Black Women and Sex, Film
Venue: Olive Schreiner
Next performance: Tuesday 01 July 19:00
Review
By Ntombekhaya Busuku
As a black African woman raised in a home and society where discourse about sex is viewed as taboo, watching Godisamang Khunou’s documentary Black women and sex – and even compiling the review – felt discomforting to this reviewer. But my uneasiness only accentuates the importance of the conversations explored in the film.
Khunou’s lens transmits firsthand realities for three distinctive individuals: Glow Makatsi, a South African Trans woman; Iris Kaingu, a woman jailed over a sex tape in Zambia; and Olawumi Oloye, a woman raised in a polygamous home in Nigeria.
Unique women and at the same time much of what is documented in their feelings and experiences expressed, is shared by millions of women the world over.
For the longest time in African society, women have been made to feel ashamed for openly talking about sex. We’ve been fed lines like: “Oh, you’re encouraging young people to engage in sexual activities.”
Another source of my discomfort at the screening was that most audience members were older people. The awkwardness in the venue prompted me to relive the day my parents were weirdly trying to have a sex talk with me. They abandoned their efforts – they were just too embarrassed.
The stories
Iris Kaingu was constantly criticised for being “the girl in the sex tape” and was actually jailed. But the man she was with in the recording was never sex shamed. When will we stop labelling and punishing women and hold the other gender accountable?
Iris was also told that as a woman, she was not allowed to say no when her husband wanted sex because he bought her, “considering lobola as payment”. This is a form of GBV.
Glow Makatsi’s story was really touching. And shocking. Society is so violent towards members of the LGBTQIA+ community. There was a scene where Makatsi was assaulted by a heterosexual woman for being a trans woman in the bathrooms. Makatsi was later arrested and jailed for seven days. She went through emotional abuse by being transferred to a male prison once they realised she was not a woman by birth.
I identified strongly with Olawumi Olaye’s story. It made me think of the many children in black families who hide from their parents that they are being sexually abused. Children are damaged in the name of “Don’t tell people what they will say about our family.”
Olaye was sexually violated by someone she trusted, an uncle, and she didn’t feel safe enough to speak with her mother about it until she was 21. If our mothers talked with us about sex-related stuff, we wouldn’t go through so much abuse as women.
I loved how the documentary gave her the power to take back the stolen voice of her childhood. Olaye also endured pressure when she got married as someone who was born and raised in a polygamous home. Society was already judging her for coming from a broken family. People said her marriage wouldn’t last, which put undue pressure on her to make it work. If she were to divorce, she would be the one to blame, not the husband. These expectations are too much for a woman.
