(Professor Bene Madunagu, March 21 1947-November 26 2024)
Dear Auntie Bene,
By the time you settle down to read this, you will be safely ensconced in a lovely place of rest, with your feet up, a cup of hot tea at your side and a nice pillow to rest your back on. I know you must be tired, especially after listening to all the praises and accolades from those who have known you, worked with you, and walked with you on the many miles of your long journey. I consider myself extremely lucky, to be one of the many people who met you on your impactful journey.
We met in the early 1990s when I was still with Akina Mama wa Afrika in London, at the annual Commission on the Status of Women in New York, and we also used to link up at AWID Forums in different parts of the world. I recall clearly that the first time I had the privilege of sitting with you for more than a brief encounter, was when you accepted our invitation to be a Resource Person at the African Women’s Leadership Institute (AWLI) Nigeria national workshop in March 2000 at the Ogere conference center, Ogun State. The AWLI had been organising leadership programs for young women on the African continent since 1997. We would have the annual regional institute in Uganda and sub-regional or national workshops in other African countries. Your presentations at the Nigeria AWLI were unforgettable. Some of us stalked you and I am not sure you were able to have any meal in peace without one of us bombarding you with questions. Many of us will never forget the ‘bomb’ you dropped on us that day as you did your talk on Gender and Feminism. You said something along the lines of, ‘We learn gender roles, we are not born with them. Women do not cook with their vaginas and do not bring spoons with them when they are born. Men do not write laws with their penises’. I have cited variations of this priceless lesson over the years, and so have your other mentees and peers. Since that encounter at the AWLI in Ogere, I made a point of staying close to you, so that I could learn and grow on my feminist journey.
We were together in Zanzibar in 2003, when some of us met to start the African Feminist Congress (which later became the African Feminist Forum). It was a difficult gathering, and by the third day, it became clear that there were some issues that needed to be resolved amongst some participants. Some of us asked you, as one of the elders at the meeting, to approach the other senior women to find a solution to the growing dispute. You acted like a true elder. You listened, you passed no judgement, and you accepted the assignment to talk to the other elders. Even though we did not succeed in resolving the crises and preventing the inevitable implosion, you demonstrated integrity and taught a lesson in what it means to provide leadership at critical moments. On our way home, we were in transit in Nairobi. I was waiting for my flight to Accra and you were on the flight to Lagos. I was feeling miserable and disappointed in how the meeting had gone, and vowed never to have anything to do with some of the participants again. You smiled, pulled me into a hug and said to me, ‘Please don’t worry about it, it is all politics, don’t you know?’. Your empathy, wisdom and compassion lifted my spirits, and I reminded myself that I was in the presence of a survivor of many battles, and what I was experiencing must be minor compared to yours. Years later, the project that almost failed became the celebrated African Feminist Forum in 2006, and you were key to the success of that too.
One of the many debates we had in the early days of the African Feminist Forum, was ‘Who is an African Feminist’? We agreed in principle, that it was any person who was prepared to question patriarchy and patriarchal oppression. At the first AFF in Accra 2006, someone brought T. shirts to sell, ‘This is what a Feminist looks like’. Not only did all the T. shirts sell out, we had the shirts reprinted and sold at all our subsequent feminist meetings. There is this lovely photograph of you wearing your ‘This is what a feminist looks like’ T. shirt, standing next to Dr Ayesha Imam at the Nigeria National Feminist Forum in January 2008.
Mumsy Bee, you were different things to a lot of people. Professor of Botany at the University of Calabar. Teacher of Teachers. Feminist Thinker. Humanist. Marxist/Socialist. Sexual and Reproductive Rights Expert. Co-Founder of Girls’ Power Initiative (GPI) with Grace Osakue. International Gender and Development Specialist. First female Chairperson of Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU), University of Calabar branch. Member, National Executive of ASUU. One of the founders of Women in Nigeria (WIN). Wife to Professor Edwin Madunagu, our revered Comrade leader. Mother to three wonderful children. I called you Mumsy Bee too, but I mostly called you Auntie Bene. To me, you were my big Auntie, friend, leader, teacher, mentor.
You invited me to attend the 10th anniversary of Girls’ Power Initiative in Calabar in August 2004. I was meant to give a five-minute goodwill message on behalf of the African Women’s Development Fund. A week before the event, you called me and said, ‘Bisi, you have been promoted. You are now giving the Keynote address for the conference’. I was mortified! The distinguished African feminist scholar and activist you had invited to give the Keynote address had to pull out due to a family emergency. I told you that her shoes were too big for me to fill and you said, ‘You are the right person for the task. You will be great’. I got off the phone trembling a bit, but humbled and grateful to you for the trust you had in me. I prepared meticulously for the event, I did not want to let you down. After my speech, you gave me a tight hug and whispered, ‘See, I knew you would do a great job. I am so proud of you’. I have never forgotten the way you generously guided others and provided them with platforms and the confidence they needed. Whenever I talk to younger people about mentoring, I say to them that the best mentor you can have, is someone who treats you like the most special person in the room, not someone who makes you feel like they are doing you a favour. You always made everyone around you feel special.
Auntie Bene, you will be sorely missed. Kayode was also devastated at news of your passing, he adored you too. There are so many conversations going on at the moment about what feminism means and who feminists are. Some of the debates will make you laugh and there are conversations that will drive you to drink something stronger than the cup of tea you are sipping now. Can you imagine, Auntie Bene? For so long we have said – any race or ethnicity, age, class, married, single, widowed, divorced, sexual orientation, urban, rural, educated, non-literate, differently abled, all faiths (or none) – ‘This is what a Feminist looks like’. As long as you have a problem with women’s oppression, marginalisation, exclusion and silencing, you can sign up. These days, I find myself saying, ‘The Feminist movement did not start on social media and it is not going to die on social media’. The African Feminist Charter of 2006, which you were part of creating when we resumed the African Feminist Forum project, is clear about the conceptual, individual and institutional understanding of feminism as framed by African feminists. Young women, and the men who trigger them, who tend to conflate feminism with misandry (mostly online) would do well to read more and learn about the life and contributions of women such as yourself.
When women like you (and a few men) started Women in Nigeria in the 1980s, there was no social media then. There was no culture of jostling for attention and ‘clout’ and running commentaries on things we knew next to nothing about. That was a time for serious conversations about the mental, political, economic and social liberation of women, using all the tools that could be made available. Now, with elders and leaders like you leaving us, we have so many challenges to address. We have made significant gains over the years, thanks to the hard work of women such as you. Your wonderful legacy through organisations such as Girls’ Power Initiative has raised generations of self-reliant, confident girls who have gone on to become formidable women. It is up to all of us to double down and make sure that whatever has been gained is not lost.
As I was putting my thoughts together to write this message to you, I came across reports about a young woman who is embroiled in a public battle with her ex/current partner (the status of the relationship is not clear), a clear case of systemic failure. This young woman was failed by the circumstances of her birth and upbringing. At the point in her life when what she needed was an opportunity to go to school or learn a sustainable skill, she ended up in the bedroom of an ancestor. Now, the ancestor has joined his ancestors and the young woman is adrift with no education, no viable livelihood, no skills, and a child to care for. It is no surprise that she is now at the mercy of whoever comes her way, promising her safety and security, only to leave her worse off in the end. These are issues you worked on all your life, making the case for communities to take ownership and ensure that girls have equal opportunities and access so they do not end up destitute and dependent, perpetuating a cycle of poverty and ignorance.
I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this Mumsy Bee, you have done your bit, and have run your race to a graceful end. This is just me telling you how much I will miss you. I am also saying Thank You. For all the work you did. For all the lessons you taught. For how you loved everyone around you unconditionally. For all the times you lifted me up. For all the love and hugs. For your immense wisdom. For your generosity of spirit. For your laughter and sense of humour – some of us never forgot what you taught us about what happens to our toes when we……… but there might be children reading this! For how you made being a ‘citizen of the world’ look so easy. For being a worthy role model. For making it possible for us to point to you and say, ‘This is what a Feminist looks like’. Rest in Power Auntie Bene. Keep sipping that tea, you have earned the right.
Bisi Adeleye-Fayemi is a Feminist Activist, Gender Specialist, Leadership Coach, Policy Advocate and Writer. She is the Founder of Abovewhispers.com, an online community for women. She can be reached at BAF@abovewhispers.com