Mam?

by Mia Nikasimo on October 30, 2011

in Black Feminism,Poetry,Queer Politics

“racism, classism, transphobia, homophobia and the internalised dimensions which perpetuates the “order of things”"

Either someone is feeding Dwayne Ameboman
Information or he hadn’t gone out all day today?

“Isn’t it my right to choose?” said Tanya Sea Warrior.
Defiantly she continued, “it is, isn’t it my right to
Choosing whether service providers called me “mam”
Or not. Saying, “please, do not call me mam,” was
For Tanya, a right to be her own person; no one’s pet.
Whether Dwayne and co bought it was their business
Tanya Sea Warrior had reason for her assertive, DON’T!
She had heard, “mam” and “man” intertwined in jest.
She wasn’t laughing. Watch Dwayne & co amuse was…
Objection to being called mam was out, permanently
Objection to being mammed was a transfeminist stance.
A glow came over Tanya Sea Warrior smiling to herself.

Mia Nikasimo (c) October 2011

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Conversation at the kitchen table

by Sokari on October 29, 2011

in African Women,Cleansing,Cool Stuff,Feminism

Words are in the face, the eyes, the smile, the hand…….

“Danger has been a part of my life ever since I picked up a pen and wrote. Nothing is more perilous than truth in a world that lies.”

Via Guerilla Mama

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Statement of African social justice activists on the decision of the British government to “cut aid” to African countries that violate the rights of LGBTI people in Africa

by Sokari on October 28, 2011

in Africa Politics,Gay Imperialism,Homonationalism,Queer Politics,Same Sex Marriage

British Prime Minister, David Cameron has warned his country would cut aid to countries in the global south that persecute LGBTI persons. Many of us believe this is an inappropriate response as stated in the statement below. ……

We, the undersigned African social justice activists, working to advance societies that affirm peoples’ differences, choice and agency throughout Africa, express the following concerns about the use of aid conditionality as an incentive for increasing the protection of the rights of LGBTI people on the continent.

It was widely reported, earlier this month, that the British Government has threatened to cut aid to governments of “countries that persecute homosexuals” unless they stop punishing people in same-sex relationships. These threats follow similar decisions that have been taken by a number of other donor countries against countries such as Uganda and Malawi. While the intention may well be to protect the rights of LGBTI people on the continent, the decision to cut aid disregards the role of the LGBTI and broader social justice movement on the continent and creates the real risk of a serious backlash against LGBTI people.

A vibrant social justice movement within African civil society is working to ensure the visibility of – and enjoyment of rights by – LGBTI people. This movement is made up of people from all walks of life, both identifying and non-identifying as part of the LGBTI community. It has been working through a number of strategies to entrench LGBTI issues into broader civil society issues, to shift the same-sex sexuality discourse from the morality debate to a human rights debate, and to build relationships with governments for greater protection of LGBTI people. These objectives cannot be met when donor countries threaten to withhold aid.

The imposition of donor sanctions may be one way of seeking to improve the human rights situation in a country but does not, in and of itself, result in the improved protection of the rights of LGBTI people. Donor sanctions are by their nature coercive and reinforce the disproportionate power dynamics between donor countries and recipients. They are often based on assumptions about African sexualities and the needs of African LGBTI people. They disregard the agency of African civil society movements and political leadership. They also tend, as has been evidenced in Malawi, to exacerbate the environment of intolerance in which political leadership scapegoat LGBTI people for donor sanctions in an attempt to retain and reinforce national state sovereignty.

Further, the sanctions sustain the divide between the LGBTI and the broader civil society movement. In a context of general human rights violations, where heterosexual women are almost as vulnerable as LGBTI people, or where health and food security are not guaranteed for anyone, singling out LGBTI issues emphasizes the idea that LGBTI rights are special rights and hierarchically more important than other rights. It also supports the commonly held notion that homosexuality is ‘unAfrican’ and a western-sponsored ‘idea’ and that countries like the UK will only act when ‘their interests’ have been threatened.

An effective response to the violations of the rights of LBGTI people has to be more nuanced than the mere imposition of donor sanctions. The history of colonialism and sexuality cannot be overlooked when seeking solutions to this issue. The colonial legacy of the British Empire in the form of laws that criminalize same-sex sex continues to serve as the legal foundation for the persecution of LGBTI people throughout the Commonwealth. In seeking solutions to the multi-faceted violations facing LGBTI people across Africa, old approaches and ways of engaging our continent have to be stopped. New ways of engaging that have the protection of human rights at their core have to recognize the importance of consulting the affected.

Furthermore, aid cuts also affect LGBTI people. Aid received from donor countries is often used to fund education, health and broader development. LGBTI people are part of the social fabric, and thus part of the population that benefit from the funding. A cut in aid will have an impact on everyone, and more so on the populations that are already vulnerable and whose access to health and other services are already limited, such as LGBTI people.,

To adequately address the human rights of LGBTI people in Africa, the undersigned social justice activists call on the British government to:

· Review its decision to cut aid to countries that do not protect LGBTI rights

· Expand its aid to community based and lead LGBTI programmes aimed at fostering dialogue and tolerance.

· Support national and regional human rights mechanisms to ensure the inclusiveness of LGBTI issues in their protective and promotional mandates

· Support the entrenchment of LGBTI issues into broader social justice issues through the financing of community lead and nationally owned projects

Contact Persons

Joel Gustave Nana, +27735045420, joel@amsher.net

SIGNATORIES

1. Organizations

ActionAid (Liberia)

African Men for Sexual Health and Rights – AMSHeR (Regional)

AIDS Legal Network (South Africa)

ARC EN CIEL + (Cote d’Ivoire)

Arc en Ciel d’Afrique (Canada)

Centre for Popular Education and human Rights – CEPEHRG (Ghana)

Coalition Against Homophobia in Ghana (Ghana)

Coalition of African Lesbians- CAL (Regional)

Engender (South Africa)

Evolve (Cameroon)

Face AIDS Ghana (Ghana)

Fahamu (Regional)

Freedom and Roam Uganda (Uganda)

Gay and Lesbian of Zimbabwe – GALZ (Zimbabwe)

Horizons Community Association (Rwanda)

House of Rainbow Fellowship – (Nigeria)

ICHANGE CI (Cote d’Ivoire)

Identity Magazine (Kenya)

IGLHRC Africa (Regional)

Ishtar MSM (Kenya)

Justice for Gay Africans (Diaspora)

LEGABIBO (Botswana)

Let Good Be Told In us (LGBTI) Nyanza and Western coalition of Kenya (Kenya)

Most at Risk Populations’ Society In Uganda (UGANDA)

Mouvement pour les Libertes Individuelles – MOLI (Burundi)

My Rights (Rwanda)

Network against violence, abuse, discrimination and stigma-Africa (Regional)

Nyanza and Western LGBTI Coalition of Kenya (Kenya)

Other Sheep Afrika (Kenya)

Outright Namibia

Pan Africa ILGA (Regional)

PEMA Kenya

Queer African Youth Center Network QAYN – (Sub-regional – West Africa)

Rainbow Candle Light (Burundi)

Reseau Camerounais des Personnes Vivant avec le VIH – Recap+ (Cameroon)

Riruta United Women Empowerment Programme (Kenya)

Sexual Minorities Uganda (Uganda)

Si Jeunesse Savait (Democratic Republic of Congo)

South African National AIDS Council – LGBT sector

Spectrum Uganda Initiatives – (Uganda)

Stay Alive Self Help Group (Kenya)

Stop Aids In Liberia

The Initiative for Equal Rights (TIER) – Nigeria

The International Center for Advocacy on the Rights to Health -ICARH (Nigeria)

The Lesbian and Gay Equality Project (South Africa)

Together for Women’s Rights ASBL (Burundi)

Treatment Action Campaign (South Africa)

Triangle Project (South Africa)

UHAI-the East African Sexual Health and Rights Initiative (Sub-regional -East Africa)

Vision Spring Initiatives

West African Treatment Action Group (Sub-regional – West Africa)

Women Working with Women (Kenya)

Youth Focus (Uganda)

2. Individuals

Angus Parkinson (British Citizen, Kenyan Resident)

Anne Baraza (Kenya

Anthony Adero (Kenya)

Ayesha Imam (Nigeria)

Barbra Muruga (Kenya)

Bernedette Muthien (South Africa)

Blessed B Rwomushana(Uganda)

Blessol gathoni (Kenya)

Brian Kanyemba (Zimbabwe)

Carine Geoffrion (Ghana)

Carlos Idibouo (Cote d’Ivoire)

Charles Gueboguo (Cameroon)

Chesterfield Samba (Zimbabwe)

Christian Rumu – (Burundi)

Cynthia Ndikumana (Burundi)

Cyriaque Ako (Cote d’Ivoire)

Daniel Peter Onyango (Kenya)

Daniel Peter Onyango (Kenya)

Danilo da Silva (Mozambique)

Denis Nzioka (Kenya)

Desire Kavutse (Rwanda)

Douglas Masinde (Kenya)

Esther Adhiambo(Kenya)

Francoise Mukuku (DRC)

Frank Mugisha (Uganda)

Friedel Dausab (Namibia)

Gathoni Blessol (Kenya)

Geogina Adhiambi (Kenya)

Hakima Abbas (UK/Egypt)

Hameeda Deedat (South Africa)

Happy Kinyili (Kenya)

Ifeany Orazulike (Nigeria)

Jacqueline N Mulucha (Uganda)

Jane Bennett (Cape Town)

Jayne Annot (South Africa)

Jessica Horn (Uganda/UK)

Joel Gustave Nana – (Cameroon)

Johanna Kehler (South Africa)

Joseph Sewedo Akoro (Nigeria)

Julius Kaggwa (Uganda)

Julius Kyaruzi (Tanzania)

Kamariza Sandrine (Burundi)

Kasha Jacqueline (Uganda)

Keguro Macharia (Kenya)

Kene Esom (Nigeria)

Korto Williams – Liberia

Lillian Kwagala (Uganda)

Linda Baumann (Namibia)

Lourence Misedah (Kenya)

Mariam Armisen (Burkina Faso)

Marieme Helie-Lucas (Algeria)

Mia Nikasimo (African Diaspora)

Mmapaseka Steve Letsike (South Africa)

Mombo Ngua (Kenya)

Mwangi Forsyth-Githahu (Kenya)

Ndifuna Ukwazi (South Africa)

Ndikumana Pierre Celestin (Rwanda)

Ngozi Nwosu – Juba (Nigeria)

Nguru Karugu (Kenya)

Nicholas Mutisya Muema (Kenya)

Nicole Khanali (Kenya)

Olivier Irogo (Cameroon)

Paden Edmund (Tanzania)

Peter Wanyama (Kenya)

Phumi Mtetwa (South Africa)

Pouline kimani,Udada kenya

Prof J Oloka-Onyango (Uganda)

Prof Sylvia Tamale (Uganda)

Rena Otieno (Kenya)

Rowland Jide Macaulay (Nigeria)

Samuel Ganafa (Uganda)

Samuel Matsikure (Zimbabwe)

Sandrine Kamariza (Burundi)

Sibongile Ndashe (South Africa)

Sokari Ekine (Nigeria)

Solomon Wambua

Sserwanga James (Uganda)

Stanley Muiga Wangari (Kenya)

Steave Nemande (Cameroon)

Stephen McGill (Liberia)

Thomas Mukasa (Uganda)

Tony Gatore (Burundi)

Wanja Muguongo (Kenya)

Wendy Isaack (South Africa)

Zawadi Nyong’o (Kenya)

Zeitun Mohamed Haret

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How I Earned the Right to Speak about Anything

by Emmanuel Iduma on October 24, 2011

in Africa - Creative Arts,African History,Books: Non-Fiction,E-Books,Literature,Social Media

It is hard, as I am sure most writers know, to efface the person, render it impotent in the face of the writing life. Who I am always haunts my writing; and this is why and how I argue that I have earned the right to speak about anything – and you might want to consider this word ‘right’ as encompassing as it is in the legal regime. To make this process easier (this essay is a process, every word builds into revelation), I have charted two layers: Identity and Ethnicity. You might have to be dishonest with me – you might have to forgive how I render myself so bare; all writers eventually do this, pushing themselves, in fiction, in poetry, to the place where there’s no telling what is reality and what is not, because everything is reality, everything written is real. Helene Cixous says this of Clarice Lispector, for instance.

I should give a background. I was born to an itinerant preacher – when I was born my Daddy was an employee of the Scripture Union, an interdenominational organization with offices around the world. His job description was ‘Travelling Secretary’; clearly, he ‘traveled.’ So, I begin my questioning from this point – I was born fluid; I was not to stay too long in one place, my Present was always in motion.

Of identity, I ask myself: Am I or aren’t I? How do I begin to define myself? What is the crack in the surface in which Me leaps into visibility? You should know that I do not feel Ibo enough, because I can’t speak the language well, because I respond in English when my Daddy speaks to me in Ibo. So, I am not keen to identify myself as This or That. In my case, there is no This, and no That. Perhaps it’s a This-That.

Which is why, in December 2009, when we were moving again, I wrote: ‘Who am I, after this transition?’ I cannot think this irrelevant – I am a borderline person. I have transited too much to be just one person. It is simply a question of identifying myself. What I want is to be able to say, This is Me, when a million others stand beside me, with me, in a crowd. So far, I should tell you, it has been difficult.

The antonym of ‘easy’, Anne Berger says, is not ‘difficult’. It is ‘impossible.’ If then it is not easy to define myself, is it perhaps impossible? Will I, as I remain on the border of who I am and who I can be and who I am meant to be, never identify myself in the crowd? I cannot tell if this is a shared feeling – but when I am in Ile-Ife I am not Yoruba, and when I am in Umuahia, I am not Ibo. I am simply, perhaps, Emmanuel, a person, but not the kind of person who feels ‘Emmanuel’ enough. Not inferiority, of course. It has never been a question of being less; perhaps it is that I am not ‘more’ enough, that I have ascribed too much to Being, and I am yet to meet up with that definition.

Speaking of Ethnicity might make this clearer. You see, I am an English-only onye Ibo who can comprehend Ibo spoken at any speed but is reluctant to utter any word of it, for fear of sounding incorrect. In fact I can comprehend Ehugbo, the language of Afikpo, which Ibos from other parts cannot comprehend. My Daddy wanted us to speak English first, in Akure, because he feared that we might become mischievous urchins, too ‘local’ in an urban space. So, we lapsed into an Anglo-consciousness. I do not blame him; I should not blame him. You want to blame him? English is a ‘lingua franca’, isn’t it? He remembers being mocked when he was a little boy of his inability to speak English – he remembers desiring to speak English like his brother.

But I realize that no matter how loaded, conflicted and difficult the word may seem to me, I am Ibo. By heritage. Perhaps there is some new meaning I can confer to it. I am, like, Carmen Wong, “A mishmash and hodgepodge of conundrums and contradictions.” I am ready to stay hyphenated, to add a dash to my personality, something like ‘English-only-onye-Ibo.’

Let’s imagine that there are others like me. Let’s further imagine that these others are – because this is the occupation dearest to my heart – writers. What will happen to their writing? Will it embody the same mishmash of their borderline personalities? How will they speak true to their sense of ethnicity? What home could they define for themselves, what sense of place?

Yes, I speak about myself, asking questions that bother my art. And there’s a sense of urgency, too. There is, for instance, a Facebook identity, a Twitter narrative, the acculturation that comes from being an internet user. Should we only consider the internet as utility, not as lifestyle? Isn’t the internet a border, a separate identity, part of the dashes I’ve acquired?

I’ve decided to be a writer, which in itself is an acceptance of the Borderline, an acceptance of staying a hybrid, remaining fluid, accepting that one word cannot define your process, your heritage. How do I come to the point where I am not simply termed as an ‘African writer’? I do not fear this label because I am not from Africa, or not black, or because Africa has been derogatorily called blah blah blah. I fear it because it is, somewhat, a closed parenthesis. I want to work within an open parenthesis. I want my definition to start from ‘an English-only-learning to speak Ibo-onye Ibo-internet-using writer’ with a […] around the term, leaving space for more dashes. Because I am always more; and my writing will always be bothered with this More-ness.

Hence, it is this fact that gives me the right to plunge into uncharted courses, to use unused language, to speak about anything, because there is nothing like This or That in my head. There is the possibility of everything and anything.

But this is not, cannot be, the subject of a single post. I’ll publish a Kindle e-book with the same title in January 2012. I hope my ranting is heard.

 

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Japan to donate food from Fukushima region to global south countries

by Sokari on October 24, 2011

in Action Alert,Disasters,Environment,The World,Waste

NHK [Japan National Broadcasting] reported that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is proposing to purchase industrial and canned fish products from disaster hit areas, Fukushima, Miyagi, Iwate as “a means to tackle harmful rumor against their products”. The Ministry applied for a budget $65 million for this purpose under overseas development aid[ODA]. These products have a high risk of being contaminated yet the Japanese government are intending to send them to countries in the global south! Not done with killing their own people they now want to spread their nuclear death under the disguise of aid – in other words kill and make even more people really sick!

Six days after the Fukushima diaster the Japanese government increased the allowable limit of radiation for water and other drinks to 200Bq/cesium. In the US the limit is 0.111 Bq/litre and the WHO standard 10 Bq/L – I dont know what these figures mean but there is a huge gap between 200 and 10 and 0.11. In addition families who wish to evacuate from outside of the supposedly safe area have to finance themselves and since most cannot afford to do so they are forced to remain. Karori Izumi of “Shut Tomari” and “Save Fukushima Children – Hokkaido” comments on the present state of the Fukushima region and demands that children be allowed to evacuate the contaminated areas plus the shut down of all 10 nuclear power plants…

Our country and we are are contaminated with fallouts , nuclear waste, contaminated water and food, and now our government is trying to contaminate people in developing countries under a name of “developing aid”. Please note that 3400 teraBq contaminated water was discharged from Fukushima Daiichi to the sea by the end of May, affecting all living creatures in the sea. Radiation does not respect national boundaries.

Our government does not let Fukushima children evacuate, exposing them to high level of radiation, and furthermore they are now trying to contaminate people and children in developing countries with contaminated food and industrial goods under ODA, using Japanese tax payers money. This is totally unacceptable. There are several specific claims and petitions to be put forward and separate actions to be taken during the sit in. Stop sending contaminated food under ODA is one of them.

For more on the contamination of food see here.

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Jean Binta Breeze – for the women who didn’t make it

by Sokari on October 22, 2011

in Action Alert,Black Britain,Caribbean,Militarism,Poetry

 

 

Jamaican British dub poet Jean Binta Breeze –  from “The THIRD WORLD GIRL: SELECTED POEMS”, a book with DVD published by Bloodaxe Books

 

Via Travelling Light

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A woman who walks through the yam field

by Sokari on October 22, 2011

in Literature,Nigeria

I just discovered poems and short stories on Guernica – here is one from Chinua Achebe which he adapted from Chike and the River. Like many of Achebe’s stories it has the usual assortment of Igbo proverbs. This one ends with the saying….

A man who can walk through the Nkisa with his bare feet should not be afraid to sail the Niger in a boat.

So I came up with my own equivalent after imagining myself walking through the forest.

“A woman who walks through the yam field at night should not fear the tall grass in the day “

Those who answered to Abraham

After the incident of the leopard skin Chike lost some of his eagerness for crossing the Niger. He did not see how he could obtain one shilling without stealing or begging. His only hope now was that some kind benefactor might give him a present of one shilling without his begging for it. But where was such a man, he wondered. Perhaps the best thing was to take his mind off the River Niger altogether; but it was not easy.
On the last day of term, all the pupils were tidying up the school premises. The boys cut the grass in the playing fields and the girls washed the classrooms. Chike’s class was working near the mango tree with all the tempting ripe fruit which they were forbidden to pick. They sang an old prisoners’ work song and swung their blades to its beat. The last day of term was always a happy, carefree day; but it was also a day of anxiety because the results of the term’s examination would be announced. Still an examination was an examination and nobody liked to fail….The story continues

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Evelyn Apoko, LRA survivor bears witness

by Sokari on October 20, 2011

in African Women,Militarism,Religion,sexual violence,Uganda

Evelyn Apoko survived the Lords Resistance Army [LRA]. Here she responds to those who are stupidly misinformed and who have criticised President Obama’s decision to deploy 100 US troops to try to end the LRA’s war and capture Joseph Kony.    Whatever we may think about foreign military interventions and in this case what could turn out to be yet  another US execution on foreign soil, Evelyn’s testimony and  pleas for help in ending the 23 year old war in which thousands upon thousands of children have been abducted and tortured, villages ransacked and women raped and people killed, cannot and should not be ignored. The LRA’s war takes place in Uganda and crosses borders into Southern Sudan, the Central African Republic [where Kony is suspected as hiding] and the DRC. The most recent deployment of troops by Obama is not the first US involvement in the war. In 2008 the US have provided intelligence and logistical support in the DRC and though this officially ended in 2009 it is believed the support continued unofficially. Though from time to time there are short reports on the LRA the war takes place outside of the media limelight and it is hard to believe that any serious effort has ever been made on the part of Uganda, the DRC, the AU or the UN to protect civilians and put an end to the war. Increased militarisation may have some short term impact however as this statement by “Defence Professionals” shows it is doubtful that this latest US intervention will be any more successful than the last.

The task will not be easy. One of the consequences of Operation Lightning Thunder was that the LRA scattered into smaller groups, making them much more difficult to track down. Kony himself is believed to be operating in the Central African Republic. The groups have discarded any communication equipment that would allow them to be traced and instead rely on runners to relay messages. In addition, the LRA is a hardened guerilla force used to operating in difficult terrain. It has survived against the odds for a quarter of a century. U.S. policymakers and military planners emphasize that there is no quick fix to ending the scourge of the LRA and that even the death or capture of Kony and his senior commanders may not be sufficient to finish off the group unless broader efforts are made to address the grievances that caused it to form in the first place.

New strategies have to be found starting above all else with increased efforts to protect civilians and to engage more forcefully with local religious leaders, civil society organisations and traditional leaders including the voices of survivors like Evelyn Apoko.

Evelyn Apoko is 22 years old, but she was only a child when the Lord’s Resistance Army came into her home late one night and dragged her out into the jungle. The LRA, a bizarre and violent cult that emerged out of Uganda’s 1986 civil war, enslaved Evelyn as they had the 66,000 children that came before and after her.

Most children who are abducted by the LRA are forced to either fight, aid in fighting, or serve as concubines. Evelyn does not say what happened during her years of enslavement with the LRA, but, one day, a bomb went off near her during one of the battles that are a regular part of the group’s life. She attempted to protect an infant that was with the group, in the process exposing her face to the blast, which disfigured her. Denied medical care and fearing that she would be killed for her unattractive appearance, Evelyn escaped, miraculously making it through the jungle on foot and alone.

Today she is a fellow with a Liberia-based non-profit called the Strongheart Fellowship Program, which rehabilitates young people from what it calls “extremely challenging circumstances.” Last year, she was honored on the floor of the Canadian parliament for her work.

Dear Mr. Limbaugh: Evelyn’s Appeal from Strongheart on Vimeo.

{ 5 comments }

Isolation

by Mia Nikasimo on October 19, 2011

in Cis-Gender,Poetry,Transexual,Transgender

As in isolation, imprisonment by proxy, intimidation,
Harassment, daily chatter about how much tax is
Siphooned off, sitting around, lazing around, aground
As on run aground off the back of a Tsunami, living in;

Isolated then, living in, working out my next move, work?
Writing is work. Overtaken by cissexual animosities voiced
Rolled out when I’m in the bath, while seated on a sweeky
Settee sweeking every time I shift announcing me: “in!”

As in isolation, that self-preserving stay in, engineered living
In order to stay alive, my visibility or the knowledge of me
Was enough to start a communal war of attrition, ongoing.
Cowardice augurs them on, courageous voicings and a lack.

Slack, limited reach is not, can never be a standard space
Truth is relative, never, never absolute since humanoid
In the virtuality of its projections cannot fix diversity in
It’s own image, the absolute, if it exists, is beyond, beyond;

Isolation as in staying in, living in, imprisoned for survival.
Transsexual, genderqueer, lesbian just me, condemned,
Condemned to listening to people’s fears of the unknown:
“It works,” shouts an in-person (male), “didn’t you hear her?”

What’s not to live in for, to cause isolation but this blow:
Mothers pushing their children forward say it now: “man!”
Said a confused child pointing at obvious men. “Not them!”
Said the mother, aiming, aiming, aiming, “now!” “Ban!”

Too late but it didn’t stop the jolting feeling as the door closed
How do you talk to an Asiatic woman teaching hatred
Behind the guise of teaching her, teaching kids so narrowly
We wonder how neighbourhoods spawn bombers were born?

Do I call the police? Do I stare into the shy wondering sky?
This is a taint of migration left out of proper media speak.
Left out even by tight lipped politicians eager to be in step.
Left out even by police: “keep a diary, keep a diary,” laughing.

As in isolation. Don’t ask. You played your part, pandering
To the democratic whim in the name of “freedom of speech”
“Old woman, you talk too much. List-ten to me first, list-ten”.
Deepening my pain, intimidating, imprisoning, belittling, see?

Mia Nikasimo (c) October 2011

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Did they entrust fillet to the dogs?

by Rumbidzai Dube on October 17, 2011

in Africa Politics,Governance,Guest Blogger,Social Justice Links,Social Movements

Dogs eat meat- that is a fact. When you serve them with fillet, they eat it all because it is a steak and tender and afterwards nothing remains; not a trace that in that plate once lay a piece of meat. But when you serve them meat with bones, they eat all the meat and leave the bones. After their meal you can salvage the bones remaining. I am sitting here in Cairo International Airport waiting to board my plane home and wondering if the situation I am leaving behind in Egypt resembles the case of a dog entrusted with priced meat.

It is fact, militaries are powerful and they thrive on that power. States that are weak militarily are scoffed upon hence the mockery directed towards the Ottoman Empire (now Turkey in the 20th Century) as “The weak men of Europe”. In a democracy, the power of the military is measured in comparison to their military power against other nations’ military power. However when that power gains excess domestically and the military is involved in politics, the might of the military is exercised against a nation of unarmed, defenceless civilians. The result will be something quite similar to serving a dog with fillet- where you are left with nothing to salvage.

I came to Egypt a couple of months after the Revolution. I found in Egypt a nation hopeful, eager and ready for change and for transformation. I leave behind a nation in a state of comatose, a depressed youth, heartbroken and growing more and more agitated as the Egyptian army displays itself for what it really is…just another brutal, African army that follows its interests and not those of the people it pledged to protect. The nation is reeling from the shock of their experiences and every individual has had to confront the reality that activism and the fight for a democratic Egypt can be attained at the cost of their own lives. The people believed that given its history, the Egyptian army would set a precedent of leading a successful transition but how can the transition succeed when the guarantours of its success are sabotaging it. Or are they?

On the day of the Maspero massacres (the death of 26 political activists and injury of 300 other at the hands of the military forces in front of Maspero-the state television building in Cairo as they were protesting the burning of a Coptic Church in Merinab Village, Aswan-Upper Egypt) Egypt woke up and it was just another Sunday, another day in the lives of a great nation that is charting its own history towards freedom, dignity and equality.

When the demonstration also started it was just another protest; as has been the culture since the January 25 Revolution. The procession began in Shubra and continued all the way to Maspero. Little did the protestors know that just a mere few hours away 26 of them would be dead, 300 injured and many of them would lose a friend, a sister, a brother, a daughter and a son at the hands of the army that the people entrusted with their ticket to democracy.
[click to continue…]

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