More Than A Culture of Rape

Hey everyone!

I was hoping I would be back here with something fun, and light, and fluffy. I was going to tell you a little bit of what I've been doing with Good Intentions. I was, maybe, going to let you have a peak into the early stages of my character sketches. I was going to let you know how The (Unnamed) Book Club was going, and share some of the discussions on our book of the month.

But, I'm not.

Over the past few days, I've read about 3 rapes. Two fictional from J.R. Ward's Lover Reborn, and Lola Shoneyin's The Secret Lives of Baba Segis Wives. The non-fictional rape was the one that happened recently in India.

Normally, I avoid gory news. I don't think my knowing anything about it does anything for the victims or the situation. All that happens is that I get disturbed, and depressed. So I had been avoiding reading about the Indian rape case. I had noticed mentions of it on twitter, but I never followed the links. Then yesterday, my BFF, Cho, sent me a link and asked me to read and leave a comment. I asked if she had written it. She said no, but that it had made her angry and she wanted my opinion.

So I read it, or started it, then stopped half way. It was upsetting. Doubly so, because the writer was upset, and seemed to be writing on much more than the Indian rape case. The point of the piece that had annoyed my friend was that the lady said Nigeria has a culture of rape, and that women are raped here everyday and nothing is done.

I agree with the writer to a point. There is a culture of rape here, but much more pervasive is the culture of chauvinism. Rape is the fruit of Chauvinism. A culture that considers women as tools and toys. Women are not persons with thoughts, and dreams, but objects of pleasure, procreation or servitude. In both traditional and modern culture, women are second class citizens. If a woman is raped, it is because she did not dress right, she walked down the wrong road, she went to the wrong party/house/room, she trusted the wrong person, or she offended the wrong person.

Why didn't she make better choices?

If she was raped as part of a robbery, why didn't she lock the doors? Why didn't she hide in her room? Why did she come out in her nightie?

Come to think of it, how dare she go around with a vagina? Doesn't she know that she is putting herself in danger?

So generation after generation, we live in fear. We trust no one. Not brothers. Not uncles, cousins, teachers or friends. We have vaginas. We are victims waiting to happen. But there is a part of me that rebels against this, Scripture keeps running through my brain - God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. So how can I live in fear of anything with a penis, and still be walking in the fullness of God? Where do the two meet?

I'm honestly befuddled.

Because I live in fear. I have a daughter now who goes to school. Everyday she comes home, I watch her carefully especially when I give her a bath. Is she okay? Did anybody touch her?

Where does it stop?

When will men teach their sons that women are not toys? That stacking sexual conquest on top sexual conquest does not make you a man but a whore? When will men teach their sons not to rape?

The (Unnamed) Book Club

A few months ago, I let loose a bit of a rant on twitter about The Definition of an 'African' Writer, and how we are expected to write village square stories or colonial time stories or civil war stories. Basically, historical fiction. After my rant, and some distance, and some deep breathing, I became somewhat ashamed of myself.

What right did I have to complain about the type of work African writers are expected to produce? First of all, where is my body of work? Second, how many African writers have I actually read? Where did I get the idea that there was a stereotype aspiring authors like myself had to conform to? Shame on me.

So, I decided that next year, as part of my 300 book reading challenge (more on that later), I would read more African authors. Enter my BFF, Cho, who out of the blue asked me to start a book club.

"Why?"

"Maybe it will encourage me to read more".

Hmm. I ran the idea by our mutual friend, Joy, who said, "I've been meaning to start a book club, but never got around to it". Well, then, I was gingered. I asked them some more questions on the number of books we would read - 1 a month, the genres, and other little details. We all agreed to think of a name later, but I was so excited about it (books!!!) that I opened a Blackberry group with the the tentative name - The (Unnamed) Book Club. Little did I know, that once (Unnamed) forever shall it be. Thankfully, the other 12 members of our all female group (which includes Ann) like the quirky name (no one has said they hate it, so yay!).

We don't officially start reading and discussing the books till next year (which is just around the corner), but so far, it has been fun. First, there were nominations, and then campaigns, and then votes. Just this Sunday, the polls closed and we have our reading list for 2013. Drum roll please....

January - The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives by Lola Shoneyin
February - I've Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella
March - The Mrs. Club by Ekene Onu
April - Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beechar Stowe
May - Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
June - To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
July - Half of A Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
August - Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
September - On Black Sisters Street by Chika Unigwe
October - Stardust by Neil Gaiman or The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis (we're still voting, but Stardust is in the lead. yay!)
November - Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
December - The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

I'M SO EXCITED!!!

PS. I nominated Fine Boys by Eghosa Imasuen but it didn't make the cut *sniff sniff*, but I'm going to mention it anyway because the author was nice enough to respond to my inquiry on twitter about an image of his book cover for my campaign.

Will you be taking a reading challenge next year? What books are you just dying to read?

PPS. Sigh. Internet is acting up (I hope that means it will rain tonight), and so that means alas, I cannot upload images of the book covers tonight, but mark my words, I will eventually.

(Cue evil laugh)

 (Felt like the thing to do)