Strengthening Religious Narratives in Support of Women’s Right to Work

On Thursday, 6 August 2020, Rumah KitaB, with support from Investing in Women (IW), an initiative of the Australian Government, held an online workshop with the theme “Gender, Islam, and Economic Empowerment of Women.” The purpose of the workshop was to inform foundational research for and the design of IW-backed campaigns for influencing gender norms (IGN) in support of women’s economic empowerment in Indonesia. Rumah KitaB is one of four organizations in Indonesia that IW is funding to implement such campaigns.

A total of 43 persons (8 men and 35 women) took part in the event, including representatives from Rumah KitaB and its network of researchers; IW and the three other IW-supported organizations in Indonesia for IGN campaigns—Sedap Films, Magdalene and Yayasan Pulih; the Indonesia Business Coalition for Women Empowerment; and other stakeholders. This three-hour event was facilitated by Lies Marcoes-Natsir, a gender expert and Executive Director of Rumah KitaB. The two resource persons also from Rumah KitaB were Achmat Hilmi and Fayyaz Mumtaz.

In opening the interactive workshop, Alison Aggarwal, IW’s Gender Advocacy Director, noted the strong interest from the IGN partners in Indonesia for discussions on how religious norms and interpretations of Islamic text and teaching inform the gender norms that limit the role of women and men at home, at work and in society. Alison also acknowledged Rumah KitaB’s experience and expertise in promoting religious narratives that address social challenges in Indonesia, such as child marriage and gender-based violence.

Lies then facilitated a discussion among participants about their experiences and observations on how religious views impede women from working. Participants talked about a range of issues, including that people now tend to push women to stay at home rather than working outside of home, and the view that men are the leaders of women (Arrijalu Qowwamuna Alan Nisa’), which is quoted from surah An-Nisa: 34.

The issues raised by participants were addressed throughout the workshop. In her first session, Lies shared a presentation on how the essential (biological) differences between men and women have been creatively interpreted by society through various forms of knowledge, including religion (tasawuf, fiqh, interpretation of the Qur’an). Menstruation, for example, is a biological occurrence, but in society or culture the monthly cycle experienced by women is given various meanings—including that women are impure, dirty or less logical because they bleed.

The essentialisation of men and women gives rise to “rules” or norms that inherently assign work roles based on gender. Lies noted that as social constructs, the gender roles of men and women (feminine-masculine, domestic-public, reproductive-productive), should be fluid but, because of essentialism, are seen as fixed, invariable and unalterable. Gender essentialism is also often justified using interpretations of religious texts that are closely intertwined with culture, politics and economics. Further, the roles assigned to men are considered superior to those associated with women. This stereotyping tend to subordinate women across social spheres. Stereotypes and subordination, Lies said, lead to other types of gender-based violence against women, such as physical violence, poverty, and double burdens of labour.

One of the ways to address the gender norms arising from religious views that essentialise women and men is the development of interpretations that empower rather than subordinate women. This was discussed by  Achmat Hilmi, who proposed maqashid syariah as an alternative “tool for reading” religious texts. Maqashid syariah works by not simply relying on the text itself but also at the same time considering the social reality in which the text was produced and understood, and also including a sense of spirituality. This way of reading that is offered by maqashid syariah clearly differs from the “literalist exclusive” way of reading, which tends to be rigid, and from an “eclectic” way of reading that selects only what is needed.

For example, a verse of the Qur’an that is often sued as a basis for domestication of sharia: al-Ahzab 33, which reads, “[O women] … and abide in your houses and do not display yourselves (and behave) as did the people of the former times of ignorance…” This verse is frequently used to “keep women at home.” This is traditionally interpreted to mean that women’s bodies can create disorder or temptation in society and  that the inherent nature of women is to stay at home. However, according to Hilmi, using maqashid syariah, the word “houses” in this verse could be interpreted to mean not only houses in the physical sense but, more broadly, the space in which women have agency. This interpretation could be used to advocate for workplaces, an economy and a society where women can participate without fear of sanctions.

Fayyaz Mumtaz supported the discussion on maqashid syariah by describing how Muslim women in the time of the Prophet Muhammad played an active role in society in many activities and lines of work. This historical example, he said, shows that there is no prohibition on women playing roles in the world of work.

Participants were then invited to ask questions or raise comments at the end of the session. One of the comments was, the participants found out that there are also verses from the Al-Qur’an and hadith that support gender equality. However, unfortunately these verses are less popular so that the religious preachers rarely use them.

In closing the session, IW highlighted the importance of discussions to highlight insights gathered from the implementation of the campaigns for influencing gender norms in support of women’s economic empowerment. IW foreshadowed follow-up sessions, particularly as Rumah KitaB and other IW partners complete their foundational research for their campaigns.  [] (NA)

 

 

 

Child marriage surges amid Covid-19 and growing conservatism

Indonesia is experiencing a surge in child marriages. By June, 24,000 applications for permission to marry underage had been lodged with district and religious courts this year – more than two and a half times the total number for the whole of 2012.

 

This escalation goes against significant recent improvements in the legal framework, policies and public campaigns, as well as the government’s stated aim to reduce the prevalence of child marriage from 11.2% to 8.7% by 2024.

 

Court clerks cite teen pregnancies and last year’s amendment to the 1974 Marriage Law as reasons for the higher number of requests to marry young.

 

Under the 1974 Marriage Law, the minimum age of marriage was 19 for boys and 16 for girls, provided they had permission from their parents. The 2019 amendments raised the minimum marriageable age for girls to 19, with parental permission, bringing it into line with the minimum for boys (Article 7(1)). However, the revised law still allows parents to ask courts for special dispensation for their children to marry before 19 if there are “pressing reasons” (Article 7(2)).

 

Many factors drive child marriage in Indonesia. Poverty, education, the stigmatisation of sexuality outside marriage, religious convictions, local perceptions about marriageable age, and even ‘mutual love’ (suka-sama-suka) among teen couples all play a role in rates of child marriage.

 

The Ministry of Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection has expressed concern that increased economic pressure from Covid-19 may be leading parents to push their children to marry young, to reduce the economic burden on their households. A trend that idealises young marriage, promoted by conservative religious groups and on social media, is another factor.

 

The Manpower Ministry reported that more than 3.5 million workers had been laid off by 31 July, with the number predicted to rise to 5.5 million by year-end. Indonesia’s poverty rate is expected to increase to 9.7 per cent by September, meaning that 1.3 million more people will be pushed into poverty.

 

The impacts of this for children are frightening. Unicef predicts that the increase in poverty in Indonesia will worsen child malnutrition, affecting children’s physical and mental development. It will increase the risk of 9.7 million children dropping out of school. Economic decline, combined with lack of formal education, may drive parents to urge their children to marry young, especially girls.

 

At the same time, Indonesia is experiencing a surge of religious conservatism that is driving a backlash against legal efforts to support gender equality and end child marriage. For example, the ‘Indonesia Without Dating’ (Indonesia Tanpa Pacaran) movement encourages young adults to avoid dating and focus on serving God. It has attracted more than a million followers on Instagram. Its social media content pairs fairy-tale images of romantic love with slogans that encourage young marriage as a way to avoid the temptation of pre-marital relations.

 

An idealised view of young marriage is also promoted by social media influencers. Sabrina Salsabila, a teenager from West Java who married at 16, has amassed more than 74,000 subscribers on YouTube and more than 133,000 followers on Instagram, where she shares airbrushed images of her glamorous, globetrotting life as a young bride. Despite facing some public criticism, her young followers continue to express their desire to follow her path.

 

Conservative family values may also be a factor. A study of 61 dispensations for underage marriage in 2017-2018 conducted by students and a lecturer at Gadjah Mada University’s Faculty of Law found that the majority of those marriages were instigated by parents who felt that their children had dated long enough, and were concerned about the potential for pre-marital sex. In cases of teen pregnancy, child marriage was pushed by families as an immediate solution. In other words, some families’ moral values conflict with legal protections against child marriage.

 

Further, Indonesian family law is a complex patchwork of national, customary (adat), religious, and Dutch colonial laws. While the revised Marriage Law sets a clear minimum age of 19 for boys and girls, and only allows child marriage with court approval, adat and religious laws have their own definitions and guidelines. Although the courts do not recognise them, these alternative legal systems are another cause of the high number of underage marriage applications across Indonesia.

What can be done? 

The amendment to the Marriage Law, and a subsequent Supreme Court regulation that provided guidance for judges in deciding marriage dispensation proceedings, were hard-won achievements in the fight to end child marriage in Indonesia. For more than 40 years, through five administrations, the Marriage Law remained unchanged, as lawmakers and politicians avoided the sensitive issue.

 

If it were not for the efforts of a relentless civil society movement that drafted and promoted amendments to the Marriage Law, and a group of victims of child marriage who filed a judicial review application with the Constitutional Court, these changes would never have happened.

 

As the government responds to Covid-19, efforts for economic recovery must include assistance to prevent more families falling into poverty, as well as efforts to ensure children’s right to formal education is fulfilled. Further work must be done to provide adequate and sensible sexual and reproductive health education in schools and communities.

 

Addressing conservative religious and customary values is a much more challenging task. The government cannot rely on top-down, bureaucratic programs to address the issue. Local context matters. The government should facilitate village and religious leaders, parents, teachers and young people to come up with community-based programs to respond to the local situation.

 

Victims’ stories of child marriage and the impact it had on their lives were compelling for the Constitutional Court when it decided the marriageable age of 16 for girls was unconstitutional. Victims should be provided with more opportunities to tell their stories to their peers, to debunk false images of blissful child marriage.

 

It is also essential to create a broader and more frequent discourse on child marriage, providing opportunities for conservative groups to sit together with opponents of child marriage. Influencers could also be recruited to spread messages on social media to counter the narrative of conservative groups.

 

Indonesia has made remarkable progress in improving the legal and policy framework to protect children from child marriage. But as recent figures have shown, policy change is not enough on its own. To prevent further backsliding, a serious effort will be required – and soon.

 

Source: https://indonesiaatmelbourne.unimelb.edu.au/child-marriage-surges-amid-covid-19-and-growing-conservatism/?s=08

After 36 years, who still remembers CEDAW?

Lies Marcoes

Director of Rumah Kita Bersama Foundation

The day before the commemoration of the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), which falls July 24, I exchanged greetings via WhatsApp with Ibu Saparinah Sadli and Nursyahbani Katjasungkana, two prominent figures in the implementation of this convention. I asked them which of the issues in CEDAW was most relevant nowadays, as this year marked the 36th anniversary of Indonesia’s passing the convention into law.

Ibu Sap, as we call her, was one of the most eminent persons, along with Ibu Achi Luhulima, the late Ibu TO Ichromi, the late Ibu Sumhadi, Ibu Syamsiah Ahmad, Nursyahbani, and several others, who were active in disseminating CEDAW.

But Ibu Sap sent a pessimistic message to me. “Other than activists and Komnas Perempuan [the National Commission on Violence against Women], are there still any government officials or legislators who remember CEDAW?” This question left me thinking. Indeed, who (still) remembers CEDAW today?

CEDAW is one of the most fundamental human rights agreements in the United Nations system of international agreements. It contains a guarantee of substantive equality for women through elimination of all forms of discrimination based on gender prejudice.

The UN adopted the convention in 1979. It is a global agreement that defines the principles of women’s rights as human rights. It contains norms and standards for the obligations and responsibilities of each state party for eliminating discrimination against women.

Indonesia passed the convention into  law on July 24, 1984 under Law No. 7/1984. Since then the convention became legally binding and mandated Indonesia to take efforts to eliminate gender-based discrimination against women and to report its progress. The government has an obligation to produce reports on developments in its implementation of elimination of gender discrimination.

Ibu Sap’s question is therefore relevant here. We simply need to ensure that the government is really doing something to eliminate gender-based discrimination and report it to the CEDAW Committee at the UN. As far as I know, Indonesia has often failed to submit the reports.

The most relevant issues with regard to discriminatory practices actually remain the same from year to year. Nursyahbani has reminded us about two important issues. First is eliminating stereotyping of women, which is currently becoming even more serious due to the rise in primordial and conservative religious views in defining the roles and status of women.

Rumah KitaB is currently conducting research in five regions to see how gender norms are applied to women, particularly women who work. Statistics show that women’s participation in the (formal) work force only stands at 58 percent against 80 percent for men.

The participation rate is stagnant in the productive years, particularly for women who hold mid-level positions. They resign after they marry and have children. Their income is too low to hire a nanny to care for their children, while the state also fails to provide safe and inexpensive day care centers.

The other even more serious problem is the growing belief that a “good” woman is one who stays at home. A process of “domestification” is occurring as a result of conservative ideological views based on religious arguments.

We should be thankful that the legal age for marriage has now been set at 19 for both males and females. Yet the efforts to prevent child marriage still require hard work, as 20 regions still record an inexcusably high rate of child marriage.

In fact, the Marriage Law needs an overhaul as it condones gender inequality. The law contains an article which explicitly states that the man (husband) is the head of the household, while the woman (wife) is a housewife. This definition leads to practices that are incredibly discriminatory against women, with far-reaching consequences, including in the world of work.

Normatively, women are always seen merely as supplementary breadwinners, whatever their actual marital status. In reality, there are many women who head households, whether married, single, abandoned by husbands or divorced, and are the main earners of support for their families. The Women Breadwinner Empowerment (PEKKA) Foundation has reported a rise in the number of members, and the average age of women breadwinners is getting lower.

Given their “supplementary” status, working women in every sector are vulnerable to marginalization or exclusion. And even when they manage to perform, they lack sufficient bargaining power to support themselves as employees. They are also vulnerable to violence, including sexual assault.

For Indonesia, CEDAW is indeed a pearl of great price. Efforts are needed to explore it further. The outreach on CEDAW needs to be mobilized again, as its pioneers did in the early 1990s. Some of them were grouped under the Women’s Studies Center of the University of Indonesia, who partnered with NGOs concerned with the issue of elimination of gender discrimination.

Implementation of CEDAW should not be entrusted to state institutions, such as the Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection Ministry, because discriminatory practices continue to occur everywhere. We need a large-scale campaign on the benefits of the implementation of CEDAW for fulfillment of women’s rights, with achievements that will be duly noted by the UN and by countries that are concerned about gender-based discrimination.

***

The writer is researcher at Rumah KitaB. The original article was published on rumahkitab.com.

Report on Webinar Discussion on the Book Fiqh on Guardianship in Cooperation between Pondok Pesantren Dar Al Fikr, Rumah KitaB and the Oslo Coalition

Cirebon, 5th July 2020

 

“The Tradition of Pesantren: Reading Facts Offers a Solution”

CIREBON [5/7/20]. In cooperation with Pesantren Dar Al Fikr Arjawinangun, Cirebon, Rumah KitaB has again conducted a seminar for discussion of the Book Fiqh on Guardianship in order to disseminate research-based ideas about the efforts for prevention of child marriage. This event was held thanks to the support of the Oslo Coalition, a human rights institution based at a university in Oslo, Norway that works to strengthen human rights, including the rights of women and children.

Adapting to the current protocol to prevent spread of the corona virus, the activity, which was held at Aula MAN Nusantara, Arjawinangun on 5 July 2020, was limited to 25 participants attending in person, in line with the guidance from the governor of West Java. However, to accommodate other participants throughout Indonesia who were interested after seeing the advertisement for the seminar, another 204 participants followed the seminar online, and a further 4000 followed it through the broadcast on Facebook Live.

The event, which began at 9.00, presented three resource persons: Nyai Nurul Bahrul Ulum, a young activist researcher in Cirebon who is active in daily life at the Fahmina Institue; Ustadz Iqbal, graduate of a sharia faculty in Morocco, who currently teaches at the Ma’had Aly within pesantren Darut Tauhid in Cirebon; and Kyai Husein Muhammad, who is often called a “kyai feminis, caretaker of Pesantren Dar Al Fikr and a leading figure in the women’s movement in Indonesia who previously served as a commissioner of the National Commission on Violence against Women (Komnas Perempuan).

The seminar went beyond merely analyzing the content of the book and its contribution to efforts for prevention of child marriage through discussion of a particular issue that strongly influences the practice of child marriage: hak ijbar (the right to coerce) in the name of the role of the father, as the guardian of his daughter. The practice of child marriage in Indonesia is conditioned by, among other matters, religious views that grant tremendous authority to the father, or to the state as the representative of the father (wali adhol) which allows an underage marriage to take place through the legal remedy of granting a request for dispensation for the marriage.

Child marriage is a serious problem and an obstacle to prosperity in society. One out of eight women in Indonesia marries below the age of 18 (Central Statistical Agency, BPS). Child marriage can lead to a series of other problems: increased risk of maternal and infant mortality, reproductive health problems, mental health problems, domestic violence, and perpetuation of poverty. This research-based data was presented by Nyai Nurul Bahrul Ulum, activist and founder of Cirebon Feminis, in the Webinar Book Discussion entitled “Prevention of Child Marriage and Forced Marriage through Study of the Book Fiqh on Guardianship” on 5 July 2020.

Therefore, Bahrul Ulum said, child marriage will always correlate with poverty and violence. To break this chain, religious interpretation is needed which is just and takes the side of women. She stated that this is why the book “Fiqh on Guardianship” published by Rumah KitaB is important to help address the problem of child marriage.

“This book can raise the awareness of religious figures in performing reinterpretation of religious texts, particularly with regard to the right of guardianship (walayah) and relations between husbands and wives (qiwamah),” said Bahrul Ulum

Ustadz Muhammad Iqbal, the second resource person, confirmed what had been conveyed by Bahrul Ulum. Iqbal, said that this indicates the urgency of the perspective of maqasid al-syariah as an analytical tool to closely examine religious texts, as is used in this book.

“Through analysis using maqasid syariah, we can not only examine what lies behind the text (maqasid al-nash) but also explore the objective or intentions of its author (maqasid al-syari’),” Iqbal said.

In this way, he said, religious texts can take the side of humanity and not perpetuate injustice. This is because the purpose of sharia is to prevent harm (mudarat) and promote benefit (maslahat) for humankind. Therefore, according to Iqbal, child marriage must be prevented, because it causes enormous harm.

Finally, Kiai Husein Muhammad, as the third speaker, further confirmed that texts will be meaningless if they conflict with reality. Hence, in the context of child marriage, the data resulting from research must serve as the benchmark and basis for legal decisions.

In his presentation, Kyai Husein described the four stages of reading a text using the Maqashid Syariah method. He said that first of all, a passage should be read as a “statement”; second, we raise the question ”why is there such a statement?”; third, we ask “what is the objective of this statement?”; and finally, this leads to advocacy by seeking to understand “how” as a proposed solution. Using the example of verses on “males as leaders”, kyai Husein demonstrated the operation of the technique for using the maqashid syariah methodology so as to produce a more transformative interpretation that can limit the right and authority of a father over his daughter (walayah) or a husband over his wife (qiwamah).

The event concluded with a very lively discussion and question and answer session. In her closing remarks, Ibu Lies Marcoes, representing Rumah KitaB, expressed her appreciation for the very high quality of the discussion, in which the resource persons perfectly complemented one another. She also expressed her thanks to the caretaker of Pesantren Dar Al Fikr and to the resource persons. The event, chaired by kyai Jamaluddin Muhammad, ended at 12.30 and was followed by a more limited discussion on the practical strategy to publicize and disseminate the book Fiqh on Guardianship as an effort to prevent child marriage. (JM/LM)

 

Gus Jamal from Rumah KitaB

Ustadz Iqbal, teacher at the Ma’had Aly within pesantren Darut Tauhid in Cirebon

Kyai Husein Muhammad, who is often called a “kyai feminis”, caretaker of Pesantren Dar Al Fikr

Nyai Nurul Bahrul Ulum, activist and founder of Cirebon Feminis

How Stigma Links to COVID-19 in Indonesia

Sadly, discrimination against groups, including religious communities, that become scapegoats was widely predicted as a likely response to COVID-19 in many settings. Specific instances are indeed emerging.

Worrying examples are reported in Indonesia. In one case a large crowd intercepted an ambulance carrying a body, threatening to set both ambulance and body on fire. In another, a family brought home, with force, a body for burial because they feared that the hospital had not followed religiously appropriate procedures and, significantly, the family had not been able to witness what was done. Both cases involve dangerous actions because they risked spreading the disease. And in both cases the community was concerned in large part about the stigma they would suffer. Such stigma has material consequences such as shunning by neighbors and strict government surveillance, including blocking the people involved from leaving their village.

Anthropologist Lies Marcos highlights the tight links between culture and religion drawing on these examples. Illness carries harms that range well beyond disease. In the history of communicable diseases, with leprosy and HIV/AIDS prominent examples, stigma associated with a disease is often more malevolent than the disease itself. Stigma arises for many reasons, drawing on enduring myths and prejudices. It often extends far beyond the person who is ill to their family and even ethnic or religious group. Stigma links to shame and cowardice. Marcos cites the example of a fellow student in her high school who bled to death after a botched abortion, concealed because her family feared stigma. Collective denial of disease at a national level is another example of how shame and fear translate into denial.

Responding to COVID-19 requires not just information about how to combat the spread of the disease but also honesty that can be difficult to achieve. Communications and messages to inform people and encourage behavior change need to be carefully honed so that they avoid the risks of stigma and ostracism. Ministries of health and other public authorities cannot achieve this alone. Institutions with strong relationships with communities need to play their part. That includes NGOs and religious communities.

Distancing, yes; ostracism, no!

(Based on: June 19, 2020, Jakarta Post article)

Source: https://mailchi.mp/111b2e37d9b7/covid-19-june-23-highlight-4534?fbclid=IwAR3pw7ttfDIyTeV3oIQCGUajloUSAP_sfnNNXT0Bp9bu2_qxdRw4ecKG2Yc

COVID-19 kills as stigma harms families and society

On June 17, Kompas TV reported that hundreds of people had intercepted an ambulance and threatened to set it on fire and forcibly remove the remains of a person who had died after being exposed to COVID-19. It seems they thought they would suffer major problems if the body was buried under COVID-19 protocols. They would, perhaps, be under constant observation by public health personnel and the COVID-19 task force, and their village might be locked down. They might be prohibited from leaving their homes or their neighborhood. They felt they might be shunned by residents of other villages and not even allowed on the roads passing through other villages. Not only might they be ostracized, but the acknowledgement that one of their residents had died of COVID-19 could lead to restrictions on their access to normal activities, including earning a living.

Elsewhere, in a separate report, a COVID-19 victim’s family forcibly brought the remains home from the hospital and prepared the body for burial in accordance with their religious beliefs. They feared that the treatment of the body at the hospital had not followed the procedures required by their religion since the family had not been allowed to witness the process. They could not accept the fact that the body had been placed in a coffin, which they associated with the burial traditions of another religion. The family worried that they would be ostracized because the body had not been prepared according to religious tenets.

Such incidents as these, I believe, require a solution, because seizing mortal remains in this way is extremely dangerous. It was reported that 15 of the people involved in the process of bathing and wrapping the body later tested positive for COVID-19, and their village did, in fact, become a cluster under observation.

During my studies of Medical Anthropology in Amsterdam, we discussed topics such as these in our epidemiology class, viewing them as a cultural issue. “Illness” is actually more than merely the physical condition of a person who is unhealthy. It also involves traditional and cultural values and ways of thinking, which cause the illness to carry a range of other problems, such as prejudice and stigma.

One of the most ancient stigmas was that associated with leprosy. Historically, leprosy originated in Europe, the Middle East, Africa, Latin America and Asia, particularly India, and then spread throughout the world, including to Indonesia. This disease arrived with the era of colonialism in the 19th century. The bacterium responsible for the disease was first identified by a Swedish scientist in 1837. The traffic of persons between continents in the context of colonialism brought a variety of diseases with it caused by bacteria such as leprosy. The response required not just addressing the disease caused by the “leprae” bacteria but also addressing the additional disasters caused by fear and stigma. To address the spread of the disease and also to stop the “hunting” of lepers, the colonial government built special leprosy hospitals. This followed the model set by a Catholic order that built leper colonies on isolated islands. To reduce stigma and ostracism, these special leprosy hospitals were sometimes called “Lazarus Homes”, taking the name of Saint Lazarus, the patron saint of lepers.

Going beyond the issue of disease, leprosy later became a term to convey racial hatred. Leprosy was used as a metaphor to justify the ostracism or eradication of groups seen as belonging to the “other” on the basis of race, ethnicity or other distinguishing features. Even though leprosy can now be controlled with treatment and quarantine, this metaphor for hatred is still used as an excuse for eliminating others.

In the history of communicable diseases, the stigma is often more malevolent than the disease itself. People living with HIV provide a good example. The legendary singer Freddie Mercury had to keep his illness a secret until just before he died. Although the stigma of persons with HIV is not quite as severe as that of leprosy, a person still needs to think very thoroughly before publicly declaring they have HIV or even a disease considered more common, such as tuberculosis. The “informed consent ” procedure is therefore applied to protect a person’s confidentiality.

Stigma arises along with myth and prejudice. Stigma can be so strong that the patient’s family may also suffer from it. They may repeatedly deny or cover up the fact that someone in their family suffers from a disease that is stigmatized. Experience teaches us that the impact of stigma is often more severe than the disease itself. The sick person will be isolated, shunned or treated as an enemy. The family also suffers shame and humiliation because of the origin or cause of the disease. The custom of pillorying persons with mental problems is one such form of hiding shame. Similar things are often done when a family member has a physical or mental disability.

This sense of shame associated with illness is predictable given the social pressures that are experienced, even though it is not justified. Such feelings are often a form of cowardice of the healthy when they are around someone who is ill. It seems they are unable to imagine the multiple layers of consequences they would face if they did not cover it up. I remember when I was young and living in a village, there was a commotion over the death of a man who died in a firewood storage shed in the middle of a field. It seems the family was trying to hide this old man, a distant relative who was staying with them, because he suffered from acute tuberculosis. The family was afraid they would not be allowed to use the village well. In addition, they were embarrassed that a family member had TB, a “poor people’s disease”. When I was in junior high school, a student below me died from bleeding when her parents tried to perform an abortion because she was pregnant out of wedlock. She was only 13 at the time. The family concealed the pregnancy and did not take her to a doctor when she suffered severe bleeding – all out of a sense of shame.

Feelings of shame or a fear of stigmatization and its consequences, are not only experienced by patients and their families. In the case of COVID-19, fear of being isolated spreads to the wider community, giving rise to collective denial. In other cases, this is done by the authorities in the name of political and economic stability. So, in this situation, the handling of COVID-19 requires not just information about how to combat the spread of the disease but also honesty.

Explanations are needed that will change people’s attitude about COVID-19 so it does not lead to stigma and ostracism. In this regard, the handling of COVID-19 must not only be done by the Ministry of Health but also by institutions that deal directly with the public, such as the Ministry of Home Affairs and the Ministry of Religious Affairs. Here, the methods of NGOs that work to combat discrimination and hate speech can also be employed. Cultural experts must join the struggle! Distancing, yes; ostracism, no!

***

Lies Marcoes is a researcher at Rumah Kitab, Jakarta. The original Indonesian version was published on the Rumah Kitab website on June 18.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official stance of The Jakarta Post.

 

Source: https://www.thejakartapost.com/academia/2020/06/19/covid-19-kills-as-stigma-harms-families-and-society.html?fbclid=IwAR1rVhvaM9sbLOQiJ6UpBe-uWxN76qbXgYT2Rtsw3C9oMUWweHQEESdL-uY

What the Pandemic Reveals About the Male Ego

Why are the rates of coronavirus deaths far lower in many female-led countries?

By 

Opinion Columnist

President Tsai Ing-wen of Taiwan at a military base this spring amid the coronavirus pandemic.

Credit…Ritchie B. Tongo/EPA, via Shutterstock

 

Are female leaders better at fighting a pandemic?

I compiled death rates from the coronavirus for 21 countries around the world, 13 led by men and eight by women. The male-led countries suffered an average of 214 coronavirus-related deaths per million inhabitants. Those led by women lost only one-fifth as many, 36 per million.

If the United States had the coronavirus death rate of the average female-led country, 102,000 American lives would have been saved out of the 114,000 lost.

“Countries led by women do seem to be particularly successful in fighting the coronavirus,” noted Anne W. Rimoin, an epidemiologist at U.C.L.A. “New Zealand, Denmark, Finland, Germany, Iceland, Norway have done so well perhaps due to the leadership and management styles attributed to their female leaders.”

Let’s start by acknowledging that there have been plenty of wretched female leaders over the years. Indeed, according to research I once did for a book, female leaders around the world haven’t been clearly better than male counterparts even at improving girls’ education or reducing maternal mortality.

There has been solid research that it makes a difference to have more women on boards and in grass-roots positions, but evidence that they make better presidents or prime ministers has been lacking — until Covid-19 came along.

It’s not that the leaders who best managed the virus were all women. But those who bungled the response were all men, and mostly a particular type: authoritarian, vainglorious and blustering. Think of Boris Johnson in Britain, Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in Iran and Donald Trump in the United States.

Virtually every country that has experienced coronavirus mortality at a rate of more than 150 per million inhabitants is male-led.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that some of the best-run places have been run by women: New Zealand, Germany, Taiwan,” mused Susan Rice, who was national security adviser under President Barack Obama. “And where we’ve seen things go most badly wrong — the U.S., Brazil, Russia, the U.K. — it’s a lot of male ego and bluster.”

I think the divergence has a great deal to do with that ego and bluster.

“We often joke that men drivers never ask for directions,” observed Dr. Ezekiel Emanuel of the University of Pennsylvania. “I actually think there’s something to that also in terms of women’s leadership, in terms of recognizing expertise and asking experts for advice, and men sort of barreling ahead like they got it.”

He has a point. Those leaders who handled the virus best were those who humbly consulted public health experts and acted quickly, and many were women; in contrast, male authoritarians who botched the response were suspicious of experts and too full of themselves.

“I really get it,” Trump said when he visited the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in March. Surrounded by medical experts, he added, “Maybe I have natural ability,” and he wondered aloud if he should have become a scientist.

(Given that Trump said in January that Covid-19 was “totally under control,” he has his answer. And peer review might not have been kind to his ideas about bleach.)

Jacinda Ardern, prime minister of New Zealand.

Credit…Pool photo by Mark Mitchell

Angela Merkel, Germany’s chancellor.

Credit…Pool photo by Andreas Gora

While women have generally outshone men as international leaders, that does not seem true within the United States. Some female governors have done better, others worse, so there isn’t an obvious gender gap at home.

It’s also possible that this isn’t about female leaders but about the kind of country that chooses a woman to lead it.

Companies with more female executives on average perform better than those with fewer women, but analysts think that the reason isn’t just the brilliance of women leaders. Rather, companies that are culturally open to having senior women are also more willing to embrace other innovations, and it may be this innovative spirit that leads to higher profitability. Likewise, countries willing to elect female prime ministers may be those more inclined to listen to epidemiologists.

Yet I think that there’s also a difference in the leadership itself.

“Women lead often in a very different style from men,” said Margot Wallstrom, a former Swedish foreign minister, citing examples from Norway, Germany and New Zealand of women with low-key, inclusive and evidence-based leadership.

Wallstrom also noted that public health is a traditional “home turf” concern for many women leaders. Grant Miller, an expert in health economics at Stanford University, found that as states, one by one, granted the vote to women in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, those states then also invested more in sanitation and public health — saving some 20,000 children’s lives a year. Boys were thus huge beneficiaries of women’s suffrage.

One trap for female politicians is that brashness can be effective for male candidates, but researchers find that male and female voters alike are turned off by women who seem self-promotional. That forces women in politics to master the art of communicating effectively in a low-key way — just what’s needed in a pandemic.

“Perhaps the skills that have led them to reach the top,” said Rimoin, the U.C.L.A. epidemiologist, “are the same skills that are currently needed to bring a country together.”

The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.

Nicholas Kristof has been a columnist for The Times since 2001. He has won two Pulitzer Prizes, for his coverage of China and of the genocide in Darfur. You can sign up for his free, twice-weekly email newsletter and follow him on InstagramHis latest book is “Tightrope: Americans Reaching for Hope.” @NickKristofFacebook

Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/13/opinion/sunday/women-leaders-coronavirus.html

The personal price of lockdown

By NIKEN KUSUMAWARDHANI

Indonesia must strengthen its anti-domestic-violence services during the coronavirus crisis

 

Widespread restriction of mobility has been required to deal with the spread of COVID-19, including stay at home orders, but not all homes are safe, Niken Kusumawardhani writes.

The chance to be able to stay at home in safety during lockdown is truly a privilege. The fact is, under quarantines women carry the burden of caregiving, both for children and the elderly, and face a higher risk of unintended pregnancies and domestic violence. Without well-established emergency services and shelter systems, women locked up with abusive husbands are becoming unwitting victims of the pandemic.

COVID-19 has brought a lot of uncertainty, and has placed limits on choices that people can make. During this time, perpetrators can be triggered to try and regain sense of control and power over their lives, and this can manifest itself in abuse.

A combination of distress, both economic, from lost work or higher costs, and emotional, from increased isolation and confinement, the risk of domestic violence has risen considerably during the pandemic crisis.

Over the years, domestic violence has been the most prevalent type of violence against women in Indonesia, and a recent report shows that during the first month of limited mobility in Jakarta, numbers of reported cases of domestic violence, rape, and sexual assaults have dramatically increased compared to the usual figures.

The cultural taboo against revealing marital problems has become the main barrier in Indonesia for filing reports of violence, causing domestic violence to be severely underreported. Even among victims who come forward, only a handful report to police. Research has found that one of the main barriers preventing women from reporting to police is unfamiliarity with the procedure.

Another barrier for women is financial dependence. There are fears that reporting abuse may land their husband in jail, and the victim will be left with limited resources to survive. This situation will only get worse as the pandemic progresses, as some women who become unable to work will be even more financially dependent on men, and find it even more difficult to leave if their home becomes a toxic environment.

Failure to deliver services for domestic violence survivors during the pandemic may increase the severity of violence cases, and eventually put more burden on the already-strained national health system. As large-scale social restrictions have been imposed in several major cities in Indonesia, it is imperative that governments categorise services for domestic violence victims as essential.

The availability of emergency safe houses and psychological services that are easily accessible by women impacted by domestic violence must be considered a priority for Indonesian policymakers during the coronavirus crisis.

The government must also allocate extra spending to deal with the domestic violence wave that will accompany the rest of the crisis. Unfortunately, none of the 405 trillion rupiah spending for the COVID-19 pandemic is dedicated to anti-domestic violence initiatives.

Before the pandemic, safe houses were only available in some districts, with varying quality and capacity. As construction of new safe houses will take a long time, transforming hotels into a potential safe house for survivors fleeing domestic violence is a more feasible option for the duration of the pandemic.

The government could also use the extra spending to pay for accommodation, food, and other essential needs for women who are forced to leave their homes due to domestic violence.

Recently, the Indonesian government launched a hotline service to connect psychologists with people who need mental health support during the pandemic, including those impacted by domestic violence. This is a great step, but it will still be difficult for victims to call the number while locked up at home with their abusers.

Features such as online chat services, texting, or the usage of secret code words during a call to discreetly seek help would make it easier for victims to reach out, and simple to implement. In addition to psychologists, the hotline service should also be backed up by a team of police and health workers who are well-trained in responding to domestic violence. Formation of this team may require additional economic resources but is surely important enough to be funded using the extra spending set aside for the pandemic.

Initiatives at the grassroots level can help strengthen existing anti-domestic violence measures during the coronavirus crisis. Steps taken by civil society groups, rather than government, to help survivors of domestic violence have started to flourish, especially in Greater Jakarta, the epicenter of the pandemic in the country.

As  some villages already implement their own measures to ensure distancing and caring for infected neighbours, they should also incorporate anti-domestic violence initiatives into their activism in the community.

For example, village volunteers and neighbourhood watch members could be educated, empowered to detect signs of violence, and then maintain regular communication with the neighbours. Village chiefs and community leaders should also increase their readiness in providing safe houses and receiving report from survivors.

More than just a global health issue, the COVID-19 pandemic has created serious disruption for so many aspects of everyday life. In the middle of high death tolls from the disease itself, it is easy to overlook the scale of what COVID-19 is doing to those who do not contract it.

Policies designed to limit mobility in the pandemic should not come at the expense of the safety of women, and Indonesia must use this hard time as an opportunity to strengthen its domestic violence services. A failure to provide comprehensive domestic violence services will create greater loss for Indonesia, both to its health care system, and society, and amount to an act negligence toward its own people.

If you or someone you know are experiencing domestic violence in Indonesia and require support, you can contact P2TP2A or Unit Pelayanan Perempuan dan Anak (PPA) Polda for help. In Australia, you can find resources to get support here or dial 1800 RESPECT.

Source: https://www.policyforum.net/the-personal-price-of-lockdown/?fbclid=IwAR0atPWbATut3NEH_Gsr3f1smWlq_0DWujoUNqAlpBh9Oqw7WX90XoEm9tU

Why Are Women (Still) Comfortable in Islam?

By Lies Marcoes (Researcher, Rumah KitaB)

Please show where and how women are placed with dignity in the conceptual framework (epistemology) of Islam? This question resounded in my mind following the discussion of Dr. Zahra Ayubi’s book Gendered Morality: Classical Islamic Ethics of the Self, Family and Society, (Columbia University, July 2019). This is not some strange or eccentric query, but rather an accusation that demands an honest answer. Where?The virtual discussion was held on the morning of 20 May 2020 by WE LEAD, an empowerment network of seven feminist NGOs, three of which are Islam-based. We all perceive the strong rising tide of fundamentalism that threatens women’s bodies and existence as well as the diversity of Indonesia. This was truly a very special discussion, in terms of the quality of the book, the discussants, and the dialogue. Dr. Ayubi herself participated throughout the discussion, even though it was before dawn in California. The discussion was led and notes were provided by Ulil Abshar Abdalla, M.A., who has for the past several years been an expert on Imam Ghazali’s work Ngaji Ihlya. It was important to have kyai Ulil involved, because one of the texts discussed in Gendered Morality is the works of Abu Hamid Muhammad al-Ghazali, better known as Imam Ghazali. Meanwhile, Dr. amina wadud (who officially prefers her name written without capital letters), serving as one of the discussants, led the discussion straight to the heart of the problem. She asked Dr. Ayubi to explain about her motivation, the basis of her arguments, and her analysis of the three texts of tasawuf (mysticism) she explored: Kimiya’i Sa’adat by Imam Ghazali, Akhlaaq-i Nasiri by Nasiruddin Tusi, and Akhlaaq-i Jalali by Jalaluddin Davani. These last two books are more popular in Iran.In his introduction to the discussion, kyai Ulil- and I concurred,  explained that mysticism has long been considered a discipline that is friendly toward women – for example, by presenting the “feminine side” of God. For many Muslim feminists, tasawuf is a branch of knowledge that can help to console them in their frustration with the teachings of Islam in other areas, which are often misogynistic and patriarchal. For example, in fiqh or dogma, women are discussed by first of all positioning them as subordinate to men. A woman is the property of her father or of some other man in his line of descent, or of her husband. Women are deemed to be only half the equal of men, and this assumption pervades practical matters such as giving testimony, inheritance rights, polygamy, and not being allowed to lead communal prayers. Sachiko Murata’s book The Tao of Islam is a study on Islamic spirituality that explores the balance of Yin and Yang and the masculine and feminine aspects in the characteristics of God. Other books, such as My Soul is a Woman by Annemarie Schimmel, also explore the feminine aspect in Islamic spirituality. But Dr. Zahra’s study and analysis leads to a very different conclusion. The construction of the teachings on akhlak (ethics), as explored in these three mystical works, is full of male-centered bias. The entire conceptual framework of thinking in mysticism about ethics solely discusses how men should behave and achieve superior moral character. In her book, she presents evidence of how these medieval Islamic intellectuals created a system of ethical philosophy that inherently has gender implications by ignoring the experience of women as subjects.

Ayubi’s study is very important and counts as new because until now, scholars of Islam who explore the issues of gender have generally criticized the patriarchal interpretations of the Qur’an, the hadith, or traditions of fiqh. In the Sufi teachings as portrayed in the three works she studied, the ideal concept of a human is a man who is able to control his passions. Such an attribute can only be achieved by the elite (the nobility, higher social classes), because only these upper classes are considered intellectually capable to grasp the concepts of philosophy and to achieve realization as persons of noble character.

 

Methodologically, what Ayubi has done is to “interrogate” the text. To be able to analyze how gender is understood in the texts, she first examined the masculinity and the class bias contained in the texts, particularly how men – and specifically, men from the elite class, in terms of wealth, education, and power – are conditioned from birth to become patriarchs/ leaders in society. It is important to recognize here that the issue is not simply that women are not included in a given text, but rather how, overall, the texts on ethical behavior require a certain form of relationship that is based on the subordination of others (for example, wives or slaves) to men in the effort to become more ethical.

 

According to Ayubi, in the understanding of mysticism, the studies of akhlak and fiqh occupy different “strata”. Fiqh is seen as discourse on ethics for the common people, who do not need heavy ideas but just require practical guidelines on what is and is not permitted; in contrast, akhlak is seen as discourse on ethics that is formulated by philosophical thinking, and therefore is intended only for the upper classes/ nobles. In her research, Ayubi concluded that the discourse on ethics in tasawuf suffers not only from male gender bias but also from class bias, because it is oriented toward the male elite. Obviously, the discussion of akhlak does include some discussion of women, and also of slaves. But the main thrust of these studies is on how a man should act ethically when facing (the temptations of) women or slaves. Hence, women are discussed in their role as the touchstone to test the quality of a man’s ethics, as a direct object to test the purity of men’s souls.

 

The concept of akhlak in mysticism is “refinement of nafs” (purification of the heart). Kyai Ulil added that the process of purification of the heart in tasawuf consists of three concepts: takholi (cleansing the heart of negative characteristics), takhali (filling it with good characteristics), and tajali (the peak of human endeavor, becoming a person who always acts ethically). amina wadud explained how this relates to the concept of Insaan Kamil, the ideal person, which revolves around purification of the hearts of men. According to Zahra, this “refinement of nafs” is in fact a concept that is solely for cleansing the hearts of men. In this way, no different from the epistemology in the fields of fiqh and tafsir, the texts on akhlak in tasawuf are full of misogyny and gender bias.

 

According to Dr. Ayubi, essentially the discipline of ethics (akhlak) offers a basic perspective on the meaning of being human, especially in the concept of dien according to Islam, which offers a way and a path of life for all humans. But apart from this rich discourse on ethics, there are still many other assumptions that need to be unpacked so that the humanity of every person can be fully recognized, so that this discourse can contribute to answering how to achieve the superiority and nobility of humankind in the perspective of Islam, i.e. as insaan kamil as mentioned by amina wadud.

 

Dr. Ayubi notes that in these texts, the question of gender can be raised not only in those matters that often discuss women, such as marriage, but in fact in all aspects discussed in the texts. Everything includes the issue of gender. She sees that, first, although the texts she studied were written in Persian, in which the pronouns do not literally distinguish between masculine and feminine, when we read them in context it is evident that these texts specifically refer only to males. For example, when discussing how to be a better person and Muslim, or when discussing the concept of nafs (the psyche) and how to control it, what is actually meant by the text is how to become a better Muslim male and be able to control one’s nafs. As another example, in the discussion on society, such as how to be a good leader and how to deal with opponents, the entire context is men’s leadership in society.

 

Second, the construction of akhlak in Islamic tradition as a way of life has to date been an exclusive effort. The ethical discourse aimed at purifying and upgrading oneself continues to exclude other groups based on gender, ability, rationality, social class, and race.

 

Rationality is one aspect that causes women to be treated unequally in the epistemological constructs of tasawuf, as in the other epistemologies (Fiqh, Aqidah, Philosophy, Politics). In fact, all these epistemological constructs focus on rationality. Perhaps this is why women are excluded in the texts. In fact, rationality should have no gender and need not always follow the same path.

 

But women’s reproductive capabilities, such as menstruation, pregnancy, giving birth, postnatal confinement, which are recognized in the text of the Qur’an as extremely burdensome events, “wahnan ‘ala wahnin”, have been used as a unilateral argument that women’s rationality is lower. This also relates to the ways in which women are obstructed in performing worship. The reproductive events that women experience have been used as a judgement on their inequality with men. Their essential ability has become a stigma implying that women are less rational than men, as well as further implications departing from the same prejudice – doubting their rationality.

 

For Dr. Nur Rofiah, one of the initiators of KUPI (Congress of Indonesian Women Ulama), Zahra’s book further reinforces her view that there are problems within Islam’s system of knowledge, including in mysticism, which has until now been considered neutral. It turns out that tasawuf is also characterized by a masculine awareness (using males as the standard). For many centuries, the experience of women with their bodies and their reproductive capability has not been taken into account in the system of teachings/ knowledge of Islam. The long history of human civilization, including Islamic civilization, is characterized by a tradition that “does not treat women as human”. This gives rise to a collective view (including in women’s own thinking) that men are considered the standard for women’s humanity.

 

Yet women’s biological and social experiences, such as giving birth and nursing their children, as well as their social implications, are never experienced by men. Women’s experience with reproduction seldom even enters into men’s awareness. Meanwhile, men hold strategic positions, including in constructing the concepts of knowledge. It is this situation that creates the gaps and differences in determining the standards of benefit in gender relations. The concept of “maslahat” (benefit, advantage) relies entirely on the standard of males. The most obvious example is that when determining permission for polygamy, in terms of both ethics/ fiqih and akhlak, polygamy is justified because women have certain time restrictions for engaging in sexual relations. Rather than having some empathy for women who are menstruating, pregnant, or in post-partum seclusion, men perceive that these obstacles interfere with their own benefit, and they therefore formulate their rights themselves so that they can continue to enjoy having sex whenever they feel they need it. On this basis, they formulate polygamy as a right that is permitted for men. Another example is marriages between young girls and adult men. This practice, which creates suffering and trauma for the girls, is considered beneficial because such marriages bring benefit to men, who feel they have the right to repeatedly deflower virgins by marrying young girls!

The importance of reproduction for the survival of living creatures, which brings with it many biological experiences for women, will never be compatible with the concepts of akhlak according to masculine bodies and experience. For amina wadud, a rereading of this issue requires us to radically integrate the bodily experiences of all humankind (not just women) in constructing an understanding of humankind, insaan kamil, and then enhancing it so that spiritual refinement is not allocated only to formal rituals of worship.

 

Returning to the question I raised earlier, if women are treated so badly in the epistemology of Islam, why are women (still) comfortable being in Islam?

Dr. Zahra Ayubi stated that texts such as the ones she explored should not automatically be ignored. An effort is needed to reexamine them critically and in depth, and to raise critical questions at a more philosophical and cosmic level. We can ask what the ethical basis is in interpreting the meaning of being a Muslim, what is the purpose of human existence, and what it means to surrender oneself to Allah. She recommends that Muslim intellectuals should collectively and sincerely think about a more inclusive philosophy of ethics that does not merely construct happiness based on the concept of use of reason (such that rationality holds the most important position and neglects other kinds of experience). The current definition of akhlak is problematic, because it excludes the experience of women.

 

Ideally, the texts on akhlak should be able to acknowledge the diversity of humankind – not just in terms of gender, but also race, ability, and class. The recognition of this diversity could give rise to a diversity of standards – not just a single standard for achieving “refinement”. And this would be more appropriate, because the various differences, social constructs, and structural challenges will lead to differences in defining the obstacles each individual faces in achieving the potential of their nafs.

 

I held a virtual discussion with several of my feminist colleagues. They provided some answers that seem quite reasonable to me. The most common answer was that women lack the courage or willingness to leave Islam, because the ties that bind them are so tight and strong. Imagine: from the day she is born, the first stones are laid in the walls that guard her; she is the daughter (binti) of a particular father, and the entire family line of the patriarchal hierarchy feels they have rights over her. Starting even as a baby, she is told of her obligation to maintain the dignity of the family, and then of ever-widening circles, until she must protect the reputation of the entire “Muslim community”. If she chooses to become an apostate, for example, how many people will feel they have the right to punish her? In this sense, the question of “comfortable or not” becomes irrelevant.

Second was an answer which asserts that within religion there are in fact aspects of affection, warmth, a feeling of peace, a devout relationship between individual women and their God. This experience is not codified as a discipline of knowledge, nor is it institutionalized. This is because women’s experience is not known by the men who have for so long constructed the epistemology of Islam. These aspects of warmth in religion live and are passed on as a secret among women from generation to generation. The experience of reproduction is something only they experience, which they do not share with those who will never be able to understand it (men) and who consider it a taboo subject. They choose to maintain an internal love, with their Creator, whom they treat as their beloved.

Another option is to leave Islam and take up some other religion or ideology that defends women, such as secular philosophy and thinking that is based on the legal system. But such an option does not necessarily provide space for women. And finally, and I think this is the path that is now being pursued by feminist Muslims, including Dr. Zahra Ayubi: seize the tafsir (interpretation)! The epistemology of Islam already offers a wealth of methodologies that can be criticized and reused to provide a critique that presents the experiences of women as valid truth. In this way, the epistemology of Islam can be reexamined and reconstructed! []

 

THE WORTH OF A GIRL

What does a child bride bring to a marriage — a dowry, social status, domestic labor, business connections? What is her value to two families, the one she leaves and the one she joins? And what is the cost to the girl?

 

Somaya was 13 years old and finishing seventh grade in Herat, Afghanistan, when her father sold her for 250,000 afghani ($3,300) to marry his relative’s son.

She moved into her new husband’s family home, she says, and her father then spent much of the money on her bedding, clothes and jewelry. When Somaya asked if she could go back to classes, she says both her mother-in-law and husband beat her.

“I kept telling them that I wanted to go to school,” Somaya says. Like many Afghans, she uses only one name. “But my in-laws told me, ‘If you go to school, who will do the house chores? We bought you.’”

About 650 million children and women alive today were married before age 18, roughly 17% of the global female population, according to UNICEF. In a yearlong project, Voice of America set out to meet child brides from Albania to Pakistan to Tanzania, putting faces and voices to a practice that the United Nations is trying to eliminate by 2030.

Ending child marriage is pivotal to improving global health, eliminating poverty and expanding human rights, UNICEF says. Married teen girls are often physically abused, and their lives of chores and childbearing perpetuate centuries-old cycles of gender inequality in their communities.

The leading causes of death for girls ages 15 to 19 are complications from pregnancy and giving birth, according to the World Health Organization. Babies born to girls younger than 18 also have higher risks of death and stunting.

Global perspective

Percentage of women married before 18

Early marriage doesn’t happen in only one region or in one religion. The U.S. state of Missouri raised its minimum legal age for marriage to 16 just last year. Couples from neighboring states have long crossed into the Midwestern state to wed, often because the girl was pregnant and the baby’s father feared prison for statutory rape.

In northern Nigeria, where more than 65% of girls are married before they turn 18, according to Girls Not Brides, a London-based partnership of more than 1,000 organizations working to end child marriage, the Islamic terrorist group Boko Haram reportedly rewards its young militants with wives.

On Lombok, a lush island east of Bali in Indonesia, a girl who’s still single at 16 shames her whole family.

“People tend to think that this is an issue that affects a couple of hundred girls in small villages around the world,” says Lakshmi Sundaram, who was executive director of Girls Not Brides from 2012 until earlier this year. “It’s happening everywhere. It may look a bit different in different places, but it is a universal issue.”

The term child marriage refers to formal marriages and informal unions in which a girl or boy lives with a partner as if married before the age of 18. An informal union is one in which a couple live together over time without a formal civil or religious ceremony.

Despite the crushing consequences, more than 12 million girls a year still marry by age 18, according to UNICEF. They are often forced into a union because they may be valued by parents and others in ways that impede the basic right to grow up, get an education and make their own choices.

The practice overwhelmingly affects girls from poor and rural areas, where child marriage is an ingrained cultural practice that some people see as protecting women with limited options.

Global worth

VOA journalists around the globe focused on the worth of a girl, looking to reveal how a young bride is valued by two families — the one she leaves behind, and the one she joins — and the cost to the girl herself of marriage before adulthood.

To solicit global views during the reporting process, VOA news teams and affiliates reporting in 12 languages posted short videos on Facebook and Instagram of girls and women talking about their experience as brides and young mothers.

These clips received millions of views and thousands of comments, from tearful emojis to arguments for and against child marriage that are steeped in faith, money, culture, power, sexism and love.

In the first of her two videos, Somaya, now 15, sits on cream-colored pillows as she calmly tells her story. Her voice breaks only when she talks about school.

“I loved to go to school every day,” she says, her green eyes tearing up. “I lost my chance to get an education.”

Among the girls and women whom VOA interviewed, this theme dominated: They regret being pulled out of school and vow to help other girls, especially their daughters, avoid the same life.

In Kayapinar, Turkey, Sultan Mustafa Tumerdem, now 58, says she has had a happy life with a husband and two adult sons. Her parents forced her to marry a boy she didn’t know when she was a child, she says, and she wouldn’t wish the same for others.

“Don’t get married early, because people feel crushed when they get married early,” she says. “I didn’t go to school, and so I was crushed.”

In Honduras, Olga Emelina Vasquez Pena moved in with her boyfriend when she was 17 and pregnant. They share a home in El Granadillo and have a 15-month-old daughter. Olga says that in her village near rural La Paz, where lucrative jobs are hard to find, “few people get married.

“When you have a partner, he can help you get things,” she says.

Olga’s mother, who sits with her in the video, left school after the second grade, she says, and regrets her daughter not getting more education. Still, Olga, now 19, says she didn’t consult with anyone before her union.

“Here, kids get together with partners around 17 to 21 years old,” she says. “When you are part of a couple, you have more responsibility. You have to do things, even if you don’t want to.”

International effort

The United Nations’ efforts to end marriage before age 18 are part of a global agreement that outlines 17 so-called Sustainable Development Goals.

The SDGs include gender equality and a written target: “Eliminate all harmful practices, such as child, early and forced marriage and female genital mutilation.” It asks that governments, civil society organizations, religious and community leaders, and families work together to essentially re-evaluate the worth of their girls.

The economic case for change is powerful. By limiting girls’ education and lifetime earning potential, child marriage may be costing trillions of dollars, according to a report by the World Bank and the International Center on Research for Women, which was released in 2017. The report looked at child marriage in 25 developing countries where at least a third of women marry before age 18.

The enormous economic drain also comes from high fertility rates and poorer health outcomes for mothers and children, and from the strain on government budgets, according to the report.

“If you have high population growth, it’s very difficult to provide quality services for everybody, whether it’s for school … or whether it’s for health services or even basic infrastructure,” says Quentin Wodon, a World Bank lead economist and the report’s co-author.

Wodon emphasizes the importance of keeping a girl in school and delaying marriage.

“Investments in adolescent girls tend to have very high economic returns,” he says. That’s “not the most important reason to end child marriage — the moral argument is — but these economic returns are very useful to convince various policymakers to invest in ending the practice.”

For now, the pressure on millions of girls to give in to a family transaction that includes their marriage can be overwhelming. The deal may be monetary — a payment received or a payment given — or part of a complex set of relationships that involves household labor and grandchildren. To many parents, a daughter’s value may be wrapped up in her virginity and security, or their own honor and status.

Orkida Driza, 40, lives in Albania’s capital city, Tirana. She married at 14 and saw no other choice: Her sister needed surgery, and the woman who wanted her as a wife for her son was friendly with doctors at the hospital.

“I did it to save my sister’s life,” Orkida says.

While Orkida didn’t want her own daughter to marry before finishing her education, economic circumstances dictated otherwise. She allowed her daughter to marry at 12.

In Kalar, a city in the Kurdistan region of Iraq, Shaima Mahmood Muhammed married at 15 because she couldn’t get a job, she says, and felt she had to relieve the financial burden on her father, a Kurdish national soldier with three other children.

Photo of Somaya unfurling a wedding dress she had sewn.

(Photos by Khalil Noorzai for VOA News)

Living life

In Afghanistan, Somaya has had a different outcome. VOA returned to her in Herat five months after the first interview and found her sewing dresses alongside her mother in a sunny living room. Her father was gone, jailed for two years for abusing her and having forced her marriage.

Helped by Medica Afghanistan, a nongovernmental organization that works on women’s legal rights and offers counseling, Somaya was able to divorce her husband in February. She is learning to read the Quran with a tutor’s help and is considering becoming a tutor herself someday.

For now, “I sew clothing with my mother, and my brother works in a factory. We are the breadwinners,” she says. “My life is better.”

Reporting by Eva Mazrieva, Lina Correa, Jaffar Mjasiri, Carolyn Presutti, Muhammad Saqib, Carol Guensburg and Lisa Kassenaar.

Source: https://projects.voanews.com/child-marriage/?fbclid=IwAR2xhSUm9P9ViEVRUwpsZJuJ6YxzwAa9_ArqGubmpatUVOXj_wIyATVwp2o