Proud women
March 9th, 2009
Three months ago I wrote the following:
I’ve seen different ones come by these past few weeks. Old women, young girls, women of my own age. Women from all of the different groups involved in this conflict. Their faces reveal shock, fear and shame. Sometimes they show no emotion at all. It’s also difficult for me to explain how this makes me feel: full of disbelief, powerlessness, incomprehension.
Disbelief because I cannot understand how a person, how a man can do this to a woman. Powerlessness because this is the reality in this world. A reality that keeps hitting me in the face and leaves me speechless in front of this woman. Incomprehension because I will never understand how such an experience affects a woman.
The girl is 14 years old. She was raped during the plundering of her village.
The pregnant woman, raped in front of her husband.
The widow, raped and humiliated by a group of men taking revenge for a relative accused of having links to another group.
And then there is the woman who is my age. She has a gunshot wound in her thigh. She tried to resist.
We take in these women, care for their wounds and give them injections and pills to prevent sexually transmitted infections and HIV.
But some wounds never heal…
Since January, I’ve had a new job in addition to my ‘regular’ work at the hospital. I’m responsible for the ‘MSF/SOPROP’ clinic (‘Solidarité pour la promotion sociale et la paix’), a place where we offer help to victims of sexual violence. I took over responsibility for this clinic with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I felt so motivated and determined because there is such a great need to provide care to the victims here. On the other hand, I felt uncertain, because it seemed like such a giant responsibility and it filled me with emotions and incomprehension. After a morning full of stories and witnesses, my whole day was ruined.
But in the meantime, I’m also now proud that we’ve advanced a few steps. The team is working hard to make the clinic’s presence known among the population so people know where they can get care. We have also started setting up a focus group. This is where victims can share their experiences. Listening to their input also helps us improve the care we offer.
It’s starting to work. Last Tuesday, 16 women showed up. Quietly and shyly they came inside one by one. Some women entered seeming completely broken, others appeared to take a deep breath and then square their shoulders.
I was actually nervous. I found it difficult to see all of these women, knowing how much pain they had suffered. I felt so powerless.
First we drank a cup of tea together. The conversation began to build softly. Then a few women started to answer questions posed by the nurses. Others stayed silent but listened intently. As time went by, more women spoke up and the group began to relax. After an hour, it was as if the group had undergone a complete transformation. We laughed and had fun together.
I walked around with a smile on my face for the rest of the day. I was so proud of my SOPROP team and so proud of these women—the idea that we could achieve something like this together.
Saturday, 8 March is International Women’s Day. The SOPROP team and I are working together to organise our event on this day. All of the nurses and all of the women who have been treated in the SOPROP clinic are ‘taking to the streets’. Dressed in the same clothes, we are going to walk through Mweso and present our activities through some drama skits.
I hope that every woman can be proud of herself as we walk together. And I hope that we can reflect this pride and give hope and courage to all of the women who have not yet sought help.
But on that day there will be someone who is incredibly proud, and that will be me. Proud that I can walk among so many beautiful and brave women.
Maartje
