A viewpoint from a cultural crossroad

We Jackson men are known for our washing up skills. The old man is so keen in fact, that unwitting dinner guests often have their have their half-finished plates whisked away ninja style from under their noses to the kitchen.

My brother and sister and I were raised to do our fair share, and to value equality and fairness, in this case that if someone else had slaved over hot pots and pans all afternoon they should be allowed to put their feet up in front of Corrie afterwards.

Growing up our family had fairly fluid roles when it came to work and home life. My Mum successfully launched and ran several businesses and supported the family when my Dad was made redundant and decided to do his Masters degree. Perhaps nothing out of the ordinary today but it felt a bit special at the time to be picked up from school by your Dad who let you sit precariously on his bike's handlebars as we zig zagged down the hill past my friends walking home with their mothers.

This belief that although we might not be born the same, that we all have the right to be treated with equal respect and be given the same opportunities is fundamental. For me personally, it's part of what I think makes us human.

Although certain progressive strides have been made in Kenya (for example making female circumcision illegal), the general attitude here towards women still grates with me.

I'm told by an elder, 'Why would you wash your own clothes when you have sisters?' which is symptomatic of the male outlook. The conversation sticks with me and I keep seeing this attitude in the roles that are prescribed to men and women. For instance, to me it's entirely unfair when young women are expected to go out and work and then come home to fetch the water and do all the cooking, cleaning and washing whilst men are waited on.

It strikes me that culturally Luos are at a half way point between the new world (modern, educated women working in professional jobs) and the old one (preconceptions about women's work and place in the home). Elsewhere in society there are more serious social problems associated with this mind-set.  

This week I've spent time with local NGO Dev Link who work on promoting human rights and safety for women. Discrimination is rife when it comes to gender, reports of violence against women are often ignored and the HIV/AIDs epidemic has left huge numbers of vulnerable to abuse in the face of abject poverty.

The root causes are complex, but often stem from an old Luo tradition of men 'inheriting' wives in the event of a death of a husband. Salmon, a kind and compassionate programme manager at Dev Link tells me that in generations past the tradition was meant to protect and provide for women, to ensure that the deceased's name lived on.

A polygamous people, a brother-in-law or other close relative would traditionally take on the inheritance of the wife. In generations past, to have multiple wives signified success and the means to provide, and men with only one wife would not be permitted a voice in community discussions for this reason.

Although attitudes are changing and fewer and fewer Luos take multiple wives, the practice of inheritance still persists. Again, the old and the new clash, sometimes with grim consequences. Today, Rusinga has a transient population as poverty inland forces people to relocate away from their families to the coast to find work as fishermen. In parallel, the HIV epidemic (27% infection rate across the island at the last count) mean that there are more deaths and consequently more women left isolated from their extended families and without a dependable source of income.

Wife inheritance in this setting can become abusive, where women are often forced to accept the offer of a local man in the absence of their extended family in exchange for security. These men are often motivated by sex or wealth rather than the intention to support a grieving and vulnerable family. Violence is not uncommon in these circumstances, and I'm shaken by one case where an inherited wife was first abandoned whilst pregnant before being brutally attacked with a machete by the new husband. Luckily she survived, but there have been a number of murders involving wife inheritance. Dev Link tell me that they are seeing at least one new case like this every month, and estimate that many more go unreported.

Although Kenyans have a constitution of rights, actually accessing them is another matter. Corruption, favouritism and the sheer cost of travelling to and from court for trial has meant that accessing justice through the police and the judiciary is far from universal.

More broadly, many other widows are forced into a practice called 'Jabyoa' which is where women are forced to offer themselves sexually to fishermen in order to be given the chance to buy fish to sell on for a meagre profit in the local market. The practice is so ingrained that many women don't necessarily see a problem with Jaboya, or at least see it as a necessity or way of life here, yet the health impacts are severe and Jaboya is one of the driving factors of the region's significant HIV rate.  

Essentially the problems facing women are a product of poverty. A combination of a lack of education, lack of opportunities to earn a livelihood and poor access to healthcare result in the narrowing of choices and the accompanying social problems. 

It paints a bleak picture, and you'd be forgiven for thinking that the atmosphere on the beaches would be dark and depressed when actually the reverse is true. The women I meet and photograph smile brightly and laugh generously. They are enterprising, and more and more are running their own businesses and managing their own money.

Dev Link is run by a truly inspirational woman called Esther Soti who has set up several projects across the region where girls are rescued from early marriage and abusive relationships, has led campaigns against Jaboya and trains local women to become paralegals to handle human rights abuses in courts.

I hope that this is symptomatic of the next generation and broader cultural and systemic change. Attitudes are shifting slowly, and there is real hope that in the future women will not just be afforded their rights, but become the leaders in their communities, in business and in government.

Pivotal to long term change are like organisations like Alekii delivering primary education to girls to afford them choices in the way they choose to live their lives, who they chose to share them with, and how they make a living.

In the mean time for me it's back to the washing up. I know it's only small, but I'm teaching the younger boys in the family that if they want to play football, first you either cook or you have to do the dishes. That's only fair.