The untold story of the African woman

Written by Peace Eneja

I thought I should write a post about the African woman. Now this is not the usual thing we see on the internet when you type the word "African woman ", although I'd say that Google has improved a lot in its representation of Africa. No longer the old images of black people almost starving to death, putting on tattered clothes, looking unkempt with their " kinky hair that can't make a pony tail". The old image of people who should be pitied and are in need of immediate help, like someone should call 911... lol. This post is about what I call the untold story of the African woman. I must say I'm proud to be an African and an African woman as a matter of fact. And this is my inspiration for this post.

 I was in the market few days ago, and I don't mean the supermarket, shopping mall, shoprite, shop good and all other fine names we give to well constructed shopping arena with air condition all over the place. What I mean is the "real market with the real people in there". The market we all know about even though some pretend never to have been there...lol. The open market with no shades, no air conditions instead we're often bombarded with the harshness of the sun and the rain sometimes gives us a little " shower" in case anyone forgot to do that before leaving the house *wink*. 

But I'm not trying to tell you about the market, I'm talking about the people in it. Women with their babies behind them and with trays on their heads trying to make a living, women who don't care how  sweaty they're just to put food on the table, girls who chase moving cars, sometimes on bare foot just to sell one last corn. As I walked through the market looking at them, I saw strength,  courage, persistence, patience and passion. I saw women who respect womanhood and chose to be under the sun "huzzling" rather than selling their bodies for money. I smiled at a customer and I guess she probably didn't know why I was smiling. I was admiring her bravery.

  And just last week I saw a young woman in her mid 30s driving a commercial bus in Enugu. People were thrilled by her action, the way she called for passengers and exchanged arguments with other bus drivers. That was a mother and a wife who wasn't ashamed and afraid to dare. I admired her courage.

Then I walked through the  organizations and offices, I saw women who wouldn't take no for an answer, who stay awake all night  and strive all day to get a project done, women who value hardwork and try so hard to achieve their dreams. Women who are able to balance the equation between making a living and making a home, and they do it so perfectly. Yes we have such women in Africa, don't be surprised. 

Again I walked through the sports stadium. I saw women running with their last strength, never ready to give up. Women who fight from start to finish, exceptionally good at what they do.

They're not just in the market, they're every where, doing so well in their own unique way. They should be recognised, they should be praised and they should be encouraged. They're real African women because they stand out among the crowd, like champions in a local town whose voices and deeds are hardly heard. But they never stop. They keep winning in their own small world and certainly one day, just one day the small things they do right will announce them, then the whole world'll know they exist! 

Thumps up to all African women out there. To all those in the market, in their offices, in the stadium, those matching the sewing machine right now creating something beautiful, those expresing their feelings, emotions and thoughts through arts, those in the kindergartens raising heroes. You all rock!