A woman’s worth — redefining the narrative

In the second solo episode of my podcast, *Konversations with Kui*; I focused on a topic that is incredibly close to my heart. That is, how we define a woman’s worth. More specifically, why do we continue to measure African women’s worth purely based on their marital and motherhood status? Why does society’s approval of women, hinge on these two things? It is a topic that I have contemplated on for many years; further inspired by a conversation that I once had with a remarkable 7-year-old girl who was my then next-door neighbour. The conversation with this young girl left such an indelible impression on me that I wrote about it. To set the scene for this piece, allow me to recap what I wrote many years ago…

I started off the writing by quoting one of my favourite authors, the brilliant Chimamanda Adichie Ngozi:

“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, you can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful. Otherwise, you will threaten the man. Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important. Now marriage can be a source of joy, love and mutual support, but why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage and we don’t teach boys the same? We raise girls to see each other as competitors not for jobs or accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men…”

I’ve always loved this quote, but lately it has taken on an even different meaning as a result of my interactions with an amazing seven-year-old girl, who clearly thinks that my life is somehow curious, awkward and insufficient. This is an example of our conversations:

Seven-year-old: Auntie Kui, do you have a husband?

Me: No, I don’t.

Seven-year-old: So, you just live in this ‘big house’ of yours all alone? You don’t get lonely? You should get a husband…

Right.

I can’t quite remember what my response to her was, but I remember fumbling for something intelligent sounding to say, and eventually being grateful that I had some chocolate nearby that I could distract her with.

This was another one of our conversations:

Seven-year-old old: How old are you Auntie Kui?

Me: Old enough.

Seven-year-old: Are you like in your 30’s?

Me: Yes.

Seven-year-old: And you don’t have a baby yet? (then she proceeds to tell me…) When I am 30, my [first] baby will be six years old.

Me: (Slightly taken aback and wondering how to proceed with this conversation ask…) you’ve even already planned it?

Seven-year-old: (Ignores my above question, because really Auntie Kui who would not have already planned for something like that by the time they were seven years of age?! She probably inwardly rolled her eyes at me at this stage).

Me: (In an attempt to kill the conversation, say in my most adult-like voice) you’re too young to be thinking about babies. Having babies is not a bad thing, but you should be thinking about other things like your education. (At this point I’m feeling very pleased with myself thinking that I’ve of course ended this conversation but alas!)

Seven-year-old: What if you get to like 110 years old and you don’t have babies?

Me: (Stifling a chuckle and unsure how to respond) Have you ever heard of anyone who died because they didn’t have babies? (Surely this must have now killed this conversation…but no…Miss seven-year-old is a smarty-pants and always has a comeback!)

Seven-year-old: Well, I don’t know! (said in that tone of…duh?! I’m only seven, how do you expect me to have such information)

Fair enough. Maybe there are people who have died because they never had children — even I, who was then in my 30’s — did not have this information.

Whenever I interacted with this young girl I was simply amazed at her confidence, and I often thought to myself “one day, she will make a phenomenal leader or trail-blazer in whatever field she chooses.” But seemingly, her greatest and primary aspiration in life was to get a husband and have some babies. Whilst her aspirations are fair, and she is certainly entitled to make her own life choices without others, including myself, imposing our views and values on her; this saddens me.

I am no stranger to these sorts of views about marriage and babies. I get them all the time from the older generation and from some of my misguided peers. However, when it comes from a seven-year-old girl, it simply saddens me. What does it say about our society that young girls who have not yet even reached puberty, are already worrying about having husbands and children? More importantly, that they perceive those who do not have these things as somehow lacking or ‘abnormal’? It is saddening that we are teaching our girls that their self-worth is pegged only or primarily, on being either a wife or a mother. That these girls will not grow up to view themselves as worthy human beings in and of themselves, unless their identity is attached to having a husband and/or children.

I imagine that marriage with the right partner and motherhood, can be sources of immense joy and fulfilment. However, these two things cannot and should not be the yardstick with which we measure women’s worth. To quote Chimamanda again, “[We] speak of the title Mrs. as though those who are not Mrs. have somehow failed at something. Mrs. can be a choice, but to infuse it with as much value as our culture does, is disturbing.” Perhaps, even more frustrating is that all too often it is women themselves who propagate this very flawed way of thinking. We are a long way from achieving gender equity in many aspects both here in my country Kenya and globally. Nonetheless, many women have gone ahead of us and fought tireless battles — sometimes at great personal cost — to improve our status. It is because of them that we enjoy many previously unavailable opportunities such as equal access to education, improved political agency, better access to leadership spaces, the ability to work outside the home, own businesses and so much more. Yet we, women who are fortunate enough to enjoy these and many other opportunities, make a mockery of the sacrifices and efforts of our predecessors, by reducing women’s worth solely to their ability to “snag a man and have babies”.

So, this is my plea to all people out there raising daughters (and sons): Teach your children that girls and women are worthy human beings in and of themselves. And whilst marriage and motherhood can be great things, it is ultimately a choice. Let them know that choosing a different path does not make them any less worthy nor does it invalidate their contribution to society. Teach them that, in addition to being mothers and wives should they so choose, they can be so much more. That they can go against the grain and be anything that they want to be, in whichever field they choose. But mostly, teach them to value themselves just as they are, so that they do not rely on external factors to define their self-worth.

Now, back to my reflection on the podcast: I wrote that piece, about 9 years ago now, in response to the conversations with the young girl; because I was really trying to make sense of why we socialize our girls in this way, and hopefully start a conversation around it. To understand why we reduce and narrow women & girl’s value to only these two things. In my view, marriage and motherhood is only one part of a woman’s identity. It is not their entire existence. I think we do women a great disservice when we completely minimize all other aspects of their lives and over-glorify this one aspect. Women are whole and worthy beings in and of themselves, and do not require external validation to be so; not even from a wedding ring or womb that has carried children.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have said this before and I will say it again: I have absolutely nothing against marriage or motherhood. What I have a problem with is people acting as though there is only one way to live life; and then shaming and judging those of us who live differently or make different choices. Just as we are diverse as human beings; there are multiple ways to live life. Each with its joys and sorrows. For example, while it would be wonderful to have a life partner to share the burdens of life with; I love that — as an unmarried, child-free woman — I have a lot of freedom and independence. I can choose how I organize my own life; I have the freedom to make my own financial decisions; I have the freedom to choose where I live and work; I have the freedom to decide how I spend my time and with whom; if and when I travel; and I can independently make so many choices and decisions without having to factor in anyone else.

To me, the freedom that comes with being single is a gift that we so often undervalue, because we (ourselves and society at large); are always so focused on what we don’t have. While doing life alone can sometimes get lonely, chosen solitude can be restorative. You get to choose when and how you interact with the world; and you build a supportive community of care around you who become your chosen family. I, for example, am surrounded by such wonderful friends who enrich my life in so many ways.

So to me, there is no right or wrong way, there is just life. And our job is to live our best lives, regardless of where in the life course we find ourselves; whether we’re gloriously single, married, dating, waiting patiently, parenting alone, co-parenting or whatever else. Live as authentically and as fully as you can wherever you find yourself in life. Choose to write the narrative of your own life, do not let others define it for you. It is your life. And as my father once told me, “learn to block out the noise because there will always be plenty of it.”

I want to wrap up by sharing some advice that a dear friend of mine once gave me. He said to me: “You know Kui, you need to treat romantic relationships and marriage like icing on a cake. Let’s say for example, a chocolate cake or a fruit cake. Even without any icing, that cake would still be whole and delicious; and you will still thoroughly enjoy it. Now you could choose to add icing to that cake, which might make it a bit sweeter, but even without it, that cake is still whole. You can eat a cake without icing and enjoy it, but the reverse is not true.” And so, my dear reader, it is my sincere hope for you that you will not make something that should be the icing on your cake, to be the centre of your entire life. Ask yourself, what would your life look like, if your worth was not tied to external validation?

If you enjoyed this reflection of a woman’s worth or it resonated with you, you can find the full video episode of Konversations with Kui on YouTube; or on Spotify and Apple Podcasts for the audio versions.

May we all find freedom in living our truth, and courage in vulnerability.