The regal woman…

Once upon a time, when I worked in Bulawayo as a reporter, a friend who was based in Harare visited on business and we met briefly over coffee.

Closeup image of a couple people clinking coffee cups together in cafe. Adobe Stock image.

We met in the late morning, during working hours, so the place was not bustling as usual, although the ambience was pleasant and the atmosphere was relaxed.

After placing our orders and paying at the counter, we took our seats. As we settled, I couldn’t help but notice the woman sitting across from us, a few tables away. There was a regal air about her. She had a smooth dark ebony complexion and a narrow angular face with finely chiseled features framed and complimented by a short, close-cropped afro. Although she was sitting, I could tell she was tall and slim. Adorned in a bright yellow rib-patterned, close-fitting woollen dress with spaghetti straps, she looked like a finely sculpted work of art as she stared nonchalantly into space, deep in thought and oblivious of the attention she was drawing.

I was drawn to her because apart from her beauty and style, she exuded confidence and power – qualities I admired and aspired to in my youth. There was an air of authority about her and as a young feminist, I couldn’t help but admire her.

I drew my friend’s attention to her and was shocked by her reaction. “She’s a prostitute,” my friend remarked dismissively. The words rolled off her tongue with such ease. “Really? How do you know and where do you know her from?” I asked. I don’t remember the answer, if it came at all because our order arrived, and our attention was diverted to food and catching up. I found it hard to believe that the woman was a prostitute then and I still don’t believe it.

Verbally abused at the gym…

A decade later, I decided to take charge of my health and fitness, so I enrolled in a gym and hired a personal trainer. The gym also hosted a cricket club with a programme that occasionally brought in children from disadvantaged communities to learn and play cricket while scouting for talent. I did not know about this programme, until one day, when my trainer left me to run around the field. As I ran, I heard children’s voices shouting excitedly. At first, I could not make out what they were shouting as they were across the sprawling field, but when I drew closer I realized, much to my chagrin, that the shouts were directed at me, the only black woman on that field. The children were shouting “hure” (whore in Shona).  I had to run around the entire field several times and although some white women came and left, I remained behind, still running, and that is when it became clear that I was the sole target of the insults. The children did not know me and I certainly did not know them, but I was struck and pained by how easy it was for them to see a black woman and comfortably shout obscenities.

It was an expensive gym in a wealthy suburb, so my presence implied a certain income level. Clearly, these children were not aware that women who looked like them, or me, could be economically empowered and seemed to assume that the only source of income was from selling their bodies, hence the assumption that the only black woman they saw was a prostitute.

I was torn between reporting the incident and letting it go. Rather than escalate and cost the children an opportunity, I chose to tell my trainer who promised to have the matter addressed without disadvantaging the children.

The shock of that verbal assault has never quite left me. I often wonder, why is it so easy and comfortable for people to insult women who fall within a particular demographic?  

Abuse of women candidates during elections…

A few more years later, in 2018 our country, Zimbabwe, held elections as it often does every five years in line with the dictates of the demands of a certain type of democracy.

Zimbabwean politician Priscilla Misihairabwi wearing a sweater with the word “hure” inscribed. Image source: Zwnews.com.

The treatment of women candidates and those who chose to express themselves during that election was brutal. Again, the word, “hure” surfaced in reference to women.  Candidates, commentators, bloggers, journalists, and all women who dared to raise their voices were labelled “hure.” I too, got my share of the labelling on social media when I expressed my opinion. Prominent figures got the worst as they were labelled across platforms. One presidential candidate had the label and other obscenities hurled at her in court.

Unlike the regal woman at the coffee shop and I, the women politicians embraced the label and continued with their campaigns. They even printed the word on T-shirts and sweaters that they wore with pride. An insult, once disregarded or embraced, loses its power. These powerful women flipped the script by taking the insults in their stride and turning lemons into lemonade.

Why are women with these qualities such a threat…?

Apart from the demographic they belong to, all the women mentioned in this post epitomized certain qualities. Ambition, authority, beauty, confidence, independence, intelligence and power. All these are revered in men, yet, when they were exhibited by a certain kind of women, there was a backlash!

The question is, why is it so difficult to accept these qualities in women of a particular demographic? It’s time to reflect and deal with deep-seated patriarchal and misogynistic attitudes that undermine and oppress certain groups of women because there will be limited progress as long as women face any form of oppression.

As Thomas Sankara once said:  “We do not talk of women’s emancipation as an act of charity or out of a surge of human compassion. It is a basic necessity for the revolution to triumph. Women hold up the other half of the sky.” We all know for a fact, he was referring to women within this particular demographic.