A recent blog of mine ­Rights claims in court­ generated an excellent comment and I wanted to highlight this comment and all its intellect.  I appreciate that I was too quick and too vague in saying that being a women is irrelevant in the case of the South African sex-worker who filed a claim against a brothel owner for unlawful termination.  Being a woman is relevant.  Particularly because, as the commenter notes:  “The judge chose to interpret the law in a way that entrenched discrimination against a particular sex and class­ female and sex worker.”  I was writing from the perspective of a gender-neutral world, which is not reality. Even purchasing beer in Zimbabwe can be gendered.  On many occasions, I’ve had men and women tell me it’s inappropriate for a woman to make such a purchase.  I wouldn’t continue to use the phrase “that she’s a woman is irrelevant” in reference to the South African sex worker (or any female sex worker).  But I stand by my argument that as a labour issue, the rights claim does not necessarily need to be asserted exclusively based on sex.  I would hope that this South African sex-workers case becomes an inspiring element in advocacy around decriminalizing sex work.  Sex work exists because there’s a large market for it; there has been since the dawn of time.  Women are the predominant sellers, but men sell sex too. In either case, as long as people are willing to buy, I believe that a sex worker is entitled to the same rights and protections afforded to any other person engaged in a form of employment.

Additionally, the conclusion of the comment importantly points to the difficulties around balancing, “problematic representation of women as poor powerless victims” with “nothing is as powerful a tool for inspiring women who are going through similar challenges as the story of one of their own, who has fought against the odds and won.”   A recent article in the Mail & Guardian reminded me of how difficult this balance is.  The author describes how her dog head-butted her at the veterinarians office resulting in her getting a black eye.  Once she went on with her life, it became apparent that nearly everyone she encountered had a difficult time looking her in the (black) eye.  There appeared to be uneasiness and an assumption that the black eye was the result of abuse by a man.  She was rendered a victim without the facts being known.  I agree with the author and also feel for how women who have been abused, “not only have to endure the physical and emotional pain of that violence, but must then suffer another round of beating and shrinkage when they venture into society.”  And yes, very much so, the many courageous women who are able to heal from experiences of violence are powerful examples of fighting the odds and winning.

I am one of those who aren’t blessed with the greatest of gnashers. Apparently my lower jaw is just too small to accommodate all the teeth I’m supposed to have in this lifetime. So in my adulthood I’ve had to have some ‘minor surgery’ on one of my wisdom teeth. The procedure was poorly done and as a result I got a major infection (pus and all) that traumatised me ever since. At that time I was told I needed more ‘minor surgery’ done on both my lower wisdom teeth that are stuck under my gum and failing to come out causing such harrowing pain. Not removing them would mean a life of grinding jaws from my early 30s onwards. I am only 24 and last Friday I had one of my very healthy wisdom teeth taken out.

I was contemplating the possibility of the procedure going wrong and having another infection. Add to that, the dentist was just too damn expensive, what a rip-off! For consultation alone, I was to fork out Z$1 700 (10 trillion and seven hundred thousand dollars in the old currency), but that is only if I was paying cash. Any other form of payment like cheque or bank transfer meant that I’d have to pay double. Since there was no way I could get 10 trillion out of the bank I had to pay double through bank cheque.

The minor surgery was to cost me Z$38 000 (380 trillion old currency). Alternatively, I could simply pay USD267, the nosy nurse said. My backside. The exchange rate would more than double the required Zim dollar equivalent! My only consolation was that the dentist came highly recommended and is one of the few remaining ENT (ear, nose and throat) experts in the country. I’d be damned if I let another quack touch my teeth.

So you can imagine I wasn’t in the best of moods as I made my way to the dentist until I met Joyce. As I trudged down 4th Street, I noticed the figure of a young woman a few yards ahead. At first she appeared to be losing her balance, falling slowly and ending up slumped next to a dirty trash. She was passed unnoticed by at least three people. When I caught up with her she was sobbing quite loudly and I was tempted to just also pass her because among other things, I was late for my dreaded appointment. However something inside me just wouldn’t let me leave her. I crouched next to her to ask what was wrong and to see if there was any way I could help.

Her sobbing transformed into downright mourning as she started an incoherent barrage of what was going on with her. She was just too damn tired of this life, she had walked all the way from Greendale where she stays with a sister; a single mother and they were struggling to make ends meet. She was exhausted and her legs were swelling and running out of strength. Above all, she hadn’t eaten a thing and she happened to be HIV positive and needed to take some medication. Her name was Joyce and she was 20 years old. While she continued her story, my eyes travelled along her skinny frame. Her short hair was strangely curly, her bony little hands were shaking slightly, and she was either suffering from kwashiorkor or simply pregnant. She also seemed too small for her age.

My first instinct was to think here was another itinerant just trying to swindle me out of my money with some pathetic little story. Instinctively I took out a hundred-dollar note and pressed it into her hands. Whatever her story was, I really needed to get a move on and she did look like she could do with a banana or two. Seeing there was nothing more I could do for her, I stood to leave and then she weakly tugged at my trouser leg. I had to bend really low to hear her. She thanked me and was glad that now she could afford more maize for her small business. She then asked me, “Why does God punish me by keeping me alive?” She had been on her way to Mbare, on foot, where she intended to buy some maize as evidenced by the empty rucksack she carried. I doubted she could carry 2kgs of maize. She could hardly carry her own weight.

We were beginning to gather a small audience. A curious sight we must have looked. Surprisingly, the audience remained just that, curious but not enough to actually want to help. After a while, two ladies stopped and I explained to them what had happened. One whipped out her posh cell phone and asked Joyce for a number of a relative or friend she could phone so that they could come and collect her.

Meanwhile, two police officers arrived at the scene and set up some sort of roadblock just a few meters away. I walked up to the female officer and explained what had happened. She listened intently and when I finished, she shrugged, smiled and told me I could never finish all the troubles of this world and I ought to watch out for lazy swindlers out to make a quick buck. With a slight wave of her hand she dismissed me saying that they would look into it. I felt a little better leaving her now that the police would take care of her. As I walked down the road, I kept turning back occasionally and not once did the officers make any move towards Joyce. Her lone figure next to the trash can get smaller and smaller until I could not see her anymore.

As the dentist pierced the insides of my gum with an anaesthetic laden needle I stared into the blinding light realising that the Z$100 note wouldn’t make any marked difference in her life. Again, only God knew how many other pedestrians just passed by and left her slumped there because they simply had nothing to offer her except pity. Others would simply be indifferent because after all, we all have problems.

Joyce, like everyone else has a right to a standard of living adequate for her health and well being, including food, clothing, medical care and social service. But if a person like herself develops bad molars, would she be able to fork out 380 trillion just to have one of them extracted? When she can hardly feed herself who has the duty to ensure that her right to access proper nutrition and medical healthcare is met? People like Joyce simply wither away and die silently. She is one of the Tarisais Mr. Magaisa talks about. Even by her dire standards, things have gotten worse recently.

As the dentist held my healthy molar up in the air it seemed to rebuke me in all its glory. There are people with far worse problems in this country and if you can have your molars fixed for 380 trillion, you are one of the privileged few.

I wondered what became of Joyce. I wondered how often we stop to think how lucky we are compared to others worse off than ourselves, and actually thank God for it rather than complain.

Joyce has been one of those encounters in life that keeps knocking at the back of my conscience. The kind that makes you keep asking yourself, could I have done more? What if it was me and all those people were ignoring me at the time I needed help the most? Life is not all that exciting in Zimbabwe nowadays for we have been reduced to considering ourselves extremely lucky each time we manage to salvage something to fill our stomachs or bump into headache tablets at the pharmacy and those are supposed to be such basic things.

But Joyce displayed a certain characteristic inherent in many a Zimbabwean – determination. Despite her dire circumstances, all she wanted to do was walk all the way to Mbare and buy maize for her small business, and lead a normal life.

Between 14-15 August, the Women’s Trust held a post-election review conference with the theme “Celebrating women’s leadership: Mapping our future.” Over 350 women and several men congregated at the Celebration Centre to share experiences and challenges from the Women Can Do It campaign. Another objective of the gathering was to develop a national strategy for women’s overall involvement in national structures of governance and in the view of ongoing talks, establish a united position concerning women’s expectations and what they would like to see in a new Zimbabwe. The post-election review also focused on the process of lessons learnt and celebrated this first ever successful campaign to empower women in national political processes.

Here are a few of the challenges faced by women candidates:

- Male candidates used political platforms to de-campaign women sometimes using derogatory remarks such as women who delve into politics have failed as wives.

- Lukewarm political party promotion and support of their women candidates. Often constituencies and wards were dictated for them and these were sometimes either the most inaccessible or the opposition stronghold they would obviously not win.

- Women found themselves pitted against opponents who had more financial resources – an aspect that greatly reduced their chances of success. Sometimes they could not afford to hire campaign vehicles or buy beasts with which to feed people at rallies.

- Women vigorously campaigned against other women from their opposition, an aspect that defeated the initial endeavour to empower women in politics, whatever their political dispensation.

- Partisan voter registration and education.

- Limited media exposure and difficulties in mobilizing especially in regard to enabling grassroots women to stand for office.

An overall view shows that violence and lack of resources remain the biggest hurdle women candidates faced.

The Women Can Do It campaign played a crucial but limited role in resource and material mobilization by providing fuel and campaign regalia among other things. The campaign also actively trained all parties’ candidates in public speaking, communication and leadership skills. It also campaigned vigorously at the national level for the recognition of women participants, an aspect that bolstered a lot of women to be emboldened enough to stand for office.

The resultant 14% representation of women in parliament can be directly attributed to the Women Can Do It campaign. As the representative from the MDC-T Women’s Assembly, Evelyn Masaiti put it, the campaign was an eye opener for a lot of women.

The conference challenged women who made it into office to represent the homeless, faceless ordinary citizen on the streets of Zimbabwe and not see this as an opportunity to amass wealth.

However while the few successful candidates indeed had something to celebrate, the majority of ordinary Zimbabwean women have nothing to celebrate. The violence surrounding the elections is still fresh in their minds and the ongoing talks keep hitting a brick wall making the future less and less certain.

A challenge went to the Minister of Women’s Affairs, Gender and Community Development, Hon. Oppah Muchinguri to expand dialogue on the issue of rape and violations of women’s bodies that characterized the elections. There was general consensus that little or nothing is being done to bring justice for victims of this and other kinds of violence.

I’ve taken an interest in a couple recent rulings in the halls of justice.  They have led me to think about the layers in understanding what women’s rights are about.  What I mean by layers is that it’s not just about the surface layer.  Being a woman is not necessarily the organizing principle around an assertion.  The woman part can be irrelevant.  It’s the rights part where the argument rests.  Yet when women assert their rights, often courts, the press, and donors play the “woman card” whether or not that’s the heart of matter.

The first person of note who had a day in court is a South African sex worker who made a claim to the Labour Court that a brothel-owning boss unlawfully terminated employment on the grounds of failing to give clients blow jobs. No doubt in South Africa and everywhere in the world it’s an important endeavor to critically examine the conditions around the degree sex work is by choice.  Definitely with an open mind that by choice is possible.  But in this case, why is the choice aspect of this sex worker’s history relevant?  After 18 years of service, she chose to take her claim of unlawful dismissal to court.  She lost and she’s heading to a higher court.  This is a labour issue.

The second person of note who had a day in court is a Kenyan claiming unlawful termination based on being HIV-positive.  The court ruled in favor of the plaintiff and awarded US$35,000.  I was impressed the headline of the story read:  Kenyan wins landmark HIV ruling.  Because really the woman part is irrelevant.  This is a labour issue.  But then I was disappointed when the first sentence read: A HIV-positive Kenyan woman has won… Why? Why is it relevant to insert woman into that first sentence?  What seems all too often systemically (sometimes subtly) embedded in knowledge production is over-reliance on highlighting womanhood as driving assertion of rights.  Whether it be knowledge generated through the press or donor dollars often there is too quick a leap to assume sex is relevant merely because the key voice is from a woman.  Moves in this direction potentially play a role in troublesome representations of women as poor, powerless victims without agency to think and act on their own behalf.

And since I touched on landmark HIV-related rulings.  The US has lifted the 21-year ban which prohibits HIV-positive foreigners from visiting the US.  I’m a firm believer that former US President Ronald Reagan’s religious right stance on HIV/AIDS from day one has had a devastating ripple effect across the globe.  This ban was his doing and I’m encouraged to see one of the many bad legacies of the Reagan years fading away.

Women have always played a critical role during times of conflict. Women had the power to influence their men’s behavior during war either by cheering them on through singing and dancing to militant songs, or they could appeal to the conscience of men at war by singing songs of peace and non- violence.

In times of conflict, often it is the women and children who suffer the most. It is they that bear the brunt of sourcing scarce basic commodities; taking care of the sick and in the middle of it all, are often sexually violated. Recognition of this vulnerability in times of conflict then forms the driving force that motivates women to agitate for peace.

Conflict, in simple terms, may be described as the relationship between two or more parties who have or who think they have incompatible goals.

Currently in Zimbabwe a lot of conflicts are taking place all at once and women and children are caught in the cross-fire. The clashes between the two main political parties have resulted in a lot of beatings, abductions, rape and inhuman torture. In the post-election period there continues to be reports of women who are still being held captive and raped in militia camps. Meanwhile the leadership deadlock continues. It seems the only hope for a lot of Zimbabweans hinges on the talks. However, even that is looking less and less hopeful; already shrouded in a lot of skepticism and having already missed the deadline. And . . . only about two women are present at those talks.

Conflict can only be resolved after careful mapping of all the concerned stakeholders. Representatives from all the groups of relevant stakeholders must be allowed the opportunity to come together for dialogue, where everyone’s concerns are tabled and discussed. Oftentimes it is the absence of dialogue that results in a lot of misunderstanding, suspicion and differences in perception simply because the one side does not know what the other thinks or feels.

In this context, a new member from the women’s movement has been born with the view to re-establish the crucial role that women have traditionally played in resolving conflict. Aptly named Envision Zimbabwe Women’s Trust, the organization, spearheaded by Fay Chung and Trudy Stevenson among others, is driven by the change they would like to see.

Among the Trust’s objectives is the need to agitate for accountability through seeking dialogue with existing power structures in order to address the various challenges affecting Zimbabweans, especially women. The group is also driven by a desire to bring perpetrators of violence to justice.

Envision Zimbabwe will be central in the process of conflict transformation through playing the intermediary role of presenting issues on the ground to relevant authorities as well as brokering the space for dialogue among all relevant stakeholders that is crucial for the realization of resolution to conflict.

WOZA’s courage and conviction continue to inspire Zimbabweans – including poet John Eppel who recently wrote a Song for WOZA.

This week, 300 members of WOZA and MOZA (Women / Men of Zimbabwe Arise) marched through the streets of Bulawayo without police interference – a welcome change from the 8 March International Women’s Day protest at which women were brutalised by riot police in Bulawayo. This week’s demonstration is also the first protest since the 28 May protest in Harare that resulted in 14 members being incarcerated in remand prison for several weeks.

According to WOZA, this week’s action aimed to draw politicians’ attention to “bread and roses” issues – bread representing food and roses representing the need for lasting dignity. The protest also sought to test the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) recently signed by Zimbabwe’s politicians to determine whether freedoms of expression and assembly truly have opened up.