Because of the sensitivity of the subject matter, the names are fictitious but the places are not.
These anecdotes happened between February and May of 2012 in our country, Nigeria.
February 2012. I was spending weekend at my cousin’s house in Mowei, Ogun State.
“What time are we leaving for Mass tomorrow,” I asked. The answer given to me indicated that he had not been to Mass in his neighborhood for some time, “I’m not sure of the time for Mass in this area-o. But I’ll make phone calls and let you know.”
We were at mass by five minutes to six and the mass started promptly at six. The reverend father delivered a very interesting sermon based on prejudging people – some men wanted to stone a sinful woman and Jesus said that only someone without sin should cast the first stone. They all went away because they were sinful like the woman they judged. The sermon was very interesting as the priest spiced it with proverbs and slogans in two major Nigerian languages to the delight of the congregation that laughed and clapped especially when the priest made fun of those who prejudged others. During the offertory, I danced with everybody to make my offering. It was a long time since I participated in that kind of joyful procession with music and dancing to give thanks at the altar. So far, all was well. But the joy soon changed to distress.
During the communion, two men stopped me from proceeding to the altar to receiving Holy Communion. Why? I did not cover my hair. Probably because of the shock on my face, one of them dug into his pockets in search of something.
“You can place this on your head,” he offered me a rumpled dirty-brown handkerchief. Thanks; but I could not accept it.
After mass, I went to the priest, complemented him on the sermon and told him how two people prejudged me as unclean to receive communion.
“Are you a feminist?” he said. This question was unexpected and I gave him an unexpected reply.
“Yes, I am a feminist, if you know the real meaning of the word as someone who pursues the progress of women and other less-privileged in society,” I looked straight at his face. He was young and confident.
“Don’t get me wrong. I know what it means and we have Reverend Sisters who are feminists,” he said.
April 2012. This one happened in Emene, Enugu State. It was twenty minutes before eight as the car stopped us at the gate of the church. I was happy because I would have time to meditate before the beginning of Mass. My happiness was, however, cut short as I was barred from entering the church premises.
“Why?” was my immediate reaction.
“You are not properly dressed as a woman!” This shock was delivered by a teenage boy. At first, I said nothing; stunned by his words, their harsh delivery, and the audacity of a boy inspecting me. Who gave this youngster the power to do this? Overcoming my shock, I tried to evaluate my dress. I wore a gown that covered my breasts and knees properly. The scarf covered my hair and a good part of my forehead. The latter was deliberate because I did not want a repeat of the incident that occurred at Mowei two months earlier.
“What’s wrong with my dress?” I said.
“Your hands are showing. That is the rule in this church. I’m only doing my job-o. Madam you cannot pass through this gate,” he said. He was acting on orders. Whose orders?
“Allright. Why not let me and my children pass. We will not go into the church. We’ll stay outside and follow the service through the window.”
“Madam, let me say it again. I’m doing my job. You see those girls walking down, I turned them down. I cannot let you in.”
The same day, I told two women of the church, Janet and Eliza, who lived in our neighborhood about it. They expressed concern in different ways.
“I no know why THEM bring out all these nkanka rules,” Janet said angrily. I smiled at the way she sneered at the rules with the use of an Igbo word that evoked “useless” but I was puzzled by the way she twisted her face that could be described as pretty if not for three creases that suddenly appeared on her forehead as she twisted her mouth in anger. I wondered whether it was my case that provoked such a reaction.
She continued, “I came to Katolik in April of last ya-ar for sake of my husband who said we go wed in his church, but since dat time I never sit together with am in church. Di ting wey dey vex me be say, my husbad dey use am to prove that we must not do things together as Christians. I don tell am say if he no change, I go go back to Apostle church. He say im no fit happen, but me, I no care again!”
“Why don’t you sit with him in church?”
“They don’t allow it. Men sit on the right and women sit on the left,” her friend, Eliza cut in.
“What God has joined together-.”
Janet did not allow Eliza to finish the sentence before she completed it in her own way by saying, “Man is putting asunder in Katolik.”
Eliza rubbed Janet on the shoulder while she diverted the conversation to my case.
“The boys from the Youths club are the ones doing these things. When I saw them sending away many girls this morning, I told them that the girls will go to other churches that accept them, but they didn’t care.”
“It’s not the fault of the boys, because they were acting on orders,” I said.
I got the telephone number of one of the Knights of Saint Lumumba and phoned him. Nwatolie expressed disappointment at the way “things have degenerated” and like Janet, he began to express anger at the way he was treated the previous week when he was not allowed to sit with his young children. He liked to sit with them in order to monitor and guide their progress on the liturgy.
“They don’t allow it?” He shouted on the phone.
“Children have their own Mass and when you bring them, you are supposed to leave them in the front section and go to the back pew,” he shouted.
“At this time of suicide bombing of churches, they still enforce such a rule?” I said.
“I will bring up the matter at our next council meeting,” he said.
I pondered on these incidents wondering whether the rules targeting women aimed at preventing them from attracting church men and the priests. Should this be the case, then I expect that women would soon be told to cover their faces if the hair and hands were guilty of being sexy; after all the face is central in portraying a woman’s personality. When I narrated the indecent to one of our students, she began to praise her church.
“Such things cannot happen here in Lagos-o.” She was soon proved wrong on the sixth of May 2012 at Akoka, Lagos State. The mass was led by a visiting priest who had a way of capturing the interest of the congregation of university people with his references to experiences of students and lecturers, but when he called attention to women students who didn’t cover their hair in church, a girl sighed beside me. I looked at her, but her hair was covered. After mass, I asked her why she sighed. She said she was tired of “THEIR harassing us in churches, when THEY should be focusing on Boko Haram that said in yesterday’s paper that they will attack Lagos and we all know that Catholic churches are their number one target. “ She sighed.
I went to the priest. After complementing him on his ability to mix elements that appeal to students who are predominantly young and lecturers who are on the older side of life, I asked him to clarify what was immoral about a woman not covering her hair.
“It is against tradition.”
”What tradition?” I asked, expecting him to talk about Jewish tradition, but he did not.
“African tradition. A properly dressed woman has to wear a scarf in African tradition. To go and see the king of the community, she has to tie her hair with scarf.” He said. I smiled.
“This is an area that I know very well, not just as a woman but also because I have done a lot of research in African particularly Igbo traditions and culture. Tying scarf is relatively new in terms of old Igbo tradition where women plait or pull up their hair and decorate them. It is now the culture to wear or not to wear scarf depending on the attire,” I said. He then diverted to the bible.
“It is written in the Bible.”
“Show me, so that I can read it and be enlightened about the immorality of not covering my hair,” I said.
He gave me the biblical reference.
In order to have a more objective view on the matter of tradition. I approached a lecturer who is a doctor of Philosophy in Igbo language and culture. I asked him whether it was cultural for every woman and girl to tie scarf. He spoke authoritatively.
“Wearing of scarves was not common in pre-colonial times. During ceremonial occasions, ndi-nne (mothers) tied wrapper on their waist and another across their shoulders. Their hair was usually done up in plaits. Later, they began to do it with threads.”
“Did they cover them with scarves?" I asked.
“No-o.”
“What about younger women? How did they dress?”
“They tied wrapper in form of short skirts. They covered their breast with another wrapper. Their tummies and legs were basically bare unless they decorated them with uli designs. Prior to that, they wore mgbaji (waist beads) and ornaments.”
The expert had just confirmed that hair covering was not THE Igbo tradition.
But the expert on the bible had mentioned Chapter 11 of 1st Corinthians, so I had to read it. I used The Good News Bible produced in Lagos by The Bible society of Nigeria (Imprimatur 1979). I did not glean any immorality on the part of women who did not cover their long hair but on the part of persons who could not prevent their eyes from looking at long hair inside the church. The chapter shows that the brethren had taken the debate on women covering or not covering of their hair to St. Paul. He deliberated on the matter and said that Corinthian women should cover their hair in public worship: “On account of the angels, a woman should have a covering over her head to show that she is under her husband’s authority” (10). He asserted that “long hair has been given to her to serve as a covering.” That “covering” by God was not acceptable in church because of its beauty and this was why it should be extra-covered. Paul rightly felt that this line of thinking might be unacceptable to some people, so he emphasized that a woman’s long hair “is a thing of beauty,” indicating the necessity to cover it from roving eyes inside the church; but he still left it to debate - “to anyone who wants to argue about it,” and many still do to this day.
I was quite prepared to discuss the chapter with the priest and ask his opinion on why Jesus Christ allowed Mary Magdalene who obviously had very long hair, to perform public worship without cover, but his explanation took a better turn. He said that the issue of hair-cover is “inconclusive” and that his emphasis was on teaching young people to dress modestly inside and outside the church. A little more reading on the matter showed me that Fathers of the church did not prescribe wearing of hair covering by women when they wrote the Catholic Cannon, which is among other things, a good moral reference book of Catholicism. They just said that people should dress modestly and this includes men and women. I agree that women’s hair can attract some people who cannot control their eyes or themselves, but I think that the church should focus on teaching those people self-control that will be of use to them within and outside the church. The problem is not with women or their hair but in the hearts of people who do not need to look at hair, scarf or gele for their minds to wander.
This piece is aimed at those who are responsible for the situation described (targeting of women inside the church) as well as those who are sensitive to it. It is not enough to sigh in the church and grumble outside. If you don’t say that something oppresses you, THEY won’t know. We have to go beyond grumbling and try to communicate our views to people especially those who can initiate changes. I’ll begin with myself.
“I feel very hot and tying up my hair in a crowded church increases the heat. The situation tends to disturb my concentration as I keep scratching my hair and cleaning sweat. My hair does not detract from my relationship with God.”
Now, here are the opinions of two women whose name I will not mention.
“I am tired of people telling me what to do, when to marry, who to marry, what sex of child to have, what should be important in my life, what to wear and where to wear it to. For God’s sake, I am forty two and God is in control of my life decently. I don’t need church wardens to look through me and appraise my body parts; whether my leg is showing or my hair is showing.”
“It is one of those messages that they put out to keep women in their place; where they want them.”
I am still not convinced that not tying scarf is immoral and would like to be “taught.”
Source: Punch
These anecdotes happened between February and May of 2012 in our country, Nigeria.
February 2012. I was spending weekend at my cousin’s house in Mowei, Ogun State.
“What time are we leaving for Mass tomorrow,” I asked. The answer given to me indicated that he had not been to Mass in his neighborhood for some time, “I’m not sure of the time for Mass in this area-o. But I’ll make phone calls and let you know.”
We were at mass by five minutes to six and the mass started promptly at six. The reverend father delivered a very interesting sermon based on prejudging people – some men wanted to stone a sinful woman and Jesus said that only someone without sin should cast the first stone. They all went away because they were sinful like the woman they judged. The sermon was very interesting as the priest spiced it with proverbs and slogans in two major Nigerian languages to the delight of the congregation that laughed and clapped especially when the priest made fun of those who prejudged others. During the offertory, I danced with everybody to make my offering. It was a long time since I participated in that kind of joyful procession with music and dancing to give thanks at the altar. So far, all was well. But the joy soon changed to distress.
During the communion, two men stopped me from proceeding to the altar to receiving Holy Communion. Why? I did not cover my hair. Probably because of the shock on my face, one of them dug into his pockets in search of something.
“You can place this on your head,” he offered me a rumpled dirty-brown handkerchief. Thanks; but I could not accept it.
After mass, I went to the priest, complemented him on the sermon and told him how two people prejudged me as unclean to receive communion.
“Are you a feminist?” he said. This question was unexpected and I gave him an unexpected reply.
“Yes, I am a feminist, if you know the real meaning of the word as someone who pursues the progress of women and other less-privileged in society,” I looked straight at his face. He was young and confident.
“Don’t get me wrong. I know what it means and we have Reverend Sisters who are feminists,” he said.
April 2012. This one happened in Emene, Enugu State. It was twenty minutes before eight as the car stopped us at the gate of the church. I was happy because I would have time to meditate before the beginning of Mass. My happiness was, however, cut short as I was barred from entering the church premises.
“Why?” was my immediate reaction.
“You are not properly dressed as a woman!” This shock was delivered by a teenage boy. At first, I said nothing; stunned by his words, their harsh delivery, and the audacity of a boy inspecting me. Who gave this youngster the power to do this? Overcoming my shock, I tried to evaluate my dress. I wore a gown that covered my breasts and knees properly. The scarf covered my hair and a good part of my forehead. The latter was deliberate because I did not want a repeat of the incident that occurred at Mowei two months earlier.
“What’s wrong with my dress?” I said.
“Your hands are showing. That is the rule in this church. I’m only doing my job-o. Madam you cannot pass through this gate,” he said. He was acting on orders. Whose orders?
“Allright. Why not let me and my children pass. We will not go into the church. We’ll stay outside and follow the service through the window.”
“Madam, let me say it again. I’m doing my job. You see those girls walking down, I turned them down. I cannot let you in.”
The same day, I told two women of the church, Janet and Eliza, who lived in our neighborhood about it. They expressed concern in different ways.
“I no know why THEM bring out all these nkanka rules,” Janet said angrily. I smiled at the way she sneered at the rules with the use of an Igbo word that evoked “useless” but I was puzzled by the way she twisted her face that could be described as pretty if not for three creases that suddenly appeared on her forehead as she twisted her mouth in anger. I wondered whether it was my case that provoked such a reaction.
She continued, “I came to Katolik in April of last ya-ar for sake of my husband who said we go wed in his church, but since dat time I never sit together with am in church. Di ting wey dey vex me be say, my husbad dey use am to prove that we must not do things together as Christians. I don tell am say if he no change, I go go back to Apostle church. He say im no fit happen, but me, I no care again!”
“Why don’t you sit with him in church?”
“They don’t allow it. Men sit on the right and women sit on the left,” her friend, Eliza cut in.
“What God has joined together-.”
Janet did not allow Eliza to finish the sentence before she completed it in her own way by saying, “Man is putting asunder in Katolik.”
Eliza rubbed Janet on the shoulder while she diverted the conversation to my case.
“The boys from the Youths club are the ones doing these things. When I saw them sending away many girls this morning, I told them that the girls will go to other churches that accept them, but they didn’t care.”
“It’s not the fault of the boys, because they were acting on orders,” I said.
I got the telephone number of one of the Knights of Saint Lumumba and phoned him. Nwatolie expressed disappointment at the way “things have degenerated” and like Janet, he began to express anger at the way he was treated the previous week when he was not allowed to sit with his young children. He liked to sit with them in order to monitor and guide their progress on the liturgy.
“They don’t allow it?” He shouted on the phone.
“Children have their own Mass and when you bring them, you are supposed to leave them in the front section and go to the back pew,” he shouted.
“At this time of suicide bombing of churches, they still enforce such a rule?” I said.
“I will bring up the matter at our next council meeting,” he said.
I pondered on these incidents wondering whether the rules targeting women aimed at preventing them from attracting church men and the priests. Should this be the case, then I expect that women would soon be told to cover their faces if the hair and hands were guilty of being sexy; after all the face is central in portraying a woman’s personality. When I narrated the indecent to one of our students, she began to praise her church.
“Such things cannot happen here in Lagos-o.” She was soon proved wrong on the sixth of May 2012 at Akoka, Lagos State. The mass was led by a visiting priest who had a way of capturing the interest of the congregation of university people with his references to experiences of students and lecturers, but when he called attention to women students who didn’t cover their hair in church, a girl sighed beside me. I looked at her, but her hair was covered. After mass, I asked her why she sighed. She said she was tired of “THEIR harassing us in churches, when THEY should be focusing on Boko Haram that said in yesterday’s paper that they will attack Lagos and we all know that Catholic churches are their number one target. “ She sighed.
I went to the priest. After complementing him on his ability to mix elements that appeal to students who are predominantly young and lecturers who are on the older side of life, I asked him to clarify what was immoral about a woman not covering her hair.
“It is against tradition.”
”What tradition?” I asked, expecting him to talk about Jewish tradition, but he did not.
“African tradition. A properly dressed woman has to wear a scarf in African tradition. To go and see the king of the community, she has to tie her hair with scarf.” He said. I smiled.
“This is an area that I know very well, not just as a woman but also because I have done a lot of research in African particularly Igbo traditions and culture. Tying scarf is relatively new in terms of old Igbo tradition where women plait or pull up their hair and decorate them. It is now the culture to wear or not to wear scarf depending on the attire,” I said. He then diverted to the bible.
“It is written in the Bible.”
“Show me, so that I can read it and be enlightened about the immorality of not covering my hair,” I said.
He gave me the biblical reference.
In order to have a more objective view on the matter of tradition. I approached a lecturer who is a doctor of Philosophy in Igbo language and culture. I asked him whether it was cultural for every woman and girl to tie scarf. He spoke authoritatively.
“Wearing of scarves was not common in pre-colonial times. During ceremonial occasions, ndi-nne (mothers) tied wrapper on their waist and another across their shoulders. Their hair was usually done up in plaits. Later, they began to do it with threads.”
“Did they cover them with scarves?" I asked.
“No-o.”
“What about younger women? How did they dress?”
“They tied wrapper in form of short skirts. They covered their breast with another wrapper. Their tummies and legs were basically bare unless they decorated them with uli designs. Prior to that, they wore mgbaji (waist beads) and ornaments.”
The expert had just confirmed that hair covering was not THE Igbo tradition.
But the expert on the bible had mentioned Chapter 11 of 1st Corinthians, so I had to read it. I used The Good News Bible produced in Lagos by The Bible society of Nigeria (Imprimatur 1979). I did not glean any immorality on the part of women who did not cover their long hair but on the part of persons who could not prevent their eyes from looking at long hair inside the church. The chapter shows that the brethren had taken the debate on women covering or not covering of their hair to St. Paul. He deliberated on the matter and said that Corinthian women should cover their hair in public worship: “On account of the angels, a woman should have a covering over her head to show that she is under her husband’s authority” (10). He asserted that “long hair has been given to her to serve as a covering.” That “covering” by God was not acceptable in church because of its beauty and this was why it should be extra-covered. Paul rightly felt that this line of thinking might be unacceptable to some people, so he emphasized that a woman’s long hair “is a thing of beauty,” indicating the necessity to cover it from roving eyes inside the church; but he still left it to debate - “to anyone who wants to argue about it,” and many still do to this day.
I was quite prepared to discuss the chapter with the priest and ask his opinion on why Jesus Christ allowed Mary Magdalene who obviously had very long hair, to perform public worship without cover, but his explanation took a better turn. He said that the issue of hair-cover is “inconclusive” and that his emphasis was on teaching young people to dress modestly inside and outside the church. A little more reading on the matter showed me that Fathers of the church did not prescribe wearing of hair covering by women when they wrote the Catholic Cannon, which is among other things, a good moral reference book of Catholicism. They just said that people should dress modestly and this includes men and women. I agree that women’s hair can attract some people who cannot control their eyes or themselves, but I think that the church should focus on teaching those people self-control that will be of use to them within and outside the church. The problem is not with women or their hair but in the hearts of people who do not need to look at hair, scarf or gele for their minds to wander.
This piece is aimed at those who are responsible for the situation described (targeting of women inside the church) as well as those who are sensitive to it. It is not enough to sigh in the church and grumble outside. If you don’t say that something oppresses you, THEY won’t know. We have to go beyond grumbling and try to communicate our views to people especially those who can initiate changes. I’ll begin with myself.
“I feel very hot and tying up my hair in a crowded church increases the heat. The situation tends to disturb my concentration as I keep scratching my hair and cleaning sweat. My hair does not detract from my relationship with God.”
Now, here are the opinions of two women whose name I will not mention.
“I am tired of people telling me what to do, when to marry, who to marry, what sex of child to have, what should be important in my life, what to wear and where to wear it to. For God’s sake, I am forty two and God is in control of my life decently. I don’t need church wardens to look through me and appraise my body parts; whether my leg is showing or my hair is showing.”
“It is one of those messages that they put out to keep women in their place; where they want them.”
I am still not convinced that not tying scarf is immoral and would like to be “taught.”
Source: Punch
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