Djaili Amadou Amal Puts Women First

Djaili Amadou Amal meets me at Théâtre Pitoëff in a gorgeous long black, grey, and pink floral-patterned dress and a matching headwrap. Golden jewelry shines from her ears and neck, and she lifts an arm adorned with henna flowers to her mouth and yawns. "I'm very tired," she says in French. Amal just arrived from Cameroon to discuss her latest book, The King's Harem, at the 23rd edition of theInternational Film Festival and Forum of Human Rights in Geneva (FIFDH).

I'm nervous about meeting this accomplished author and activist, especially as she's exhausted and hungry. We sit in the theatre's cafe, and our translator brings her a plate of food. "Very kind of you," Amal says with gratitude before settling into her chair and taking a bite. Trying to break the ice, I share that my great-grandfather was Cameroonian, and I live in Egypt — a Cameroonian father and an Egyptian mother raised Amal. But there is no ice to break. She enquires about my writing endeavors, and before I get a chance to record or ask any of the questions I prepared, we dive into a discussion of the Islamic slave trade, sharing family anecdotes as she offers wisdom on the importance of telling stories others prefer to silence, generously guiding how to approach such delicate narratives.

"Writing starts with conviction," Amal tells OkayAfrica. "There is so much injustice, and I ask myself: who is the best person to talk about it if not a woman? When I first started to write, it was to save girls from forced marriage. Then I continued because it was important to have a woman talk about issues on behalf of those who are not heard."

Born in Maroua, in Northern Cameroon, Amal was forced to marry a 55-year-old politician at 17. Books became her solace; writing served as both refuge and the reason she managed to leave him. Her second husband became abusive, and she managed to divorce him, too. He retaliated by kidnapping their two daughters. These experiences made her a staunch feminist, committed to shining a light on the plight of women in the Sahel region as an activist and a writer addressing issues of polygamy, forced marriage and sexual slavery. With her third book, The Impatient, she became the first African woman shortlisted for the Prix Goncourt.

"Patience is a fundamental value in our culture and religion. My book shows how it can be oppressive against women," says Amal. "There is polygamy, forced marriage and domestic violence, and society only has one tip: be patient. It is blasphemy for women in our society to say that they don't want to be patient anymore."

"When we tell women in Africa to be patient, it means that she has to accept everything," she continues. "Only then can she be a real woman." When she says this, the young Congolese translator stops and exclaims, "Exactly!"

In Amal's writing practice, the theme and years of literary, academic, and field research come before the story. "It's important to have strong female figures," she says. "I write my stories around the female muses I encounter in my research." In the end, she becomes obsessed with the story. Nestled between many cushions, with some tea and coffee, she writes all night, needing to conclude the journey.

Amal is a proud child of two cultures. To her, the most important similarity between Egypt and Cameroon is Islamic culture. "We eat the same things and pray the same way," she says. When asked about the biggest difference, she laughs and says, "We don't walk the same way." Her Egyptian mother marches like a Westerner, teaching Amal to walk straight and be quick. Her paternal aunts tell her to stop walking like her mother because "a woman doesn't march; she strolls delicately."