Celebrating womanhood the modern way
Most
books on gender debate revolve around the axle of imbalance in the way men and
women relate to one another, in their division of labour, including sharing the
products of that labour, such as property, and these books further declare that
whereas women are part of division of labour, there’s discrimination in distributing
the fruits. This is what Margaret Ogola tackles in her works, especially the
novel The River and the
Source but
adds a few tinges of the impacts of colonialism along these gender lines.
She
bases her characters on theoretical framework and what we as a society have
upheld from time immemorial. She delves deep into the mind concept of a woman
(based on ideas) against the societal definition. And therefore, while the
image of a woman is celebrated, that of man is trounced in the text, defeating
the balance equation she set to address, because the typical men presented
suffer greatly—as head of the family, commander, or dictator. This is the
shortfall reflected in the text, against the perspective of gender equality
(awareness) and mocks such a ‘lovely book
on gender equality, just waiting to be read’ as one publisher poured it
praises.
Ogola’s
premise is the ageing tradition that most—if not all—societies in the world are
patriarchal in nature, and culturally excludes women in important matters. Her
Luo community is not different because in the private sphere, it not only restricts
the woman to the family domain, where she devotes herself to family cooking and
taking care of basic needs, but also in the public sphere, as demonstrated in
Achebe’s things fall
apart, the Ibo woman was
not considered a decision maker. For example, when Mama Nwonna asks, ‘is he
(the visitor) staying with us long?’ Her husband’s rhetoric reply, ‘when did
you become an elder of Umuofia?’ says it all. This discrimination is present in
all areas of her life—be it economic activities or in the politics. Patriarchy
in Ogola’s Luo community is exemplified in the extreme Otieno’s bigotry, and
it’s nothing short of chauvinism.
The
text intends to address this imbalance by extolling Wandia, Becky, and Vera
(her heroines) to the public sphere, against the basic idea that a woman
belongs only at home. The three break this patriarchical tradition by
multi-tasking—combining both domestic chores and scaling high in public
affairs, all at the same time, a change due to the new circumstances, Becky as
a flight attendant and Wandia as professor.
This
rapid transformation is what Akoko, the main heroine, seems unable to
comprehend. Ogola indicates that changes have become necessary and tracing
Akoko’s lineage, she attempts to review a woman’s status from time immemorial,
from socialisation and serious obstacles that curtailed the freedom of women,
and which society needs to review again. She performs surgery to the
traditional society with view of healing gender inequality.
But
the quest is not ‘balanced’ objectively as gender perspective must deal with
both men and women. There’s an imbalanced equation within the characters: ‘Female-feminine-feminist’ on one side, pitted
against ‘Male-masculine-???’ on the
other, and does not result in a healthy socialisation. Feminism as a political
movement (and advocacy for women’s rights) bases certain principals and
theories (at times not more than propaganda). She bends socialisation—being not
a biological factor—towards the Marxist feminism direction whereas gender, at
least according to Oxford Dictionary, should imply both man and woman.
There
are more opportunities for women to participate in bigger things of life so as
to persuade society that a woman too, can do it. By combining roles, Wandia and
Elizabeth for instance, fight for their own rights at different stages and
levels, although Elizabeth’s son has problems only his daddy can ‘solve’, a
hint to socialise feminist-leaning character the role first, as a parent, and
two as a professional that cooperation between man and woman—combined
efforts—is required, not feminist (woman centred) or male patriarchy.
Matriarchy and patriarchy is a harmful cultural double-edged sword.
Does
she remove discriminatory traditional practises and redeem her work from being
insensitively harmful to gender balance? The answer is partly an affirmative,
by creating opportunities and crises to force society to view property
ownership as not forced by nature, but through awareness, education and/or
religion, tolerance is possible. This is the part where both genders shout an affirmative
aye to ‘Yes We Can!’ declaration.
Like
Martin and Pamela in Marjorie Oludhe MacGoye’s Coming to Birth, there’s a sign of
emerging understanding and amicable relations between the sexes. Mark abandons
his wife only to feel so lonely, comes back to them and they negotiate to
settle in the leafy part of town where their children train and later work. New
values, norms, taboos, etc are born. Housework, previously female work is tested
by inter-cultural influences—another kind of socialisation stimulated by new
environment and a new woman emerges.
The
boundary, she seems to say, of earning a living according to gender lines would
fade as society progresses. We trace Akoko’s ancestry and see this
juxtaposition of how Ogola handles history and gender politics—diffusing the
boundary between gender perspective by combining tradition society and the
contemporary sphere. Things have changed a lot since1902, when the East African
Railway reached Kisumu.
Akoko
sought to address certain traditional issues (through subtle language and
style) to contemporary Nairobi, which is still preoccupied by these petty
boundaries created over time. In her bid though, she overly amplifies and
overrates the woman—the story’s plot starts from her grandmother (The Source) through her mother’s (The River) narration and seems to
suggest it’s the story of the mothers—no fathers mentioned!
To
give the devil his due, I’ll be quick to point out that I didn’t achieve a
restructure of the text in my attempts to arrest the beauty of gender equality.
©Roundsquare
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