How Activist Rugiatu Turay Is Taking On FGM In Sierra Leone

TW: This article contains descriptions of FGM

Rugiatu Turay was 11 years old when she underwent female genital mutilation (FGM). It was part of an initiation into the female-only Bondo Society in Sierra Leone, a secretive group that is supposed to prepare girls for adulthood.

While there are several ancient societies like this in the country, Bondo is the biggest and the vast majority of the female population belong to it. Most girls do not join until early adolescence, and many of them yearn to be members because it gives them a sense of status and belonging within the community. One rule of the Bondo Society is that non-members should not know what the initiation rites are until it is their time to join.

Rugiatu was excited to join the group – she had seen its members dancing in the streets, dressed in matching white head wraps. 

“I had been looking forward to it because I always liked to dance. I did not know I was going to be cut,” she says, referring to a practice where all or part of a woman’s external genitalia is removed, usually focusing on the clitoris – without any anaesthetic.

Turay was taken by some female relatives to a forested area on the outskirts of her town, known as the ‘Bondo bush’. She was accompanied by her two older sisters, her younger sister, aged five, and her cousin: all of them would be initiated together.

A group of older women waited there. They blindfolded the girls and told Rugiatu to lie down. Moments later, she felt hands all over her body, pinning her to the ground. 

“My mother had warned me not to allow anyone to touch my private parts,” she says, “So I fought when they put their hands on me. I fought hard, but they added pressure on my chest. Then I felt the sharp cut.” Her mother, who might have prevented the ritual from going ahead, had died two weeks previously.

After what happened to her, Rugiatu has dedicated her life to fighting FGM in Sierra Leone. In 2003, she founded an organisation called The Amazonian Initiative Movement (AIM). It not only lobbies the government to outlaw the practice but also spreads awareness about the consequences of FGM. These can include chronic pain and infections, infertility, sexual dysfunction, mental health problems and even death.  

AIM also provides education for women as the practice is most prevalent in regions with low literacy rates. “Women want to learn to read and write,” says Rugiatu. “After they attend our classes, these women will then pay more attention to the education of their daughters. It is not just fighting to end FGM, it is about changing mentalities. 

Perhaps AIM’s work is paying off – according to government statistics, rates are slowly declining. Today in Sierra Leone, 90% of women aged 45-49 have been cut compared to 61% of those aged 15-19. Even so, the country still has one of the highest rates of FGM in the world. Sierra Leone’s president, Maada Bio, said that as the practice is so popular, banning it would be “political suicide”.

Rugiatu’s work is often met with hostility, especially in rural areas. She has received death threats, both in person and on social media. A member of her staff had to go into hiding after being chased out of a village where she was conducting an awareness campaign. 

“People say I am influenced by Western ideas and that I am disturbing our culture,” says Rugiatu. “Yet I am speaking as a survivor of the practice. I didn’t just go through it, I almost lost my life.” 

After she was cut, Rugiatu could not pass urine for days and suffered a near-fatal infection. Her 13-year-old cousin, who underwent the practice the same year, died of tetanus as she was cut with an unclean knife. 

Rugiatu does not want to abolish all aspects of the Bondo society, just the harmful ones. During the two-week initiation ceremony, girls are also taught to dance and cook, supposedly in preparation for marriage. “Culture is not static, it changes over time. We have to examine the culture to see what is it that we like about it, and what is it that we don’t like,” she says. 

One of AIM’s objectives is to get people talking about FGM. Staff at the NGO inform girls about what happens at the secretive initiation ceremonies and run discussion groups with men in villages. They also engage with the female elders, known as ‘Soweis’, who perform the cutting ritual. Rugiatu believes that educating them and helping them find alternative jobs is crucial in curtailing the practice. 

So far, AIM has persuaded 400 Soweis in more than 100 villages to put down their knives. It has also converted seven ‘Bondo bush’ areas into schools.

But it is not always easy to persuade the women involved to stop practising FGM. Zainab Batewa, a Sowei who lives in the captial city Freetown, says that she is simply providing a popular service. “Girls want it, if they have not had it done, other women will not talk to them,” she says, “They will be mocked in the streets.” Sentiments such as these show there is still huge work to be done to offset ideas that those who are uninitiated are impure, says Rugiatu. 

When the Ebola virus tore through Sierra Leone in 2014 and 2015, the government temporarily prohibited FGM to reduce the spread of the disease. Soweis who were caught cutting women or girls were fined, and, by and large, the ban was effective. To Rugiatu, this proved that if only there were political will, the practice could be stopped. 

But those in power need to prioritise women’s health over their short-term popularity if they are to enforce a permanent ban. “[Politicians] cannot use our bodies as a battleground for votes,” says Rugiatu. “They have a responsibility towards us and they should not misuse that power.”  

You can donate to help the Amazonian Initiative Movement here  

Olivia Acland is a freelance writer and photographer, formerly based in the DRC for The Economist. She now covers stories across the Middle East and Africa for publications including Al Jazeera, The Telegraph, Reuters, The Guardian and BBC