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Musu is lawyer and human rights defender from The Gambia. She has actively engaged in human rights promotion since she was 7 years old, advocating for the rights of children in The Gambia and elsewhere.
Through the five-part conversation curated by Eyala, Musu explores her experiences of girlhood and adolescence, drawing from her acts of resistance and where that has led her today. She discusses the paradox of her experience as a child bride despite her work in the human rights space and her visibility as a child activist. Musu also shares her story as a survivor of Female Genital Mutilation.
This conversation contains mentions of violence and abuse which may be triggering for readers. Kindly take a moment to decide if you want to keep reading.
You had been a renown advocate against child marriage for years, and yet you became a child bride yourself. Can you tell me more about that?
When I was 14 years old, my parents married me off to a man who lived abroad but would come to The Gambia twice a year. I had to be married to someone I didn’t know, whom I had never met, and who didn’t even live here. Often, these marriages are arranged between cousins, but I was not related to this man at all. His sister was a family friend, and that was how the marriage was arranged.
I was forced to go to his family home every weekend, even though he wasn’t here. There, I had to help with the cooking and cleaning. I was basically taking on adult responsibilities. My childhood ended quite early because I was forced to grow up. I wasn’t considered a child anymore. I was an adult because I was someone else’s wife. Hence, I had to act that way. I had to dress a certain way, and just do everything that is expected of a married adult woman in our society. It didn’t matter where I lived. These were the expectations.
What would you say was the biggest act of resistance of your girlhood or adolescence?
It was when I refused to be pulled out of school for marriage. I took the risk and threatened that I would commit suicide. I stopped talking to my family and refused to eat. I would always stay in bed and cry all day. The marriage had already happened, and I couldn’t do anything about it, but I knew that I had to do something so that my life wouldn’t end there. I didn’t know what the outcome would be, but it worked!
However, even though my plan worked, and I was still going to school, I was always afraid that I would wake up one day and be shipped off for marriage. It could have happened, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. The groom’s family could have rejected the arrangement at any point, and because I was now married into their family, my father wouldn’t have much power over what happens with me.
How would you describe your resistance in present times?
My resistance is about blatantly smashing patriarchy. With my evolution, I realise that I take the sexist things that men do to me very personal. So, I’m the person who goes to meetings and I shake tables. It is not because I want to, but usually because someone has made a derogatory comment about women, even in spaces that are created for women’s advancement.
I continue to resist, and I think this will be my life until the status quo changes. I will continue shaking those tables no matter how difficult it is, and I will continue using my voice and speaking out. At the end of the day, we need to change it for our children. I don’t want my child to grow up fighting the same things that I fought. I don’t want my child or any other girl to go through what we have been through. I’m not giving up!
Looking back at your journey of resistance from girlhood to date, how would you describe the impact it had on your life and the lives of other people?
I am hoping that I have been able to give someone hope and courage to understand that as women, there is power in our voices. Traveling across The Gambia and being able to uplift and support the women that I encounter has been impactful. My engagements focus heavily on the importance of education because I do not think that I would be where I am today if I weren’t educated.
Also, being able to lobby for the interests of women is one of the most fulfilling things that I’ve done. Knowing that I have inspired someone to use their power or give them hope that anything is possible if you really work towards, is what I live for. When I hear the feedback, it gives me hope.
I tell people that I don’t do this work for any recognition. It doesn’t get into my head when I receive an award. All I see is that I am not doing enough and that there are more women and girls who need me. My purpose is to change those theoretical things into practice so people will meaningfully benefit from them.
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