Real Exploitation of Women in Kenya

For the past five years, Achieng(not real name), a 35-year-old widow and mother of six, has sold fish on the Kenyan shores of Lake Victoria; like many women in the fish trade, Achieng often has to have sex with fishermen in order to get the best catch of the day, a system known in the local Luo language as 'jaboya'.

"When you are a woman and you want to get into the business of selling fish, you must be ready to lose your pride and use your body for bargaining," she told IRIN/PlusNews. "Being ready to give sex as and when it is needed by the fishermen... it guarantees your survival here on the beach."

'Jaboya' has long been associated with the high levels of HIV infection in Kenya's western Nyanza Province, where HIV prevalence is over 14.9 percent, double the national average of 7.4 percent. It is even higher among fishing communities. The Kenya HIV Prevention Response and Modes of Transmission Analysis 2009 reported that HIV prevalence among fishing communities stands at 30 percent, while an estimated 25 percent of all new infections in Nyanza are attributed to this group.

An estimated 27,000 women are involved in the fish trade in Nyanza either directly or indirectly, according to the Ministry of Fisheries.

Achieng says she is aware of the risks, but the immediate needs of her family override any concern she may have about contracting HIV.

"You know you can get HIV... but then you remember you have a family that needs to be provided for, and you say, let me die providing for them," she said.
According to Charles Okal, the provincial AIDS and sexually transmitted infections coordinator for Nyanza, while efforts to reach out to fishing communities with HIV prevention messages have begun to show results, the continued poverty of women means they remain vulnerable to 'jaboya'.

"Fish trade that goes along with sex-for-fish continues to be one of the greatest challenges in the prevention of HIV in Nyanza... There are still challenges which involve the economic and social vulnerabilities of the women involved in the trade," he said.

Economic empowerment

A recent donation of six boats to women's groups in Nyanza by the US Peace Corps shows some of the ways 'jaboya' can be addressed; the women are able to fish for themselves, eliminating dependence on fishermen.

"When you have nothing, those who have something must tell you to bend over backwards for them. Now we have boats and we will no longer be at anybody's mercy," Millicent Onyango, one of the beneficiaries of the US Peace Corps' "No Sex for Fish" project.

According to Okeyo Owuor, director of the Victoria Institute for Research on Environment and Development, which is part of the initiative, empowering women economically is key to ending the dangerous fish-for-sex trade. "These women need fish but they don't own any boat. This means they have to play along with whoever has the boat and these are men who will demand for sex before giving any fish. But when you empower them to own the boat, then they have the ultimate power to say no to sexual demands," he said.

"Six boats might look small but many such initiatives can make an impact in ending the sex-for-fish trade if replicated over time. It is important to start from somewhere," he added.

Many of the women trading in fish across Lake Victoria's landing sites have formed groups to help them save money to buy their own fishing equipment.

"We want to help ourselves by putting some of our savings aside so that when we have enough, we can buy our own boats and nets and help each other. So we will have nearly all women who are at the beaches own a boat either individually, or as a group," said Lillian Rajula, the leader of one such group.

According to Nyanza AIDS coordinator Okal, economic programmes must go hand in hand with other HIV prevention methods like the promotion of voluntary medical male circumcision, condom use and behaviour change communication. 

"Apart from the need to empower the women, behaviour change communication targeting men is important so that they look at the women as business partners and not sex partners; these kind of efforts are ongoing and are being embraced, albeit slowly," he said.

By Sreejesh Kaipully

Women’s Eden

By Paola Brigneti

In August 201, Kenya promulgated a new Constitution which promised the right to own property to “every person,” and the “equitable access to land” and “security of land rights.” As this new constitution went into place, there was no acknowledgment of women’s historical landlessness situation in the country. In fact, despite this new language, many women in Kenya are still without land and, in the cases in which they are entitled to their husbands’ land, their rights are trampled by traditional beliefs and practices.

If the Kenyan Constitution gives women the right to own land, why do women still face challenges when it comes to asserting this right? In most cases, it’s men who get in the way between women and their rights and, as reported by Human Rights Watch, an international nongovernmental organization, customary laws in sub-Saharan Africa have greater influence than civil law when it comes to women’s property rights.

For example, in Kenya, many ethnic groups believe that land and other property owned by a woman, whether acquired before or during the marriage, belongs to her husband. By this standard, men can sell the land without getting a woman’s consent. Women are only believed to have a role in taking care of the property. Even if her husband dies, the land will not belong to her, but will be inherited by her husband’s family. In this last case, women are likely to be ostracized because they are seen as a burden to the political family.

The traditional views on women’s ownership of land are reflected well in a saying used in Northern Kenya’s Samburu culture, where men are believed to be the head of a body, and women are believed to be the neck. As the neck, women support the head, but the head, which represents men, is always dominant and always towers above. In other words, no matter how much work women do in the household, or to support their families, men will always have the upper hand and the final decision. In the specific case of land, it means that men will over prevail over women.

There is a place in Kenya, however, where women are their own heads in addition to their own supporting neck. That place is the village of Umoja, which means unity in Swahili.

Umoja is a community comprised of only women—with the exception of men who were raised in the village—most of whom have been abused, raped, or expelled from their homes due to reasons like becoming a widow, and thus being a burden to the late husband’s family.

In Umoja women can find a safe haven from the traditional roles and beliefs that usually prevent them from becoming the best person they can be.  

For the 22 years it has existed, women not only have been able to own land in Umoja, but they are able to receive an education, save their own money, and invest in their community as they see fit.  Most importantly, in Umoja, women have created a place free from violence, oppression and discrimination.

The impact of this village formed by 48 women from all across Kenya has spread to other communities in the area. Women from neighboring villages come to Umoja to attend workshops, receive education, and learn about human rights, gender equality, and violence prevention. Having created a women-friendly community, Umoja women are actively engaged in bringing the same ideals to other women as well.  They are planting the seeds for the future.

The story behind many women in Umoja would automatically put them in a vulnerable position anywhere else in Kenya. The hardships they have had to endure make them more likely, in general, to be in a susceptible position in society. But, instead, they have become leaders of their community and are working towards changing the status quo.

Umoja’s main income source is derived from the sale of beadwork, profits from a nearby campsite, and from a cultural center.  All funds are collectively used to support all the residents in the community.

The beauty of this does not only lie in the trust and generosity of all community members, but also in the fact that Umoja provides a clear example of what research has long tried to explain: When women are able and free to fulfill their fullest potential, they are able to work, save money and—this is unique to women—invest back in their communities to make them stronger. When not restrained by cultural norms, women are the best developers of their own communities.

If this does not show that women do not need an extra head over their necks, then what will?  I think the head analogy would be better used to exemplify the burden that men can be in women’s lives.

Umoja might look like a dream to many people. Some might think it is an impossible system to recreate because it goes against the deeply seated traditional practices and beliefs. However, as the Swahili proverb says Haba Na Haba Hujaza Kibaba (little by little fills the pot). Every great journey begins with a single mile.  In Umoja, over 20 years ago, a handful of women began a journey towards freedom, independence, peace and happiness. They probably began that journey with a single step, little by little, and they have certainly achieved a lot since then.

Let’s hope this phenomenon spreads, even if it is just little by little, and we start seeing Umoja become more of a rule and less of an exception. I truly believe that would make for a better world.