“In a Class of Feminists” by Ama Boakyewaa Adjei

Do you know the Genesis 11 story? Well, a bunch of people say they’ll build a tower into God’s house. Perhaps they don’t want Him to be their God any longer. They draw up the architecture – fancy! God watches. They mold bricks, get tar and exchange their gold bars for iron rods. God still watches, amused. They dig foundations – long trenches in God’s earth – and He still watches. They start to build; one brick after another; consistently. Up until now they speak the same language, same set of words, same speech, same temperament. Nearby towns join their cause. God shifts in his seat. They put their differences aside and focus on the common goal. The sick quickly get the right herbs to heal lest their physical, emotional, psychological and economic mishaps abort the mission. God’s eyes are narrowed now. They shouldn’t have come this far! He watches. It’s their speech! They have managed to consistently communicate by the same language. The looming tower speaks for itself!  Intrigued, God thinks, what if I change their speech, make them say different things, hmmm? So he raises his sceptre and an invisible force erupts over the surface of the earth. So the sick start to whine; the healers succumb to frustration; the diggers want to saw and…anarchy at campsite! Mayday! Mayday…and then the static of a radio. The building never collapses but it never gets to heaven.

Fancy word labels, otiose pageantry and it would seem that we have only succeeded in farther alienating the sexes and creating more ‘damaged’ women. Why is our message so ‘confused’?