Sylvia's Journal

International Women’s Day came and went. A front page article in the Afghanistan Times reminded its readers that for some women this day was rather meaningless with the headline ‘8th of March doesn’t make any difference to me.’

It tells the story of a woman whose husband lost both of his legs in Northern Afghanistan while fighting the Russians and so the wife goes out begging as she sees no other way. “The government only celebrates women international day for rich women with an income.” I kind of agree with her. What if she, with some educational support, would have turned out to be the next Albert Einstein?

Our carefully prepared celebration took off slowly. At the start of the event only the women who had organized it sat, in their best dresses, in the empty room. It took an effort to fill the room up. Marzila and I swept through the compound dragging men away from their computer screens and offices (not really dragging but it did take some coaxing).

And then some had the gumption to say at the end that the men should have organized the day for the women. We were all convinced that if we’d left it to the men nothing would have happened. And we have proof for that assertion: since Miho our gender specialist left in 2004 there have been no celebrations of this day.

We also did invite men to be on the organizing committee, several weeks ago, but none joined us. The road ahead is still long and bumpy I am afraid. To get the easy words changed into actions.

But I was proud of my female colleagues who put up a seamless program that lasted a little over one hour. We listened to prayers, poetry, we watched a slide show with dismal statistics, an encouraging film, and after that there was a quiz and gifts.

When everything was done and said sweet milk tea, cookies and cake were served in the adjoining room. Like a bride, I was asked to cut a beautiful cake with a rusty (but clean) Exacto knife that came from someone’s toolbox.

While we stood around the table eating and drinking, we asked people to speak about the extraordinary women in their lives. Of the few who talked most celebrated their mothers, one celebrated his wife and another said he didn’t want to celebrate his wife because things weren’t so good at home.

Some of us tried to give the day some content and meaning beyond the Valentinesque nature of the event. The statistics Marzila presented were dismal but I am not sure that showing them shocked anyone into action. Still, we got women on the screen.