Grin And Bear It

Written by Andre 3 Stacks

My entire family is from Taraba so I can only speak of my experiences in Nigeria as a function of that part of my identity. In northern Nigeria I am generally seen as less than a man. Girls are raised to be good mothers and even better wives. It goes without saying that boys aren’t raised with the same values. I hear that this is common in other Nigerian regions as well. It’s just like Cersei said, “Everywhere in the world they hurt little girls.”

Whenever a girl dares to have an original thought or tries to show a little bit of spirit, she has aunties who promptly ask if that’s how she’ll behave in her husband’s house. Because of course it’s unfathomable that she’ll enjoy a marriage that’s a partnership in any way. No, marriage has to be about pain and endurance for her. Not only that, if she does something perceived as wrong or unladylike, she can’t compare herself to the way her brothers are raised as a way of getting out of it because culture says boys and girls are not the same. I have now resorted to being a closet feminist since it’s so humiliating when my well-rehearsed, well-researched, rational arguments are laughed at. Somehow it’s amusing that I believe the biological accident which determines what genitals you walk around with in your pants should be inconsequential.

Ever since I graduated all anyone wants to know is when I’m getting married. They don’t ask so I assume it doesn’t matter that I’m not ready. It wouldn’t even matter if I didn’t want to. This is irrational. It is also none of their business. Strangely enough, even the aunts with horrible marriages try to force you to join the institution. One depressing explanation is they believe that all marriages are awful but that’s just the way it is and we all have to deal with it. Another explanation is they have sadistic motives and they want you to also be miserable. When it comes to marriage many Nigerians’ critical thinking just goes down the pit latrine. I am certainly not looking forward to living at home at 25 tolerating nosy aunties asking me unwelcome questions. When are you getting married? Noneya. That’s when.

Some women choose marriage as a way to escape the dictatorships of their fathers. From frying pan to fire! Don’t they know that marriage is the time when control over a woman is transferred from her father to her husband? I heard a story about a man who sent his wife back to her parents’ home so she could go learn how to cook. One about a woman who was ordered to cook for her husband despite having given birth that same day. For as long as I can remember, men have been oppressing women in the name of matrimony and we just stand by. How is it that Nigerians know how to “respect boundaries” when a woman is being physically abused in her home but don’t know anything about that when they’re pressuring her to get married in the first place?

Those of us lucky enough not to be forced into marriage may not even have as much autonomy over our decisions as we think. The absence of a forced marriage does not a willing decision make. A choice is not much of a choice if the options are 1) marry and risk being condemned to a life of sorrow and misogyny or 2) don’t marry and face societal pressure and disapproval for as long as you’re single. Why don’t these misery mongers all just assume we know marriage exists and we’ll opt in when it’s right and we’re ready to? Leave us alone! Yeah that’s right, watch out, I’m armed with something very dangerous for a woman in the north: a point.

I am still financially dependent on my old-fashioned and controlling father. This means he has free rein to legislate every aspect of my life. It was better when I was away but I’m living at home again. This time, I get a curfew and 10% of the pocket money I’m used to. The lack of freedom: fiscal, locomotive and sartorial is oppressive and all the time I feel like I have no room to express myself.

You have too many rules, they’re suffocating me.

I find it impossible to accept this backwards society where the inferior treatment I receive is simply unfair. That’s why my brother can think that it’s unacceptable for me to come back home around the time when he usually gets ready to leave. Like that warrants him talking to me like I’m not a fully grown adult. Like I didn’t just move back with a university degree. What has been hardest for me to deal with has been my mother’s betrayal when she sides with them. Though I’m prepared to confront this behaviour no matter what man exhibits it, I’m not sure how to challenge patriarchy when it’s coming from a woman.

Worse still, I have found that both genders tend to hide their misogyny behind religion. As a devout Muslim, this offends me deeply. The way women continue to be dealt with is violent. It is unlawful imprisonment. It is oppressive, it is restricting, and I have no data on this, but I bet it leads to depression. I’m not sure how things can change and this is not the first time someone in my position has clued people about this but nightmares don’t end just because you’ve opened your eyes. These are even my experiences as someone who’s better off than most. My dad rented me a flat in London where I lived alone and mostly did whatever I wanted for three years. However, there are many girls who don’t even get the chance to be educated. They may never know a life where they’re free. In all likelihood they will grow up to become women who live unhappy lives and are expected to just grin and bear it.