On being a living African feminist stan account
Françoise Moudouthe on feminist consciousness, the little ways to show support, and how the personal really is more political
One minute, I was writing an email to Françoise Moudouthe to confirm our interview the next day, and the next I was sending another in rapid succession, “CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!” It was a coincidence that our interview was a day after Françoise was showered with professional love notes on the news of her appointment as the incoming CEO of the African Women’s Development Fund.
And so our interview was filled with the cautious hope that one has in thinking that young feminist leadership is finally being valued, that the “feminist organization sector” could be changing, or that we ourselves are at least changing in that we are trying to not identify ourselves by our jobs. Françoise’s clear admiration for African feminists and prioritization of nurturing conversations, spaces, and relationships made our conversation a joy beyond the momentary happiness of a professional accomplishment that was celebrated collectively. She then unsurprisingly ended our talk by giving me some encouragement for this newsletter, showing again, that the little ways to show support and solidarity really do matter.
In conversation with Ani Hao, 15 minute read, 3300 words
Françoise Moudouthe at an Eyala Sisters’ Circle.
What was your first contact with feminist figures or learning more about activism and getting involved that way? Was it through volunteering, people you met, or jobs?
I think you meet people who embody feminism throughout your life, even if they don’t see themselves as feminists. What really thrust me into feminism was being given a work assignment that was out of my area of expertise.
You see, I studied conflict studies. I was very interested in analyzing conflict, understanding war, peace, and everything in between. That’s what I wanted to do, and that was the focus of my first (paid) job at The Elders. But then, about three months into the job, I was asked to think about what the strategy of The Elders should be for gender equality, and what women’s rights issue they should focus on. I spent about three months researching and talking to every feminist organization underneath the sun - it was like a crash course in women’s rights. Ultimately, we recommended that The Elders work on ending child marriage, which led me to help design and run The Elders’ campaign to end child marriage, and then to create Girls Not Brides as a global network for organizations and activists working on child marriage. Those were my first encounters with feminist activists.
What were you learning from those feminist activists and organizations? And how did they shape your own feminist journey?
What occurred to me throughout that whole process was that there were multiple forms of violence against girls and women, and those were presented to me as separate issues, but, they all seemed to be manifestations of one single fundamental problem. Like a disease with several symptoms, you know? I was mulling over that but couldn’t quite name it until I heard one of the Elders, Mrs Graça Machel, put my fuzzy impression into words. She said something like this: “The bottom line is that around the world, women are treated like third or fourth-class citizens. That was probably the first time I was introduced to a definition of patriarchy.
Fast forward, I was leading Girls Not Brides’ work in Africa, coordinating advocacy and learning for dozens of African NGOs. And we were working on issues, policies, theories of change, but I was also interested in the personal journeys of the feminists I was working with. What was driving them to do the work. How did they apply their feminist politics outside of the conference rooms? I started asking them questions, then I started asking myself the same questions, and I began my own transformation. It was a quest for alignment: how could I make sure to align my way of living my life, my way of thinking about things, to reflect the politics behind the policies I was advocating for at work? And at the time, I was building my family. So it was such an interesting moment of taking my politics home.
Are those the first conversations and experiences that inspired you to found Eyala - because you were just curious about people’s experiences and you wanted to document them?
Absolutely. I wanted to talk about that. I was so upset that I always had to steal time from the “official” agenda for the conversations that I found to be the most life-changing. Our meetings were always about girl’s education, and FGM, and child marriage… “the issues” as we called them. And I was like, can we also take thirty minutes to just talk about who we are and why we're in this room? And we would have these meetings, but we were never on the agenda, you know?
The other thing that bothered me was that feminists were constantly put under this huge pressure to perform. ‘You have to present about this issue in 10 minutes!’ So what happened is that we would hear the same people speak about the same issues a million times, and still we had no idea who they were, beyond name - country - organization. Because we didn’t have that personal connection, we spent time together but we didn't know each other. I realized how problematic that was when I went through burnout. It was really difficult to explain to people who didn’t work in this field, that the nature of my work - not just the amount of work - was something that was contributing to my exhaustion. But those who could have understood were strangers. You know, you wouldn’t take your pain to someone that you’ve been in performative situations with.
I grew so frustrated with those gatherings! I ended up thinking,“You know, if you don’t find space for the conversations you want to have, then you have to create it. That led to me setting up Eyala, and having honest, pressure-free conversations with African feminists about who we are beyond the work we do.
What period of time were you experiencing burnout, and did that coincide with - I mean, I already imagined that Eyala was part of a healing experience for you - did that directly coincide [with setting up Eyala]?
I think in terms of timing, I would say that Eyala came after [the burnout]. I became very overworked at Girls Not Brides because I worked as a one-woman Africa team for a couple of years. At some point, I got so tired. And then I had my second child, my daughter. I said, phew! I needed support so I hired a team, which I was managing remotely, but the work was still so much.
And I realized that I needed to talk to someone, beyond the people who love me, but the people who understand what I do. So I had a lot of conversations with other African feminists - the kind that you can now read on Eyala. I found so much growth and healing in these conversations. I was doing it for myself at first, then I realized that if those conversations had helped me, they might help others.
The thing about sisterhood is, we can’t be sisters just as a byproduct of us hanging out in the same conferences. If we don’t invest in filling that personal connection gap, then can we say that we are building a movement? Are we just gathering people in the same room and pretending we are bringing them together? It’s not the same thing.
It’s a beautiful project and I’m sure that you receive so much feedback. What have some people told you about Eyala? How have they felt about the writing or how have they participated in these spaces? There have also been physical meetings, right?
I was surprised by the feedback I got from women who are not necessarily interested or invested in feminist activism. They told me that Eyala helped them understand that feminists are just normal human beings who are thinking about the injustices in the world and want to do something about it. I realized that Eyala’s added value, to them, was the focus on African feminists’ experiences, not just their expertise.
For example, I interviewed Dinah Musidarwezo, a Rwandan feminist. One of the things we spoke about is how she stood up to her father during her wedding preparations, and refused for her husband-to-be to pay the bride price. The reaction I got from everyday, non-feminist African women was bigger than any theoretical conversation about bride price. Feminist theory matters of course, but people don’t relate to expertise, they relate to experience, so Eyala is giving a different entry point, you know? Some people have told me that Eyala has helped create a feminist consciousness in them. That has been extremely precious and unexpected feedback.
Photo credit: Angelina U. Nwachukwu
Tell me about the Eyala Sisters’ Circles.
Ah, the Sisters’ Circles! It was an intuition I had that the Eyala conversations should not be one-to-one. When you put African feminists in the same room and you just tell them: everything here is confidential, there is no agenda so your words won’t be used for anything, and there is no need to perform... What happens is just pure magic. There hasn’t been a single Sisters’ Circle that hasn’t ended in crying. Because we tell everyone, please make yourself comfortable, take your shoes off, and everything that happens in the circle stays in the circle.
That sounds so different from what I would call professional feminist spaces. You mention how Eyala attracted people who don’t primarily identify themselves as feminists, but who began to develop a feminist consciousness. In the physical meetings, did you have to do any work to facilitate different politics or differences of opinions?
I really welcome differences of opinions. So far I’ve hosted about five Sisters’ Circles. One of the last ones that we did was in Niger. I had Nigerien friends who were telling me, are you sure you want to talk about gender roles in Niger? Because it’s a conservative society, and there is a stigma talking about feminism in Niger.
Well let me tell you, women in Niger are one of the most underestimated women on the planet. It was so interesting because every opinion was being freely expressed in the room, even on issues that are so touchy in Niger, like religion, marriage, etc. You can’t really anticipate what happens, because people get upset, people disagree. And you put yourself out there to people that you don’t know, and you ask them to do the same. But the biggest thing is to establish trust, and the difference of opinions becomes powerful rather than problematic.
That sounds like something that is so much more conducive to a physical, face to face conversation than over the internet. At the same time, so many feminist projects are digital and virtual and over the internet. And Eyala is mostly virtual, I want to say. Do you also establish trust with people who interact with you or over the website?
I think it hasn’t been a big issue because so far, I’ve done Eyala mostly on my own, and since I just treat people [I meet through and because of Eyala] the way that I treat people in real life, which is with respect and kindness, etc. That helps with trust. But it doesn’t help with efficiency - because when you’re on your own, you’re not efficient.
I think it’s going to be an interesting challenge now that I’m going into a full time job. So far, people see Eyala and they see Françoise, [but] I’m no longer in a position to run Eyala. So I’m trying to transition Eyala into something collective while I take a step back and become an advisor
Sorry - I have another child who came into the room. [conversation in French]
I think your kids are very curious about your job!
Yes, they are always wondering who I’m talking to all day. So I was saying that handing over to a team will make Eyala more efficient. But my biggest challenge is that the ethos is respected.
The ethos.
Yes, the ethos. The heart of it. This is what will determine if the transition is successful. Not whether we will have a bigger audience or if social media is more consistent - but if Eyala can keep its heart and its ethos: everything I was saying about intimacy, no performance, kindness and trust.
So is your ethos the way that you establish trust, treat people, and things like that? Or are you also thinking about the ethics of interviewing, the ethics of privacy, etc?
It’s both. And it’s not just my personal ethos, it’s feminist ethos. At some point I was writing Eyala’s strategy and I was thinking about the values. And I realized that Eyala’s values are my values. It’s to be intentionally kind - to be absolutely feminist, no questions asked, very inclusive of different perspectives, very brave in terms of being personal, and also being very political, feminist. These are feminist values.
The thing with values is, they must show up across all the parts of the work - in this case, this includes the way the interviewer does their job. So that makes the interviewing part more complicated than if I cared less about values. For example, I prefer to have more of a conversation rather than sending the questions in advance. And I always send the interview before it’s published as well, like, here is what I’m about to publish.
I say this to so many people like this is not actually not something that is commonly done. I mean, you must know that, right. It’s terrible.
Yeah! Because a really long time passes between when an interview is recorded and when it’s published. I think it’s only fair that people should be able to change their minds [about what they’ve said ages ago]. That makes the process more complicated, but that’s the cost of ensuring that the values are a part of the process. It’s not just the what, it’s also the how. All the parts of the how, they need to reflect the values.
Have you been reflecting on the conversations or allegations of misaligned values and practices in general in these organizations that we know, social justice organizations? Does it seem simple to put values into practice or does it seem so hard that it's just not happening?
Well of course, I’ve been reflecting, because who hasn’t? As a young Black woman who has been working in the international development sector for a while - the first thing that you see is that lack of alignment. The moment that you step into that organization. Especially when you’re young, and you’re starry-eyed. You chose this path. Because you thought that your personal values and the organizational values are aligned. And then in two, three weeks you realize - the way that the meetings are run, who gets to speak, who do we work with. And in two, three weeks you’re like, “Woo!”. [laughs]
So we’ve been discussing this as young, Black women in the development sector. We’ve been trading stories and survival tips. In the past few months, with so-called global reckoning, it kind of feels like all of our secret WhatsApp conversations are out there on Twitter!
Still, not even all of them! Maybe some of them.
Sure. Maybe - I think it’s great that this is happening but I also think it takes a huge toll. Everyone who has been ignoring Black women for years is now turning to us, asking, “What is the solution?” It’s not because I’ve experienced [injustice] that I can hand you a ready-to-use solution. Actually, I’m still processing my pain.
I also wonder why people who ask these questions are doing so. Are you listening because you want to tick the box? Or are you really ready for transformative, co-creating conversations? I just happen to not be working for any organization at the moment, but I’m supporting other organizations in different capacities. And it takes a toll. How authentic are these organizations when they tell you that they want to do the work? I feel like it’s an opportunity but I’m also very aware that there are many risks for us. The risk of being told that there’s progress when there really isn’t. There’s the risk of being used or being tokenized. There’s so many risks for Black women at the moment. Let’s embrace the opportunity and do the work but, let’s keep our eyes open. That just means, let’s support each other.
That’s how I ended up doing Eyala’s first-ever virtual Sisters’ Circle, because a few feminist sisters had asked me, “Sister, will you please convene one?” I was worried about not being able to recreate intimacy and trust when we were all behind screens, but the same magic happened.
They still cried! Virtually.
Yes. I cried! I realize how needed these conversations are in international development spaces at the moment. We are fighting really hard because this is a window we haven’t had before. We need to support each other and lift each other up because this is really heavy stuff.
Have you thought about how you’re going to protect your energy and yourself as you transition into not only not only a full-time, but just an extremely demanding visible leadership position as the CEO of the African Women’s Development Fund?
I’m thinking about it. I can’t really tell you exactly [what I’m going to do] but I’m thinking about it! It will be important for me to not replicate some issues I’ve had with previous jobs where I thought, “You are your work”. So really anticipating and trying to learn from previous experiences. Also, therapy is a big part of protecting my energy. And spending time alone too.
You know, when AWDF announced my appointment the other day, I had such great responses, but the best tip I received was from a feminist sister in Nigeria named Osai Ojigho. She told me, “Remember who you are. And hold on to who you are.” It sounds like this stupid thing that you see on Instagram, but it was so important to me. Who I am probably what got me the job. And I know I am not necessarily what is expected of someone in this position. I think that there is going to be this pressure to fit the mould, but fitting the mould has always gotten me in trouble. I think I’m going to put Osai’s words on a sticker!
Put it on a sticker! In your wallet, in your mirror.
Absolutely.
I saw that you’re supporting a lot of recent young feminist organizing on the continent. Is that something that you’ve always done as Eyala, is that something that you’re going to formalize more in your new role? Sometimes I feel like I'm a little bit within the funding sector, and sometimes the funds don’t know how to engage with the current moment and respond at the same velocity of what’s happening. There’s just a lot happening in Nigeria and Namibia and Zimbabwe.
I can’t tell you what I’m going to do in my new role, not yet. I haven’t even started yet! What I can tell you is who I am and what I care about. I care about African feminists supporting each other in many ways. Sometimes, the little ways of supporting each other are overlooked, but are very significant. Telling someone that they’re doing great. Or running a platform and amplifying somebody’s work. Or donating a little money if we can afford it. Sometimes we don’t do the small things because we’re aiming for the bigger things. But every single little bit counts.
I think there's something that my friend told me, “You are a living feminist stan account.” I am always rooting for African feminists, all the time. I really am. I choose deliberately, as a consultant, projects that allow me to do that. If I had to choose a line of work, it would be only to work for African feminists. That’s why I am so excited about this job.
Do you have any questions for me or anything that you specifically wanted to talk about?
I don’t have a question for you but I want to tell you that I really like your newsletter. I know that it takes a lot of work for you to produce quality interviews on a regular basis. I know it’s hard, but keep at it, your work is important.
Thank you so much for this beautiful interview, Françoise. Follow her at @EyalaBlog and @F_Moudouthe.
Thanks for making it this far! And a huge thank you to every single person who completed the first ever New Wave Directions survey, which was so useful that I decided to do it more regularly. You can still fill it in - it has been incredibly useful to establish this kind of exchange. I took every single piece of feedback into account, and this will directly influence future New Wave editions, editorial strategy, and more. I’ll share some of the concrete results from this survey and how I’ll address them very soon.
Something that consistently came up was that people would love to meet each other. Since I need to do some writing and I find it best to practice writing with other writers and feminists, I’ve decided to host a New Wave Writers’ Group, where we will gather virtually and write (mostly) in silence for an hour and a half, after introductions of course! Non-writers are also welcome, if you’re comfortable working in silence but also in community. Here is a Doodle for scheduling options if you’d like to choose your preferences for a time before the event goes live. I’ll send an event invite in next week’s edition.
See you next week!
Thank you for another incredible interview. <3 Going to be thinking about these words for a loooong time: "The thing about sisterhood is, we can’t be sisters just as a byproduct of us hanging out in the same conferences. If we don’t invest in filling that personal connection gap, then can we say that we are building a movement?"
So much to hold on to and come back to. Thank you Ani, thank you Françoise!