What a Day. And not in a good way. I was hit with the horrible traditional mindset today that disables this country, and most of Africa. It started, very early, with a casual discussion with the headmaster at the school where we are carrying out the sex education talks. We were killing time waiting for the translator. I decided to take the opportunity to broach the subject of corporal punishment with him as it is practiced at the school. Teachers walk around with slim pieces of bamboo and shake it at the kids to move them along. One teacher even has two that he taps together constantly. The kids visibly cower at the sight of them.
Anyway, so, I dove into the subject with as much gusto and optimism as with everything else. I had even more hope since I was talking to the headmaster that had asked us to do the sex ed talks. He even allowed us to talk about condoms (which I took as total free reign and have been showing the kids how to use one on a cucumber). I soon discovered though that he considered corporal punishment as not only one option for discipline, but the only way to discipline. As I struggled to make my case, he interrupted me almost as soon as I had opened my mouth so it was difficult, he had a stupid smile and expression of amusement at what I was saying (typical in men of power here). He did most of the talking and I caught him in numerous contradictions but, even still, there was no movement on his behalf to accept what I was saying. After about an hour and a half, I was so frustrated and could hardly contain myself. I knew I was wasting my breath and suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness that these children have no advocates. No safe place to be. No kind person to confide in. No protection. Their parents are so poor, have so many children and have so little education that they are of little support to the child. They more often than not are the cause for most of the abuse children in this country face. So they leave an abusive home to come to a school that also carries out abuse with no real monitoring. They get beaten if they are late. No exceptions. They just didn't get up early enough. It's ridiculous. There is no punishment for teachers who go over the top. It seems that kids get the switch for even the most minor of infractions. We passed the elementary school and saw a girl of no more than 6 years old getting her hands switched. What, I ask, could she have done that warranted that?!
The students at all levels of schools here also have to do chores before school starts (cleaning the floor, watering the plants, sweeping etc.). We're teaching the kids about human rights and a lot of them are being violated in their own school that we're teaching at! There is so much exploitation and abuse I haven't even scratched the surface.
So, after about two hours of talking with the headmaster I couldn't take it anymore. I was overcome with sadness and felt that I wouldn't be able to control my tears. I made a swift (15 minutes) departure and held myself together until the dirt road and 45 minutes walk down the hill back to town. We had to hurry because we were now late for my meeting with the Regional Commander of the police. Another battle I thought. And probably a pointless one too.
It wasn't as bad as I had expected. I think he thought better than to get into a debate with me over giving human rights talks to the police. I really want to present rape training to them. The police rarely prosecute rape, the biggest crime in this area, and more times than not berate the victim. And, get this, if the victim went to the hospital first and not the police, they won't look into the crime! It's also common and pretty inexpensive to bribe the police into dropping the charges and investigation.
So, I felt that if I was telling kids to go to the police if they need help or see human rights violations then I want the police to actually act as they should. So, the Commander told me I have to write a letter and then he'll decide. My fingers are tightly crossed but I am now not as convinced as I once was that I can make it happen. At least he didn't say no right away so there is always hope.
I am trying to keep my spirits up but the realities of life here are depressing and I feel beyond powerless. I guess that's how women are supposed to feel here. I'll have a pint and pull myself together because I am so lucky and stronger than that. And the women who are truly powerless need my help. Hopefully, my efforts are making at least the tiniest of impact here. One can only hope!
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