A Heroine in Niger: Anafghat Ayouba

My heart broke a little the other day when I read of the death of Anafghat. She was a teen-aged girl from Niger who I never met-- except in the context of a remarkable article by Roger Thurow in the Wall Street Journal, published two years ago, that told her story. I tore out the article and saved it, as one should save important things. Anafghat was important; she was living proof that momentous things may be accomplished by any of us, even in the least hospitable circumstances.

The recent item that noted her unexplained death was not nearly as enlightening as the account of her short life, and its expectation of hope.

Anafghat was married at age 11 to a man twice her age, in a country where poverty and the tradition make this unremarkable. Her dowry was a camel, useful for milk and transport. A bright and promising student, tradition dictated that once Anafghat was married she was not allowed to return to school. She lived at home with her father and sisters until puberty, but became pregnant quickly once she began living with her husband. Her underdeveloped (and likely undernourished) body was unable to handle the punishing demands of four days of at-home labor.

By the time her father was able to get her medical help at a hospital-- over 150 miles away--her infant son was stillborn. Anafghat was left with a fistula, or hole in her bladder, the size of a baseball. She joined the ranks of the estimated one million girls and young women in the region suffering the pain, infection, ostracism that attends this condition. (For more information, please go to the website www.nigerfistula.org.)

But Anafghat had a light in her, an intelligence and a desire to live that persisted beyond reason in such circumstances. She was aided by a team of American doctors (themselves aided by the charitable entreaties of an American couple, the Margolies) and her surgery was successful. Her father was moved by her persistent pleas to return to school; she returned home to do just that. She desperately wanted to follow the example of a Nigerian woman she met while in the hospital, a medical student who impressed Anafghat with fluency in multiple languages, and-- revealing an endearing universality among little girls-- her pretty clothes. Anafghat wanted to be, in her words, "a doctor...an important woman".

Inspired herself, in turn she inspired others, spreading the idea among her family and fellow townsmen that girls would do better to postpone marriage and childbirth, and focus on becoming literate and educated. In a country where less than 15% of women can read and write, this set her squarely against the conventional wisdom. But as the director of the National Hospital, who favors this opportunity for young girls, says: "The impact of an individual can be great".

In a hostile culture, in a harsh land, this may seem like tilting at windmills. And so it is. But she did it, and touched many in her short life. She left a legacy we should note, and honor. R.I.P.

Comments

[mary o'hayes]

Thanks very much for letting us know about Anafghat, that's an amazing story. May that organization continue its important work, and may Anafghat rest in peace.

[Sandy Brown]

That was a very inspirational story. There are some horrific things going on with girls and women and to see the great stories of people making a difference is so encouraging. I just read an eye-opening book, just published called Not For Sale, which details what is going on in our world with many women and children. But is also is interspersed with stories of groups and people making a change and ideas to help. I highly recommend it.

[Jeannine]

Liz, Thank you for writing about this. You hit the very foundation of what the modesty movement is reaching for -- the fulfillment of a girl's deepest destiny by creating an environment where her heart can guide both her dreams and her choices in life, but especially her passions and love. Instead of what Anafghat had and what our culture has in a very different form -- a culture that sexualizes a girl's youth, denounces her hope for dignity in love and thus takes away a girl's future and her choices and crushes her goals. I think some arms of the modesty movement can sometimes become focused on rules and rigidity and risk becoming a caricature of the original intent -- in the end, it is about dignity and the freedom to choose a future in both life and love. Your writing, as always, nails it right on the very deepest needs of love. Thank you.

[Erin P]

Wow Liz - thank you for sharing and for Anafghat's beautiful example.

Human trafficking and sexual coercion are topics I feel both modesty-niks and more sexually progressive liberals could agree on and work toward alleviating. Do you agree?

Do you know of any good organizations that support these causes?

One of the challenging things comes with cultural expectations though when it comes to marrying young girls in some countries. How do we challenge or educate on that when there are cultural or religious traditions (e.g. arranged marriages) in place?

[Christian]

Wow, and to think we complain about our parents and boyfriends. None of us have been forced into a marrige...especially not at 11 years old. This is a really good opportunity to be thankful for
a)our parents

b)our God

c) the country we live in

[African]

She wasn't forced into the marriage. She was poor she married a man that gave her a camel as a wedding gift.

How is that a forced marriage?