The Vagina Monologues continues to cause a stir each time the controversial play goes on stage, and the Zambian performances are no different.
The very mention of the word vagina still shocks, and even some media are reluctant to publish this word, a biological term found in the dictionary. What is it about the word vagina that makes people so uneasy?
The play is hilarious, but it also breaks taboos around what we talk about, and makes people think about women’s sexual rights. In Southern Africa we are working towards gender equity, and trying to cope with such issues as HIV/Aids. So is it not high time to break some of our cultural taboos and get on with open dialogue?
The uneasiness with the word vagina made it almost impossible to forge partnerships with local organisations to stage the internationally acclaimed play. Communication went dead at the mention of the word vagina, even with women’s organisations fighting for gender equality and human rights.
A prominent advocacy organisation proposed a title change, stating that the church would probably block the production. “We won’t lie to you; Zambians are not ready for such a production.”
Media response leading up to the first performance was more heartening. The Post, Zambia’s leading newspaper, published a quarter-page colour poster with the word vagina sticking out large and clear and a write-up about the play.
A week before the show the word vagina was everywhere — on radio, flyers, posters, newspapers, e-mails, and TV. The vagina was a centre of discussion around town. It turned out that the word vagina was very easy to market, though it required time to explain and defend, a process that was crucial in winning public support and preventing backlash.
On opening night a mixed audience of young, old, male, female, single, married, politicians, personalities, students, ordinary people and the media sat unusually quietly, not knowing what to expect.
“I bet you are worried; well, you should be worried; you should be worried about vaginas, what we think of them, and even more worried that we don’t think about them …” was the first line of the play.
By the time the show was over the audience didn’t know what had hit them. Some, too shocked for words, just shook their heads; others couldn’t stop laughing; still others opened their mouths in disbelief.
The floor was opened for questions and comments about issues raised in the play. The moments that followed were powerful and groundbreaking, men and women openly questioning and confronting issues that have gone unchallenged for generations — from genital mutilation to the lack and faking of orgasms.
The media reviews that followed were generally positive and gave a contextual analysis of the issues and how they affect women in Zambia. The reviews not only discussed the play but also placed the issues of female sexual rights on the public agenda.
However, some reviews reinforced, rather than challenged, the stereotype associated with women and their sexuality, by refusing to use the word vagina when they wrote about the play.
Both The Post andThe Times omitted the word from their headlines — “V Monologues amuse Lusaka”, and “No controversy about monologues after all …”
These headlines managed to undo what the play was trying to do — to redeem the negative connotation of the word and to free people from the cultural and social constraints associated with the vagina. The undertone was that the word vagina is not appropriate language — it was basically grouped with derogative unprintable words. These headings defeated the very purpose of the play — normalising and reclaiming not just the word vagina, but also the vagina itself.
That was a blow, because The Post is not just a newspaper in Zambia, it is a highly influential institution with the power to change perceptions and mindsets. If The Post called the vagina a vagina, the rest of Zambia will likely call the vagina a vagina.
Sampa Kangwa-Wilkie is one of the two actresses in the play. She is also a filmmaker and freedom of expression programme officer at the Media Institute of Southern Africa Secretariat. This article is part of the Gender Links Opinion and Commentary Service that provides fresh views on everyday news