Approximately 80% of women between the ages of 15 and 49 in Sierra Leone have endured the harrowing experience of female genital mutilation (FGM), as per findings from the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA). This tragic statistic reveals a practice that isn’t merely a ritual; it is a troubling cornerstone of identity for many communities within the country. As Kaata Minah, an African feminist activist and a 2024 Impact West Africa Fellow, elucidates in her writing for the Inter Press Service, this act is often perceived as an essential rite of passage into womanhood.
Isn’t it paradoxical? In a world striving for progress and equity, some cultures cling to practices that perpetuate harm. Mina eloquently argues that while some individuals may choose silence surrounding their experiences—viewing it as a form of quiet defiance—you must question: can silence ever truly be a form of resistance? She warns, “When silence allows the practice to go unchallenged, it reinforces the assumption that FGM is a cultural tradition rather than a human rights violation.” This assertion challenges us to reflect on our roles in perpetuating or dismantling harmful norms.
The implications of FGM stretch far beyond individual pain. With over 200 million women and girls affected globally, the bulk of these cases are concentrated in Africa. The enormity of the issue is staggering; it is not merely a statistic, but a disheartening narrative repeated across generations. Each statistic represents a life altered, a potential for joy extinguished. A situation arises: how do we peel back the layers of cultural identity to foster a new narrative—one that is not steeped in trauma?
Reflecting on my own journey, I recall a vivid conversation I had with an elder in a small village. He spoke with reverence about tradition—its power and its pitfalls. “Tradition is a double-edged sword,” he said thoughtfully. “It anchors us, but it can also blind us.” His words lingered, illuminating the necessity of engaging critically with our histories. When we hold on to our traditions without scrutiny, we risk perpetuating cycles of violence against those who lack the agency to voice their dissent.
The emotional toll of FGM extends beyond the physical mutilation; it echoes through the psychological corridors of trauma, affecting mental health for years, if not decades. Survivors often bear the invisible scars of their experiences—anxiety, depression, and a fractured sense of self. This is far from the insidious sentiment that such acts are expressions of love or care within a family or community, as many perpetrators might claim. When asking ourselves what it means to show love, we must reconsider whether inflicting pain is ever truly a protective act.
To disentangle from the grips of this practice, community dialogues are essential. Challenging traditional norms does not mean obliterating culture; rather, it involves creating spaces for new interpretations and practices that honor the essence of community while safeguarding human rights. The courage to speak openly about FGM can transform silence into a powerful catalyst for change. As Mina highlights, addressing such issues with bold transparency reinforces the notion that cultural evolution is both possible and necessary.
As the conversation surrounding FGM continues to grow in visibility, champions of change are starting to emerge. Grassroots organizations and international coalitions are coming together, learning from one another and sharing strategies that have proven effective. In one inspiring initiative, women from different backgrounds banded together to educate young girls about their bodies, fostering self-empowerment and resilience against harmful practices. “Empowerment isn’t just about information, it’s about instilling pride and ownership over one’s body,” a facilitator declared during a workshop, resonating with anyone who has ever felt the weight of societal expectations.
This collective effort to dismantle FGM must resonate with broader discussions on women’s health and rights. As we forge ahead, integrating the voices of those most affected into the practice of policymaking becomes imperative. Survivor stories should guide legislation, ensuring that laws are not merely on the books but actively enforced, resonating with the real struggles women face. One might wonder, how can we stand in solidarity with women who have survived, yet feel like their voices are muffled under societal expectations? Listening is an essential first step.
Ultimately, the journey toward eradicating female genital mutilation in Sierra Leone—and around the world—requires an unwavering commitment to allyship, education, and advocacy. It is not just a fight for women’s autonomy; it is an integral battle for fundamental human rights that should resonate with us all. As we continue to unveil the layers of culture intertwined with suffering, we must find the courage to confront hard truths for the sake of future generations.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring
