EPISODE 1 – DE GENESIS

LYDIA

When Lydia finally decided to step out of the house it was past noon, but she already held dear a strong belief; nothing good could come of this day. She had slept in peace and woken up in pain. One would think she should have been used to the unwelcome, regular visitor by now but, with her menstrual pains come a new wave of shock and despair. Lightheaded and with heavy limbs, she dragged herself off the bed, wrapped her tangled hair in a distasteful scarf and headed down the street to visit her friend. Only Rumi would understand her misery. She paid no attention to the countless turns of heads in her direction. ‘I must look really terrible’ she thought and gave a slight chuckle. Not that she cared.

The moment Rumi saw Lydia, she knew what was happening and burst into laughter. Rumi, Lydia’s best friend, was in the same confused early twenties age range as her friend, just taller, prettier and with the perfect sense of fashion according to Lydia. The two had met in their second year in the university and have been inseparable ever since.

“You look like hell hun” Rumi said.

“I feel like hell” Lydia replied. “I wouldn’t wish female on anybody, not even my worst enemy!” she said as she flung herself on the laid down mattress on the floor. Rumi put some water in the kettle, placed it on the stove and turned the burner on. Then she made her way to sit on the bed next to Lydia, gently placing her friend’s head on her laps. “You’ll be fine babe” she cooed softly for the next few minutes. As the loud hiss of the kettle broke the tranquil, Rumi stood to fill the hot water bottle and passed it to Lydia who gladly placed it on her lower abdomen. “So, tell me, how many people are we apologising to this time?” Rumi asked. It is not news that when her usual cranky mode is activated, no one is spared its intense ferocity; not her mum, her big brother, her lecturers back then, or that thug that was close to sending her to an early grave one time. No one!

“I’m really tired Rumi, and frustrated too! I can’t even point out exactly what’s wrong or why I’m so angry, but I just think the world is not fair to us women. I mean, it’s always one thing or the other; if we’re not being cheated out of job offers and promotions; we’re being groped in public spaces, or just assumed to be weak and incapable beings. To top everything up, we offer up our blood like sacrifice every freaking month!” Lydia yelled. Rumi was quite taken aback by the sudden outburst but wasn’t much surprised by it. She had always been the levelheaded of the duo, so she listened to her friend rant, and heard the things she wasn’t even saying.

“I understand you perfectly dear,” Rumi started to say “it’s a real issue if we’re being honest… So, why don’t we do something about it? Sometimes, we can be quite confident about matters we know close to nothing about: ‘Ignorance on fire’ as they call it, and we get carried away. It never ceases to amaze me, especially on the issues of the female gender and our role in the society, how actually clueless we can be. So, let’s be deliberate about it, do a valid research and get things right in our own little way”.

“Hmmm, you just might have a point” Lydia said and nodded slightly. “How are you always smarter and know exactly what to say?” she smiled as she returned her head to Rumi’s laps and relaxed. She felt better. Rumi gets her and she was grateful for the gift of friendship. Rumi stroked her hair and said, “At least we know now, what’s bothering you is beyond period pains” and they both laughed.

“Let us go on this little expedition into the root of our problems. Whatever we find may do us all a lot of good”. Lydia said.

“I’m in! Let us however discuss it better over lunch on Friday when you’re in a better mood. For now, there’s this really awesome movie I want us to see”.

“Yay! Netflix and chill with boo” Lydia squealed and hugged Rumi tightly.

“Take it easy girl. I’m not your boyfriend”. Rumi’s said.

And so, it begins….

My name is Lydia and I am embarking on a deep search to figure out underlying truths about women, especially the black woman. The origin of certain notions and concepts tied to the female gender and melanin-rich skin. The ideas that have been crafted, propagated, modified with age, worn with pride (or not), and passed on for generations. Do we stink of insecurities or are we really victims of the society? Why do we feel insecure about almost everything? From our positions and respect in the society, to our bodies; the colour of our skin and nappy hair which steer us to opt for more western alternatives?

‘Angry Black Woman!’, why do we even have such a term? Why are we often perceived as angry, ill-mannered and aggressive?

With the rise of women empowerment projects globally in the last few decades, a new wave of feminism began. What is the agenda of the modern-day feminist? Do men have a role to play in any of it? Or do we just prefer a world without men?

‘Men and women should be equal’.  In what way? Biologically, socially or otherwise?

Hearing the tales of great women like Moremi Ajasoro of Ile-Ife, Queen Amina of Zaria, Yaa Asantewaa of Ashanti region, Miriam Makeba of South Africa, the first Iyalojas, and others who even till date, have so much influence and impact in society, I am left to wonder…. ‘How did these women become so powerful amidst the able-bodied men of their day and not live as the subservient beings we are told was prominent in that era?’

The questions are numerous, the road to discovery undoubtedly long, and I especially am hungry for answers and results. I dedicate myself to the search, so that what is shared is based more on fact than fiction. What I want is for the woman, the black woman in particular, to have a good understanding of her roots and initial identity, the order of events leading to her present reality, her role in the home and society, and how she can eventually become the best version of herself in all ramifications.

If really we have been wronged and had the opportunities to rise into full-fledged fulfilled beings snatched from us by patriarchy or otherwise, making us less powerful to be all we can be, I would love to know when and how it happened. Is there a need to fight? If yes, we can collectively take up the issue and ‘fight’ right. Only then would our efforts not be channeled amiss.

I would love you to join me on this journey so we do not take what has been fed to us from all sides at face value, but rather think deeply and search widely for what the truth is, and what the lie has been. Only then can we become true Confident Black Women.

Sound like a plan? Your contributions in the form of questions, answers and comments on all the subjects that will be discussed here are highly welcome.

As the start of this community, what would you say are the problems of black women? Kindly drop your thoughts.

                                                                                                                                Aspiring CBW