The first to recognize how hard the women work he tries his utmost to make their lot easier, organizing wells and committees for which they will be responsible. He will rush to help me if I go to get the water, carrying the heavy Gerry cans always most solicitous and yet wouldn’t dream of helping Ma although she will be carrying the shopping on her head at the same time.


This line of thought has come to mind today because it is Tobaski, or as we call it at home Big Eid, the Muslim celebration of sacrifice. Mulai, Seedy and mini Mulai have gone to the mosque with Pete, dressed in their finery. Ma and Ndella are cooking, cleaning and preparing the feast that the men will eat on their return. They have new clothes to put on later and may squeeze in a few visits to family but it is mainly the men who will rest and rejoice.