Voting Out One Misogynist Penis at a Time
2 pm, 12th February; there was a women’s march at Basantapur demanding an end to impunity and the continued violations of our rights. My heart was there but there was a pre-scheduled workshop that I had to facilitate for the producers of a handicraft factory at Mitrapark, Chabahil the very day.
On my way to Mitrapark from Maitighar at around 12.30, I could already see women parading through the streets ready with their placards and slogans against the rape culture. Bhagarathi Bhatta’s recent rape case amid the context where Nirmala Panta’s perpetrators hadn’t been caught since 2019, I was already infuriated. Meanwhile, the new rule proposed by Nepal’s Immigration Department that all women under 40 who wished to go abroad on a tourist visa should first acquire permission from their family and the ‘wada’, the local government had added fuel to my fire. For someone like me who has been leading an independent life since 18, both these incidents are a threat to my self-respect while for the ones who have been craving to lead the life on their own terms amid the suffocating norms set by the patriarchal society, it is a threat to their freedom of dreaming and striving to live their lives on their own.
In a country where hope and dream are the only means to living an independent life as a woman, anger is the feeling that arises from any added barrier the society creates on its way. I heartfully supported the march even if I could not support it physically.
At 1. 15 pm, I started the session sitting on the floor with three different flowers crafted by the 52 women who were sitting in front of me alongside four other women (the founders) who had organized the session and called me realizing that those women are in a state of having negative thoughts and anxiety after the lockdown. I had therefore decided to facilitate a session on ‘Emotional Awareness for Positive Thinking’ for them. Most of the women knew how to read and write their names while the others couldn’t do so that as well. We had two males in the room, one was in the front corner assisting me, and the other was in the back corner sitting near a group of participants. He had accompanied the founders of the factory as their chauffeur and had decided to stay in the session as one of the participants.
Just like any other session, I started my session ‘checking-in’ how the participants are feeling and knew right away that this was the first time someone was asking this to them. Sly shameful smiles, guilt, confusion, sadness, pain, and murmur followed giving the impression that the question that I had asked was like a bullet on their chest. Slowly, a woman sitting at the corner of the third row shared, “khai, kasto kasto, taha chaina” (We don’t know how we feel). The others nodded their head in agreement. The other 15 minutes, I spent sharing why it is important to know how we are feeling and how can we do so. “Afno barey ma sochna paencha, didi” (We can think for ourselves, sister), I had shared for which they gave me a blank stare. I realized asking them to think for themselves is something that I can’t do right away, so I reframed the question into if there is anything at the moment that they want to see happening for their family members. The answers started coming right away with the majority of the women sharing the concern for their daughters given the increasing rape cases and how the government is not being able to punish the perpetrators. Every time, they come to the factory for work, they are in a state of fear if their daughters had reached home safely from school.
I was ecstatic to have achieved that breakthrough for the women was at least sharing. My role for the day was to help them how to keep calm amid this difficult situation, I was prompting them to think if there’s anything we can do from our side to remain positive, the male participant raised his voice and shared, “yo sabai ta afanai karan le ta bhayeko ho ni, hernus baini, yo keti haru le esto kehi an kehi galti garcha jasko karanle uniharuko balatkar huncha, tehi bhayera uniharule afno dayera ma basnu parcha, afno sasir samalera” (Listen, sister, all the rape cases are due to the mistakes of women themselves, so it is important they understand their limits, especially when it comes to their body, meaning vagina). Stunned, I took a pause to reply, “dai, tapai kasari wahaharu ko barey ma bolna saknu huncha jabaki prasna thiyo tapai afule k garna saknu huncha, tapai malai bhanus yo sabai lai rokna tapai afno tarfa bata k garna saknu huncha? (The question was what can you do in your control these increasing rape cases, not to answer on other’s behalf what they should be doing). He didn’t utter a word after that while the rest of the women started focusing on what they can do next for their wellbeing and started sharing their responses.
To all the burning question on why the heck is this march; what is bad about asking permission from the guardians; why are you making a big deal about a simple government rule for ensuring the safety of the women themselves, the only answer is that your protectionist approach denies women their agency. The restrictions that women have been facing for so long have an unerasable impact within us, especially the ones who are already in a vulnerable position. As an adult, every woman has the right to self-determination, but in a context where there are multiple structural problems just because of the patriarchal order of the society, it is important we support the cause from wherever we are.
When Hima Bista, the founder of Women Lead Nepal was waring the government shouting, “My vagina will vote you out” representing all the women and gender minorities the government has failed, I know the other hundreds of women like me who couldn’t hit the streets were/are helping break the barriers set to us just because we have a vagina by voting out one misogynist penis at a time.
But there are miles to go before we sleep;
miles to go before we sleep;
Let’s be an ally and work against misogyny.
