Today I am compelled to write, to speak my voice and to give a name and a face the protest that was held inside my dream last night. Some days ago, I experienced another episode of sexism. But before the event happened, I was already having a conversation with the perpetrator about their sexist behavior.
I have been feeling like fleeing, and feeling the fire slowly seeping out of me but doing all I can to hold on until my work contract is signed. But internally, I am tired, of shutting up to put up. And now the silent protest has begun. In the dream I was at a meeting at the University and some women were sitting at the other end looking rejected, sad as if they had been discriminated against. When one of their male co-workers began to speak on their behalf and deny their voice, they began to sing out in protest. They refused to be ignored and spoken for.
Male patriarchy in Uganda, is slapping me in the face and inside I am bruised and those bruises are not healing until I have spoken my voice. Just the other day I was boarding a public taxi of which I refused to pay for until I checked they had the type of sitting arrangement that would be most conducive to my three hour trip. The luggage man, thought I did not have to right to check out the service before making the purchase, so he attempted to push me out of the bus, but he met with a reaction for which he was not prepared. Then just the other day at my work place, my "boss" screamed and belittled me, in front of other co-workers and my son. I was upset, but after a three hour bus ride, I calmed myself down and talked myself into forgiveness only to have the silent protest raise itself inside my head.
What to do? That I don't have the answer to yet. I only feel like I want to explode. I have tried to contact some of the women's organizations here but have been met with silence. So, I am waiting, waiting for the day for the protest to no longer be silenced.