That’s 3’aib (a’ib) they say
What will people think?
What will they say?
That’s 3’aib they say
Sit up straight
Don’t come home too late
That’s 3aib they say
A single word that defines our world
Elusive boundaries of what’s wrong and right
You must exude a certain image
No room for individual thought
Just follow what has been taught
This 3’aib they speak of
These ‘disgraceful’ acts
Arbitrarily defined and full of illogical cracks
Your life is diligently archived in a series of disgraceful moments
Aunties and uncles never forgetting any details
So quick to judge and put you on the spot without fail
Slowly but surely this pile becomes an overwhelming mountain
Causing you to question your world and your actions
Is my logic absurd? Or am I missing a critical social transaction
When you finally cry out and question why
You are blatantly shot down
Told to obey and stop acting like a clown
This 3’aib they speak of
I want some justifications
Who makes the rules? Who changes the equation?
I love my culture
My deep roots that keep me grounded
But these double standards always leave me stranded
That’s 3’aib they’ll say
To these word of mine
How could you get out of line?
To this 3’aib they speak of
I’m tired of carrying this unnecessary burden
I need to let go
To realize….
there is always a compromise
A sight that is as ubiquitous as Addis Ababa’s distinctive blue taxis are none other than the thousands of listros or “shoe-shine boys” who roam the streets of Addis Ababa. They tend to weary shoes of the city’s pedestrians, giving them a new ‘face-lift’ and much-needed relief from the city’s abuara ‘dust’ or in kermt ‘rainy season’, chiqa ‘mud’. When I first arrived in Addis Ababa, I noticed the sight of these young boys who line the streets and offer shoe polishing for a mere 2 birr. They diligently smear away the layers of dust and mud and apply a generous portion of shoe shine, that leaves most shoe-soles gleaming. They walk around with distinctive wooden boxes that house their gear and double as a stand for clients to rest their feet as they are being polished. In some areas, some listros have gone as far as setting up strings of stools and using plastic sheets to create umbrellas to guard against the rain and sun. These little listro stalls become chill out spots where you see people sitting in small stools getting their shoes shined, getting their fill of local news or discussing recent events.
Initially I found this practice fairly amusing, never have I been to a country where there was such a deep ingrained culture to have freshly polished shoes. Where it was taboo to walk around with slightly dusty shoes. I found this practice particularly amusing during kermt, where it rains without fail on a daily basis and the streets become a canvas of mud and rocks. It didn’t make sense to me that one would get their shoes polished, walk several steps and have to repeat the process. Soon after I realized the utility of the service these listros provide. Having to walk from my house to the office, it became part of my routine to stop by one listro boy’s particular spot in the mornings, exchange greetings and have my shoes polished.
I then began to ask about the nature of this profession and how it came to be such an integral part of urban culture in Ethiopia. For many of these listros, the meager earnings from shoe shining provide a vital life line to life in the city and possibly at times to supporting family members. I discovered that most of these young boys are migrants from outside Addis. Initially listros were known to be from a particular tribe, Guragai, who are renowned for their business and entrepreneurship skills. A job as a listro for them is the first step in the ladder to becoming a self-made business man. Many of these listros worked to save up funds and pool it together to jump to the next rung in the ladder or renting a small mobile stall in Merkato (Africa’s largest open air market….a city of its own). From there as their liquidity increases, they move up to renting bigger venues and becoming more established business men. I admired this sense of resourcefulness that instilled the dogma of “hard work, can pay off.”
These days, the listro market although still majority Guragai, is now infiltrated by many young boys form other tribal groups (most notably the Wellita) trying to emulate the success of those who have gone to become well established business men or have found means to gain access to higher education. In trying to do a bit of ad-hoc research about the origins of the name ‘listro’, I came across some noteworthy organizations and others who are trying to portray a dire situation where these young boys are systematically victimized. The latter fail to understand the intricate business ethic that is instilled within this community of young boys and do little understand their mentality. Rather they are seen as drifters who have been neglected by society. They fail to understand that the services they provide are highly appreciated by the general public. More importantly is that these young boys do not see a lifetime of shoe-shining in their horizon, but instead see it as a step in becoming self-sufficient and capable of earning an income. Their intentions are to earn and save sufficient amount of money to move up to the next venture; making way for the next wave of young listos to occupy their ranks. Further in reading some of these accounts, it makes it seem these young boys are aimless and have no prospects. But in reality many are trying to go to school and take up this profession on the side.
The Sudanese national dress for women, referred to as a toub/thoub is a long piece of cloth (usually4.5 meters) that is wrapped around the body and looped over the head and tossed over the right shoulder. It is probably the single most defining symbol of Sudanese women in the past and today. Despite the country’s variety in cultural diversity the toub is adorned by women all across Sudan ( with slightly varying styles). Women in chad, Niger parts of Mali and Mauritania also wear similar garments. I always found it uncanny how although Sudan and Mauritania are on opposite sides of the continent they wear the toub in a very similar manner. A lot of the times you cannot distinguish a Sudanese woman from a Mauritanian one. It also bears some similarity to the Indian sari, as in some styles the toub is tied around the waist and looped around like some Indian styles.
It is a dress that many Sudanese poets, singers and artists spent quiet a bit of time describing. The title of my blog post are lines from Mohamed Wardi’s (famous Sudanese singer) lyrics. It roughly translates to “My country the beloved…Jalabia (white long tunics worn by men) and Toub ( garments worn by women). Many songs, poems and visual art pieces describe or convey the way it is modest yet allows for women to retain some elements of femininity. Like Mauritanians, Sudanese women are preferred to be “round” so that their curves are accentuated when wearing the toub. Skinner women are often encouraged to put on a bit more weight so the toub “sits well on them.”
I came across this Aljazeera English piece(2:49) on this unique dress, how it has changed through time, and what it means to Sudanese women of all generations. Watch below:
Although it was adorned by all women several decades back, it is now mainly worn by married women. Toubs make up an essential part of the Shailya (dowry) or gifts from the groom to his bride. Now a days toubs are what women are using to make statements. Growing up outside of Sudan, I only saw these toubs in special Sudanese events (weddings, Eid, etc) and women scrutinized the details and styles of each toub. Every so often new styles come out with very interesting names. It is essential that women precisely match the color of the skirt,shirt and accessories otherwise it is seen as somewhat taboo to wear mismatching colors. For those who run in elite circles it is taboo to be seen with the same toub twice.
During the 1950s the toub became a symbol of female empowerment. At a time where very few women were allowed to work outside the home, as the clip alludes, women marched in the streets with their toubs to demand they get equal working opportunities. Today the national work dress code for women in all public institutions is a white toub. Today women make up a significant portion of the work force and have risen to positions of prominence; a key indication is the number of women represented in the National Council of Ministers.
Many young women today opt not to wear the toub, particularly in universities, but it still remains very much part of the culture and many look forward to owning their own set of toubs. While many see their national dresses as somewhat restrictive and sadly backwards because they do not fit the Western ideal, I am happy to see that Sudanese women embrace their toubs and take pride in wearing them. Seeing a women in a foreign country walking down the street, or at an airport, etc wearing a toub puts a smile on my face and instantly elicits a feeling of comfort.
In the very limited literature and references that are found on this Sudanese garment, it is always stated that it migrated from India or influenced by the Roman toga. In all instances this literature assumes that this dress was borrowed from elsewhere. As I was digging in and trying to better understand my history, and life of the Nubians, I came across a surprising discovery. Nubian civilization is characterized by 3 stages; where each marked a transition in the civilization and relocation of the capital. This rich history is often forgotten/overlooked and many always assume that the Nubian civilization was a transition from pharaonic traditions, when in reality the first phases of this civilization predated the pharaohs by several centuries. During the second major phase of Nubian civilization (Meroitic Period), jewelery, frescos and paintings etched on pottery that were discovered depicting women of the Royal Court wearing transparent loose robes of linen that reached down to their ankles. These clothes had folds that were draped over the right shoulder and folded down the back. This description is very similar to modern-day Sudanese toubs. Also during this period, women were depicted as obese, as a sign of beauty (R. S. Bianchi, Daily Life of the Nubians (Greenwood Publishing Group, 2004). For more info on Nubian civilization customs and dress. There is no doubt that designs and styles of the modern-day toub were influenced by the Indians and Romans as many sources suggest, but I am pleased to find this is garment was conceived by the Nubians and carried forward today by modern-day Sudanese and women across the Sahara to Chad, Niger, Mali and Mauritania. It is refreshing to see that as opposed to the common notion that it was brought to Africa, this is something that was 100% home-grown. Has anyone considered if the Nubian garments influenced the Romans and various Indian civilizations?
I’m sure if I mentioned the word bureaucracy, everyone no matter of geographic location will have something to say. The Sudanese people are a gregarious bunch, well for the most part. I grew up often hearing the phrase “al Sudan beh nasah” (sudan is its people). Super friendly and to some extent somewhat nosy. Favorite pastime, includes drinking chai and lots of chatting…they love exchanging “shamarat” or gossip.
No conversation can ever start with the intended thought in mind. One must go through the lengthy salamat process, where one must inquire about all family members’ health, the weather, news and any sort of random banter one can think of. Hospitality is engrained in their blood, you can never pass by a group of people gathered to share a meal without being invited to join; even if you are a stranger.
So keeping this in mind, one can begin to get the sense of how government institutions function. Many idle bodies, reading newspapers, drinking chai and exchanging shamarat. There are people working, but like many office settings few carry the workload for many.
The Sudanese have perfected the I.B.M. philosophy. I’m sure that when anyone reads IBM, the image of the highly successful and efficient tech company that is famous for manufacturing some of the most reliable computers on the market. Sadly the Sudanese I.B.M. does not reflect any of the traits associated with this company.
A very simple example, you go to office X, to get some paperwork completed. You ask are assured that INSHALLAH you can come and pick up your completed paper the following day. So you come the next day, you sit down or wait by a window, go have some chai; if it is someone you know you must go through the lengthy salamat process and then….you come to inquire about your paperwork and you are told with a very sympathetic tone….they are not ready today, come BUKRA (tomorrow). So you leave disappointed, knowing that you have lost yet another day having to wait for paperwork. Having resigned yourself to loosing yet another day to getting this paperwork done, you set off to the same office on the third day. You wait, you drink some chai, you chat and then you finally get to ask about your documents….and you are met with yet another response in a sympathetic tone…. MA’ALESH (sorry).
So the Sudanese I.B.M. is a way of life. As much as I would like to knock my head against the wall sometimes, it’s the way things work. They move at glacial speeds but in a uniquely Sudanese way. So if you have any sort of paper work that needs some attention in a government office, then brace yourself, and expect to loose a minimum of three days.
I have decided to try to get back to compiling Sudanese proverbs that I’ve come across. I find these sayings (that exist in every culture) fascinating and provide a small window into the society and how it thinks. They are products of experience and necessity. Elaborate metaphors that draw upon daily life in Sudan, to cleverly convey a message without being too overt.
كرعيه في البحر و فاتح خشمه للمطر
Kira’eaho fi al-bah’ar wa fatih’ khashmoo ll-matar
His feet are in the sea and he opens his mouth for the raindrops
This proverb seeks to convey someone’s greed. Although someone is by the water he still tries to capture every little raindrop. Sudanese often use the word sea to refer to the Nile River.
Some years back prior to moving to Ethiopia a family friend gave me a beautiful painting from Ethiopia with 3 chocolate coloured, almond-eyed women sitting around and making coffee. Their distinctive faces are typical of drawings and paintings that date back centuries in the Ethiopian Orthodox church. Although I do not frequent many churches, I did notice something rather odd, outside all major churches in Addis there are men or women selling large posters of a blue-eyed, blond-haired Mary holding a milk-coloured baby Jesus. I was caught a bit off-guard.
I then took a trip to Lalibella, which I blogged about last year. There among the 11 rock-hewn churches that we traversed, I saw only 2 main pictures depicting biblical figures as seen in the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Instead around each and every altar there was this new image, a foreign image. I couldn’t really understand the significance or implications on the religion.
Last week I attended a lecture where this very same issue was brought up. From a religious point of view, I can’t even begin to delve into the matter because I know far too little. As an art from it is sad that such iconic images are disappearing from the view. I get the sense that some view this style of art as archaic vestiges of the Orthodox Church. Although the church popularized this artistic style, it is not only limited to the church but represents a style that has been crafted, and refined in Ethiopia.
Again with so many matters that compel me to write a blog post, I have more questions than answers. It is understandable in this increasingly interconnected world that with many things including art, food, music there is a global sampling process taking place, but how is this process taking shape? why are some things so easily adopted and why are we so quick to let go of what we have? Observing this shift in Ethiopian art, made me reflect on the fact that in Sudan we widely celebrate international artists, and at regional scale many Middle Eastern artists but are not so generous to our own home-grown talent. In terms of music there is wide appreciation but when it comes to visual arts, there is relatively little support or praise.
I ask my Ethiopian friends to shed some light on this issue with respect to the disappearance of black Jesus from church mantles across the country. As for fam and friends out there, we need to do a better job of promoting and supporting our local artists, because it is a shame that their unique and inspiring work is going about unnoticed and being overwhelmed by works in the international sphere.
A few days ago I watched a preview of a documentary titled ” Dark Girls”, which follows the stories of numerous African-American women and their struggle with dark skin. As I watched this short clip, their stories were all too familiar. These same stigmas dominate our culture in Sudan and I would venture to say even the horn of Africa. Speaking from experiences in Sudan and what I have come to find out in Ethiopia, the issue of skin colour has been indoctrinated into every little girl in both countries.
During my time in the US, I came to find that some African-American women looked at North/East African women with disdain. I took me a while to understand that looks had to do a lot with it. Skin complexion, long hair, high cheekbones. Little did they know that these very same way they viewed East African women, women from the horn applied the same stringent principles on themselves.
In Sudan, and I guess now I have to differentiate (Northern Sudan), a common catch phrase for a mother, auntie or female relative to blurt out is “why have you been spending so much time in the sun, you are dark like charcoal.” Growing up in a fairly open-minded family, despite their consciousness on many other serious issues, they were blind to the backward ways in which they view skin colour. I grew up very conscious of the fact that I am on the darker end of the spectrum when it comes to members of my family. My mother, also having darker skin tone than her siblings was endearingly referred to with pet names that if someone outside our family heard, would be taken a back. When in a gathering of women who are discussing any young girl, skin colour almost always trumps all other features that we define as beautiful. So it doesn’t really matter so long as you are light-skinned you are considered beautiful.
Beauty regiments that Sudanese girls follow are ludicrous. Skin bleaching creams are the norm, which an unfortunate thing to say. The prevalence of kidney disease among Sudanese women is astonishingly high…yet no one wants to correlate the excessive use of skin bleaching cream with this disease. The local industry is booming with “home-made” concoctions that god only knows what’s inside. In an effort to get that “perfect complexion” the length some go to is very worrying. Even those who cannot afford these expensive creams or mixtures frequent small shops all around the country called ” قدر ظروفك” which roughly translates to “weigh your circumstances”. These shops sell such goods in varying quantities depending on the money you have available, they will put a dollop of cream in foil or if you can afford it you can walk out with the entire tube or jar.
What’s sad is the implications of skin colour on the society, dark, blotchy skin is equated with diminished marriage prospects. So in the process, young women, plagued by this social stigma are willing to try any product in the quest to find that lighter, even skin tone. When their skin is damaged, which in most instances is the case after usage of these products, you often see ghost-like young girls parading around town with a layer of thick concealer or powder on their faces; often several shades lighter than their true tone. What’s slightly more amusing is that many of these girls walk around donning black gloves, in a country where 50 degrees celsius around some months is the norm. All in an effort to hide the fact that they have used these lightening creams only on their faces and the disparity between their hands and faces is shockingly visible.
So in watching the preview of this documentary and reflecting on the issue back home, why are many women in our community and across the globe applying such harsh standards on themselves? what is causing our society to think in this manner? I would definitely like to see the full documentary and see what conclusions it draws based on its numerous interviews. I do fear that they may still reflect upon many black women as self-hating individuals without actually looking at the root causes of why this stigma is so widespread. I do believe media has a very powerful role in this case. When one is bombarded with thousands of adverts, commercials and billboards with “beautiful” young light-skinned women, the average young lady starts to equate skin tone with success. Why is that she is seeing a light-skinned girl and not someone who looks like her? The multi-billion dollar beauty industry does an impeccable job of peddling products and keeps generating media to support the cause for women everywhere under-appreciating their beauty.
All in all, I really do believe that we need to start a serious dialogue about this issue. For all my Sudanese sisters who are so close to my heart and all the other women out there who are perpetuating this stigma. As a community, we need to start looking within as well and figuring out what we need to do to help dispel these notions.
rough translation: the safe path is closer to the new year
meaning/usage:take the known (safe path) which will ensure you make it to the new year (live longer), rather than taking a short cut (dangerous/unknown path) and putting yourself in danger.
nubiaNomad 