Joyce (Not her real name) rests outside the women and girls friendly space in Mankien, South Sudan.
Joyce* is a shy woman in her late thirties. Late last year, her husband died suddenly, signaling a new and difficult chapter in Joyce’s life. “My husband paid dowry and this means that I still belonged to his family despite his death,” says Joyce. “I had to remain in the village as a widow to look after my family.”
In keeping with local custom, soon after her husband’s burial, his older brother was chosen to ‘look’ after Joyce and her three children. It came as a relief to Joyce as her brother-in-law was a well to do man in their small community in Mayom County.
“I thought all will be well. But the first night after the ceremony, my brother-in-law came to my room in the middle of the night, drunk, threatening to kill me if I didn’t leave the compound,” she says. The threats continued for months and, every day, Joyce feared for her life. Her brother-in-law refused to pay any money for the care of her children, forcing them to drop out of school. Without an income of her own, Joyce could no longer afford the fees.
The abuse escalated from emotional to physical, and Joyce knew that if she didn’t leave, her life would be in danger. “He would come home and hit me for no apparent reason. He went into his room and pulled his gun and that’s when I knew I had to leave,” says Joyce
One day when there was no-one around, Joyce gathered together her meagre belongings and walked the twenty kilometers back to her parents’ home in Mankien. When she arrived, she was so exhausted, she went straight to bed. The next morning, she told her widowed mother and her uncles why she had left her family home and would never go back.
“I expected support from them, but since a dowry was paid for me, they thought I should go back and resolve the issue amicably. I understood them because we had no cows to give back, she said. In South Sudan, dowry is often paid with cattle. “All our cattle were used to pay for my brothers’ dowry and some were sold to take care of my father health bills when he was alive,” she continued.
It was around this time that Joyce heard from her mother’s neighbour about a new place in Mankien where women who have experienced abuse meet to share their experiences and receive psychosocial help. A few days later Joyce dropped by the center and discovered that she was not alone.
“I was amazed to see how other women from my community were sharing their experiences and getting support from colleagues,” said Joyce. “I was equally amazed by how the centre was training women in different skills to help them become self-sufficient. I never knew that women can actually have a voice to challenge the everyday abuses we go through.”
The centre was established by CARE with the aim of enabling women and girls to learn skills to generate income and, more importantly, to share their thoughts, feelings and experiences without judgement or criticism.
“I have learnt to make beads and hope to sell them and use the money to support myself,” says Joyce. “My friends have also been supportive. They listen to my story and always offer me support when I am down.” “So far, I am doing well. My only wish is to make more beads and get enough money. I want to go back to my husband’s village and collect my children so they can come back with me to my parent’s place.”
“We have seen a great change in how women and girls view sexual and physical violence in Mayom,” says Patrick Vuonze, Gender Based Violence project manager for CARE South Sudan. “Violence and abuse used to be something that was culturally acceptable, but now, as attitudes and behaviors are changing, many women are questioning why they should suffer.”
CARE is currently establishing three more women and girl friendly spaces in Mankien.
* Joyce’s name has been changed to protect her privacy
To learn more about our work in South Sudan, click here.