I was bred in an environment that, beyond the biological functions, did not distinguish between male and female roles and responsibilities. I am the first child, and significantly more tom boyish than Tutu. Until Ivan came along, I was the one who did boyish things with Daddy. I picked up interest in sports earlier than Tutu, went car shopping a couple of times. I even remember discussing savings and investments at the tender age of 6. Daddy used to give me about UGX 200 per day for break tea. Then, suddenly, one day, he asked me how much of my allowance I had been saving. I was ashamed to declare that the thought had never crossed my mind. Now I am a penny pinching hoarder who always sees a second life for any item. I tag along with Daddy on his trips to explore land in Arua. I spent a few nights at Yakobo's pork joint in Ntinda and learnt early enough that being knowledgeable about politics was a good thing in his books. By 8, I had also picked on my father's interest in maths. I remember once when we had a conversation about recurring decimals. I was so excited by what I had learnt that I had to share it with my class and teachers. I can still see the teacher's blank face, wondering what this 8 year old was going on about.
Then there were the things that mummy insisted I know, that even Ivan had to know. We had to cook and wash up at every meal. We even had a schedule of duties. We had to design a weekly menu for the home - all of us. We went shopping together and knew the value of each item. She taught us to bake [Ivan was more interested in eating the batter]. I remember that for every cup of flour we used half a cup of margarine [read blue band], half a cup of sugar and one egg. We did not have essence those days [or maybe it was too expensive], so we used lemon zest and mixed spice to flavour the cakes. I think we baked every one's birthday cake at home till I turned 10.
Now, I find myself in a system that insists on the difference in roles. By the time I opted to study sciences at A level, I knew I was stepping into what is typically a boy's world. I was actually convinced that the only way I could excel was by studying at a boys' school [by then I was sure that Buddo was my future]. Daddy didn't see the point. He's reasoning is that as long as you apply yourself, any school will do. Mummy is a Gayaza die hard, so that was an easy choice for her. But I think that was when I became aware that there was a fight and that I would have to start defending my choices as a female. I was at Makerere and noticed we were about 10 girls in a class of more than 50. The longer you stayed in the system, the smaller the numbers got. By the time I got to the end of university, people were visibly and audibly surprised that girls were topping the class and completing in record time. One of the pastor's wives at church, on realising that I was studying engineering, warned that I had to be more serious. You see her husband trained as an engineer and she knew first hand that it was not for jokers. I wondered if she would have given the same warning to a boy.
Anyway, I'm on my way to work and questioning whether I want to be in that club any more. I am off to a new assignment and not looking forward to the awkward conversations about why a married woman is going off for several weeks at a time. Married men ask me these questions and I fear for their wives. Why is it permissible for men to run off without having to explain themselves but women must account for every second they are away? There was a guy who was worried about my hands becoming too rough for me to caress my husband [do men have these conversations?]. Then, there are those who worry about when I will have children. I have to explain how I got where I am and they don't believe me when I say it had nothing to do with my relatives [actually had to prove that my father was not a tycoon to earn street cred in one of my locations]. Some of them are shocked I can survive the conditions and others are amazed that I can follow the simple logic of physics and maths.
I hope this new assignment is not as riddled with strange conversations.
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