Gender

No matter how much I’ve read and heard about gender issues, no matter how well prepared I thought I was to deal with the fact that working in a developing country as a woman was going to be more difficult, no matter how many times VSO have told me that Gender is an issue that needs to be addressed in all placements – I don’t think I ever really appreciated the reality of it.

I think until you're actually sitting in a workshop group where the male contributions seem to be more valid than those from the women, until you’ve been overlooked for the tenth time by someone who seems only interested in speaking to your husband, I don’t think you can appreciate the paralysing frustration and powerlessness that it creates. And, of course, these are only very minor instances.

I’d accepted the practicalities of working within a culture where gender might be a bigger issue than in my own; I had understood that I may need to talk to the women in my organisation differently than the men (I know that’s an Americanism, but I actually think it’s pretty useful – can anyone offer a British version that isn’t horribly clunky?) and that I may need to be strategic in my communications. But – having never been faced with gender discrimination of any kind back home (other than pub talk which I've shouted down!) – I wasn’t prepared for the strength of emotional reaction I’m having to it. It’s sheer bloody anger. And not just at the injustice of it, but at the fact that I’m not in a position to challenge or fight it. Well, not yet.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying there’s black and white, right and wrong here. It’s a different cultural framework and, in some instances, there are firmly held religious beliefs which determine how a man interacts with a woman (perhaps particularly in front of her husband). But – I am increasingly grateful for the fact that – my own cultural background and upbringing means that even the slightest hint that I am in any way lesser than a man makes my blood boil. 

I look forward to learning tolerance.

In the beginning...

I have to admit to not really understanding the point of a blog. Putting one’s thoughts in writing – and into the public domain, no less – seems to me to be fraught with difficulties (legal, social, diplomatic, etc). I also have to admit to never having been able to keep up with a blog, even when written by some of my dearest friends. 

Nevertheless, with that optimistic opening out of the way, I would genuinely like to let people back home – and anyone else who may feel like tuning in (that’s the weird part) – know a little bit about what I’m up to whilst volunteering with VSO in Nigeria.

We’ve been here for over a week now. Naturally, I have freaked out on a daily basis about the general newness and crazyness of it all, but I’m gradually getting used to the idea that we’re here for the long haul. It’s hot but not drastically so (I have no idea what that translates to in degrees, but it’s manageable) and less wet than one might expect a rainy season to be. As a sweeping generalisation, Nigerian people are very friendly and jolly – lots of laughter, and they can certainly teach me a thing or two about relaxing!

We’ve been eased into our life here with extraordinary luxury by Nigerian standards – a hotel room in the capital, Abuja, with TV, air conditioning, wi-fi (kind of) and hot running water. Abuja is a strange city – it was created when the government decided to move the capital from Lagos, and has been built from scratch with wide, clean roads, tall-ish buildings and a ban on motorcycle taxis (called okadas). It’s pretty spread out, so no-one really walks, and with no okadas, the only option is to take taxis everywhere – luxury!

A four day trip over the weekend to stay with a volunteer in rural Akwanga gave us a better insight into what Nigerian life will really be like. Hopping on and off okadas (and telling the drivers to drive hankali (carefully) because I’m a baturi (white person)), bathing with a bucket of cold water, killing rats in the flat…the fun has only just begun. We also got to walk through some villages belonging to the nomadic Fulani tribe – a real privilege.

The journey back was our first attempt at public transport without the comfort of current volunteers showing us what to do. Bush taxis are like mini vans with two rows of seats behind the driver/passenger seats. The rows are clearly built for 3 people each, but they squeeze at least 4 onto each with much shifting and some pain. Then when they’re full, they put two people on fold down chairs behind the driver, facing backwards, two people on the passenger seat, and even a second person sharing the seat with the driver. It’s truly astonishing to see how many people can fit into such a small vehicle.

Back now at the Crystal Palace Hotel in Abuja (and even though one volunteer describes it as “neither crystal nor palatial”, it’s actually pretty good) for the remaining couple of days of our In Country Training. We’ll be travelling up to Kaduna to start our placements on Friday. Fortunately, we’ve been told they have found accommodation for us; unfortunately, it isn’t ready yet (not sure if that means it’s currently being built, furnished or vacated) so we’ll be staying in a hotel for a while.

A final word on the food: HOT!