FGM/C Sexual Education & Prevention: An Interview with Dr. Reham Awwad

By Kiah Leone In celebration of World Sexual Health Day, I sat down with Dr. Awwad, the co-founder of Egypt’s first-ever multidisciplinary female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) clinic, Restore, to learn about the care and support offered to FGM/C survivors as they navigate relationships with their bodies, their partners, and themselves. The discussion is shared in two parts: in the first part, I explored how FGM/C impacts survivors’ sexual health and the types of surgical and non-surgical therapies Restore offers their patients. In this second part, I discuss tailoring sexual education for survivors and Restore’s role in FGM/C prevention.   Starting conversations around sex and sexual health within the context of FGM/C can be difficult, particularly in countries like Egypt where these topics are considered taboo: “Kids here [in Egypt] don’t grow up in schools with sex education classes or health education classes, so [FGM/C survivors] really don’t have any familiarity with that part of their body… They [survivors] don’t speak to their families [about sex], they can’t speak to their friends…you’ll find that no one spoke to their moms either and they kind of just figured it out on their own.” To help ease survivors into conversations surrounding sex and sexual health within a clinic setting, Dr. Awwad begins by getting a sense of the type of sexual education her patients have already had, if any. Depending on the patient, Dr. Awwad might provide them with a mirror and ask if they would like to see their genitalia. If the patient agrees, Dr. Awwad explains each of the genitalia’s parts.  “I usually like to explain specifically about the clitoris – the anatomy of it, how it works. We talk about reaching orgasms, how a woman reaches them, and the misconceptions that are around vaginal orgasms versus clitoral. I try to give [survivors] as much information as possible.” To further assist survivors, Restore’s psychologist and sexual therapist run a program to help survivors re-identify with their bodies.  “It’s all about their body…normal sensations, pleasurable sensations, all of these things…the results [from the program] have been really good so far, because the women learn how to reconnect with their bodies and feel comfortable.” Dr. Awaad emphasizes that education not only improves survivors’ understanding of sex and sexual health, but also acts as a prevention tool. “The thing that we can do to reduce FGM/C in Egypt and actually start seeing numbers going down is education. We have to educate our kids – we have to put it in the school system – they have to know.” Dr. Awwad believes that education will give young people the courage to speak against the practice. “Even in coming to report FGM/C cases, with a little girl [if you teach her] she’s going to say no, no, no, no, you can’t do that to me, you know, and she might call and report her parents or tell somebody that would help her.” This is why Dr. Awwad has connected with, Tadwein Center for Gender Studies, a research-based NGO that focuses on prevention and is producing some of the best research in Egypt around gender-based violence interventions.  “The prevention aspect has to change. It’s not working…we are going to start a campaign with new messaging and test it in an area to see how people respond to it.  It is [made] for the men and it will be based around sexual health, because that’s what men will actually care about…I hope it works and we get some good results. But I think that this is why we have to start approaching it from a different aspect”.  By teaching men, Dr. Awwad believes it will help men to better understand the impacts of FGM/C on the lives of the women they’re closest to and hopefully encourage them to say, “I don’t want them to live like that”.  “That’s why awareness is so important, letting people know the impact that it [has] on these women’s lives” For Restore it is important that they continue doing whatever they can to support survivors and raise awareness. Whether that is developing new prevention campaigns, holding events to provide free medical checkups for survivors, also to educate them about FGM/C, or participating in research that improves the care for survivors.  To find out more about Restore please visit Restore’s website or follow them on Instagram.

Psychosexual Care for FGM/C Survivors: An Interview with Dr. Reham Awwad

By Kiah Leone In celebration of World Sexual Health Day on September 4th, I had the opportunity to sit down with Dr. Awwad to learn about the types of care and support Restore offers survivors as they navigate their relationships with their bodies, their partners, and themselves. The results of this discussion will be shared in two parts: I first explore how FGM/C impacts survivors’ sexual health and the types of surgical and non-surgical therapies Restore offers their patients. The second part of this series will discuss tailoring sexual education for survivors and Restore’s role in FGM/C prevention. When Restore opened in June 2020, it became Egypt’s first-ever multidisciplinary female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) clinic. Co-founded by aesthetic and reconstructive surgeon Dr. Reham Awwad and urogynecologist and aesthetic gynecologist Dr. Amr Seifeldin, Restore offers a patient-centered approach to health care, where every FGM/C survivor’s treatment plan is tailored to meet their individual needs. Clinicians provide a number of different treatment options, but what makes Restore multifaceted is their emphasis on non-surgical interventions and helping survivors by practicing psychosexual care and sexual education.  “FGM/C impacts a woman’s sexual health on a massive level. First of all, the way I see it is that it starts from the day it happens”. In Egypt, FGM/C is most commonly performed between the ages of 7 and 15 years-old, and the pratice will often cause survivors to experience some type of disconnect with that part of their body.  “There’s a word in Arabic [Kamla], which means complete. So, you always hear women saying ‘I don’t feel complete’, ‘I don’t feel confident’, ‘I don’t want my husband to look at me.’”  One of the well-known impacts of FGM/C on sexual health is related to physical sensation. Sensations can range from decreased, to painful, to completely non-existent in cases where survivors may have experienced nerve damage.  “It’s an uncomfortable part of their body that they don’t feel the same about as they do with the rest of their body. At least that’s the impression that I’ve gotten from the women I’ve spoken to.”  This lack of sensation can negatively impact survivors’ experiences with self-exploration, intimacy, or sexual intercourse with their partners. To address these cases of limited to no physical sensation, Restore offers survivors a number of different surgical and non-surgical treatment options, ranging from clitoral reconstructive surgery, to regenerative and functional gynecology to platelet rich plasma (PRP) injections into specific sites of the genitalia.   However, before beginning any of these surgical or non-surgical treatment options, Dr. Awwad will ask patients with decreased sensitivity whether or not they feel pleasure if they are touched anywhere else on their body. “If [the patient] answers ‘no’ then I know there is definitely a psychological aspect involved.” This psychological component to physical pleasure is why psychosexual care is crucial for survivors of FGM/C, and why clinicians at Restore employ a multi-disciplinary approach when it comes to tailoring the treatment plans to their patients’ needs.  “We keep our treatments side by side. For example, if we have a medical intervention that we’re going to do [and] we believe that it will be more successful after psychological counseling, we will wait… you will get a much, much, much better result than if you just do a medical intervention. [With just a medical intervention] you might not get the result that you want. So, we try to push for this when it comes to issues of sexual health”. This is especially true when it comes to some surgical treatments, such as clitoral reconstructive surgery, where there may be a risk that the patient might relive their experience of being cut.  “You have to understand that there is a psychological aspect that ties into your sensation. That is why we always, always recommend for every single one of our patients to have at least one free assessment with our counselor or psychosexual therapist.”  Offering patients at least one free psychological care session is one of the many ways that  Restore is working to eliminate the barriers to care services that survivors of FGM/C face. “Psychological care costs money. That’s why we are trying to do a program to get funding just for psychosexual counseling, so we can make it easier for [survivors] to continue [care] because we know they will need months of therapy and they can’t afford it.”  This type of funding would be invaluable to survivors who have had to discontinue their therapy sessions due to financial constraints. When looking toward the future of Restore, Dr. Awwad sees herself and her colleagues not only providing medical treatments and psychosexual therapy, but also conducting research on how to really impact the future of treating FGM/C.  “It’s important we have more options. Clitoral reconstructive surgery and psychological counselling is not enough – it is not even anywhere close to enough.”  To find out more about Restore, or to learn how you can support the funding of their curated care-programs for survivors, please visit Restore’s website or follow them on Instagram. Learn more about psychosexual care for FGM/C survivors from Sahiyo’s trauma series here. You can also learn more about the former webinars hosted by Sahiyo on sexual health and wellbeing here and here.

Voices reflection: Speaking freely about my experience

By Somaya Abdelrahman It is safe to say that the day I underwent female genital mutilation (FGM) was by far the worst day of my life. I grew up in a country that is infamous for the high rate of FGM in the region in Egypt. I was cut at the age of 10. I have always been very concerned about women’s rights and gender equality. This passion and concern were what inspired me to produce documentary work that brings this crime to light. For me, projecting a story visually through photography offers a medium to expose the ugly truth, to tell a story, or to spotlight underrepresented groups of people. I want to protect every girl who could be cut from this painful experience, which is an outright violation of women’s rights.  Permanent Wound by Somaya Abdelrahman  Through the Voices to End FGM/C workshop, I was able to express my feelings and speak freely about my experience. I really would like to thank Mariya from Sahiyo and Amy from StoryCenter for supporting me throughout the virtual digital storytelling workshop.    

Remembering Egyptian feminist’s heroic fight against female genital cutting

By Madrisha Debnath Despite the fact that the mother of Egyptian Feminist Movement Nawal El Saadawi died at age 89 earlier this year, her fight against patriarchy lives on. Born in 1931, she was an Egyptian writer, psychiatrist, physician, and a powerful feminist activist who fought against female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) for many years. In her autobiography, she wrote as a survivor of FGM/C, “Since I was a child that deep wound left in my body has never healed.”  She began her activism in her college days against the cultural institution of the state that promoted FGM/C. In her opinion, when religious institutions gain power, oppression against women of the region increases, and she believed that women are oppressed under all religious institutions. She wrote 47 books on issues that women face in Egypt. Even as she spent three months in prison, she wrote Memoirs from the Women’s Prison with an eyebrow pencil on toilet paper. She is popularly known as the Simone de Beauvoir of the Arab World. El Saadawi was the founder and president of the Arab Women’s Solidarity Association and co-founder of the Arab Association for Human Rights. She has been awarded an honorary doctorate from Vrije Universiteit Brussel, Belgium; Université Libre de Bruxelles, Belgium; and the National Autonomous University of Mexico. She won the North-South Prize from the Council of Europe in 2004, Stig Dagerman Prize in 2011, and has been featured in BBC’s 100 women of 2015 to name a few.   In 1972 she wrote the book Women and Sex in which she criticized FGM/C. Her book became a foundational text of second-wave feminism. The book was banned in Egypt and consequently, she lost her job as the director general of public health for the Egyptian Ministry of Health. In 1980 she yet again wrote about her experience of undergoing a cliterodectomy in her book The Hidden Face of Eve: Women in the Arab World. She was the founder of the Health Education Association and the Egyptian Women Writers’ Association and was the Chief Editor of Health Magazine in Cairo, and Editor of Medical Association Magazine.  As she graduated as a medical doctor from Cairo University in 1955 she observed that women’s physical and psychological problems are actually deeply rooted in the religious and cultural institutions they belong to. She connected oppressive cultural practices and norms of the society to the systemic oppression under the structures of class, patriarchy, and imperialism. While working as a doctor in Egypt she became aware of the issue of domestic violence and inequalities that women face in their day to day life. After trying to protect one of her patients from domestic violence, she went back to Cairo and eventually became the director of the Ministry of Public Health. As a feminist and a doctor, she was against male circumcision. In her view, she did not separate cutting children from a physical or social point of view. In an interview with The Independent she said, “I am going to carry on this forever.” Her legacy will live on for future generations to consider.

On the path to healing: My journey after experiencing female genital cutting

By Anonymous Country of Residence: United States Every woman that has been cut has a story to tell. I tell my story not to offer a universal account of female genital cutting (FGC), but one that is specific to me. At a young age, I underwent Type II female genital cutting, known specifically as “taharah” (purification) within the Egyptian community, in which only part of the clitoral hood was removed and partial removal of the labia minora/majora. The taharah took place in Cairo, Egypt, while visiting relatives. This was the second time I visited my parent’s homeland. My parents were unaware, or at least this is what I’d like to believe, of what had occurred, as my sister was in a coma at the time and her prognosis was poor. They agreed that I travel to their homeland with my auntie to avoid the negative effects of witnessing what my sister was going through. My aunties had convinced me that this was a rite of passage, and what I was about to embark on would make me a “woman.”  One week after arriving in Cairo, my auntie took me to a medical office where a doctor performed the surgery. She remained in the room while I underwent FGC, while my other auntie waited by the phone to hear the “good news.” I have no recollection of the surgery, as I was under anesthesia. However, I awoke to excruciating pain that would last for weeks. I remember my family members visiting to celebrate—bearing money and gifts. Upon returning home my parents realized that something was different about me. Already small-framed, I had lost ten pounds. I notified them of what occurred, and I remember them speaking with my aunties. However, the details of the discussion were unknown to me. In 2001, while taking a women’s psychology course, I learned that FGC was considered a human rights violation. Students in the class, including those from countries where this was practiced, were surprised and “disgusted” that FGC continued to be practiced. I was taken aback, as I had assumed this was a custom that many practiced. I began opening up to female friends from similar and varying backgrounds. I quickly discovered I was alone in having had it done to me. I started looking into the practice of FGC and found that there were many factors contributing to the perpetuation of FGC. Some linked it to geographical location, religion, customs, sexuality, marriageability and education. I realized this was a complicated custom that could not simply be thought of as being continued by “ignorant” people. In fact, much of my family are college educated, wealthy, and progressive in terms of religion, and advocate for the rights of women. However, the reasons given for its continuation had been rationalized by them and somehow given cultural significance. I needed answers, and began a long journey that would ultimately lead to my decision to become a social worker, and work with women who have also been cut. Mapping the Healing Journey I was left feeling extremely confused, particularly as most of my family had decided to discontinue the practice due to religious reasons (stating that FGC is “haram” or a sin, and is not a “sunnah” or religious obligation. I searched for answers—or perhaps a place where I would feel accepted and learn to accept myself. I immediately reached out to gynecologists, gender violence organizations, and social workers. Much to my dismay, all were unaware of the FGC practice. Gynecologists stared blankly at my genitals stating, “At first glance, it looks intact.” However, they were unsure the extent of the “damage” done. Gender violence organizations stated that they dealt with different forms of gender violence. “This isn’t something we specialize in,” I was told. They referred me to organizations that had more familiarity. However, they were located overseas. Social workers were unfamiliar with the practice but verbalized their strong beliefs about it. They reacted with words such as “disgusting,” “barbaric,” and “horrific.” They “encouraged” and “empowered” me to advocate for change against the oppressive practice that they assumed was justified by Islam and patriarchal oppression. They also questioned the reasons that parents would allow for such a thing to happen to their little girl. This was extremely difficult to hear given my close relationship with my parents. I walked away feeling judged, ashamed, and defective. For the first time, I began to experience symptoms of depression, which led me to become more embarrassed and secretive about what had occurred.  Approximately eight years later, while reading a newspaper article, I came across the name of a Sudanese woman who started a grassroots organization for women who have been cut. The only experience I knew was one in which providers gawked at me when I told them what had occurred. I reached out to this woman, and she invited me to dinner to speak on a more personal level. Upon arriving to the restaurant, I was greeted with a warm smile. For the first hour of our meeting, she did not bring up the conversation of FGC. Surprised, I inquired, “So are we going to talk about… you know.” She replied, “When you’re ready, I am here to listen.” For the first time in a long time, I felt acknowledged, understood, accepted, and supported. We all begin our journey of healing somewhere. I am delighted to be a part of the Sahiyo team—and truly look forward to being a part of the healing process for others.  

Tracing the Origins of Female Genital Cutting: How It All started

By Debangana Chatterjee Though the exact reason for the origin of Female Genital Cutting (FGC) is unknown due to the dearth of conclusive evidences, multiple theories revolve around how the practice began. FGC precedes both the start of Islam and Christianity and is practised predominantly because of cultural traditions. FGC is not limited to a single community, religion or ethnicity. Rosemarie Skaine mentions that there are archival documentations indicating a Greek papyrus to have recorded women to get circumcised while receiving dowries around approximately 163 BC. In fact, there are several Greek scholars mentioning its prevalence before the advent of Christianity. Broadly, the practice is believed to have originated in Egypt where circumcised and infibulated mummies were found according to Frank P. Hosken. Gradually, it spread around the contiguous areas of the Red Sea coast among the tribes through the Arabian traders. In Hanny Lightfoot-Klein’s opinion, though the practice is believed to first have spread in the form of infibulation, clitoridectomy increasingly became the more acceptable form of FGC. During the Pharaonic era, the Egyptians believed in gods having bisexual features. Elizabeth Boyle recounts that these features were believed to reflect upon the mortals, with women’s clitoris representing the masculine soul and men’s prepuce that of the feminine soul. Thus, circumcision was considered to be a marker of womanhood and a way to detach from her masculine soul. As it became a socio-cultural norm, FGC became the utmost criteria for women’s marriage, inheritance of property and social acceptance in ancient Egypt. Lightfoot-Klein also suggests that population control was also one of the driving forces behind the practice as by controlling a woman’s sexuality; it kept the woman’s desires in check and made her sexually modest. Due to the narrowing of the vaginal orifice through infibulation, women would experience excruciating pain during sexual intercourse and thus, it becomes an effective measure to hinder premarital sex among women and ensure their fidelity. In fact, in places like Darfur, sudden desertification of arable lands made infibulation one of the population control measures. Boyle suggests the Egyptian practice of FGC and slavery can be correlated for providing an explanation of its origin. Before the advent of Islam, Egyptian rulers expanded their kingdom towards the southern region in search for slaves. As a result, Sudanic slaves were taken to Egypt and the areas nearby. Incidentally, slavery became commonplace with its aim to deliver servants and concubines to the Arabic world. As a result, women with stitched vaginas were in high demand due to the lessening possibilities that they would become impregnated. But after the arrival of Islam in the region, a strict prohibition towards enslaving other Muslims allowed the practice to get extended to other parts of Africa when the slave traders introduced infibulation among the non-Muslims to raise women’s value as slaves. This not only explains the introduction of FGC among North-African communities, but also explicates the coincidence of its spread in Africa simultaneous to the rise of Islam. In some cases, the practice has also sought its validation through Islamic scriptures. Doraine Lambelet Coleman says that one of the hadiths in Islam is thought to permit a limited form of cutting, though the hadith is also contested for being deficient of its genealogical authenticity. Despite the Prophet being explicit about sunna (tradition) on male genitals, FGC’s existence within Islam remains debatable. The practice was believed to be introduced in the South East Asian countries at around approximately 13th century, supposedly due to the reasons of Islamic conversion process after the change in regime. The predominant Shafi school of Sunni Islam in Indonesia and Malaysia justifies FGC as an Islamic practice and is culturally influenced by the Eastern part of the Arabian peninsula, the region where presently Yemen and Oman are situated. The justification for the practice in these countries come as they prescribe ‘nicking’ of the outer clitoral skin without really injuring the female genitals. In fact, this explains the burgeoning medicalisation of the practice in these two countries. In Singapore, the practice prevails due to the regional influence of Shafi Islam on the one hand and a few practicing ethnic Malay population on the other. The practice is rife among the Kuria, Kikiyu, Masai and Pokot people in Kenya, Zaramos in Tanzania, Dogon and Bambara people in Mali to name a few. Scholars have also indicated the income-generating facet of the practice in the face of unavailability of alternative livelihoods for the individual circumcisers. Though immigration due to slave exportation and other reasons is considered to be one of the predominant forces behind the spread of FGC in the West, L. Amede Obiora claims it was also reportedly performed on western women, especially in the United States, even in the 1950s as a cure to ‘unnatural female sexual behaviour’ that ranges from homosexuality, female masturbation to depression. References to ‘genital altercations’ in the Western countries are also not unfamiliar. In fact, Obiora also mentions that there are accounts of an English gynaecologist Isaac Baker Brown expressing his clear endorsement of such altercations in the early 1800s. To talk about India, the practice is prevalent among the Bohra community who came to the Western part of India from the North-African region as a trading community. The defenders of the practice in the community justify this as a stand-alone practice of khatna which, unlike other grave forms of it, only comes to denote removal of a pinch of clitoral skin bereft of its harmful effects. In this regard, often local circumcisers are being replaced by the medical professionals to highlight the hygienic conditions of its performance and gain greater legitimacy in its favour. On a whole, the practice has transformed and evolved dynamically since its origin. FGC through the course of its evolution came up with multiple facets and spread across cultures and geographic regions with various manifestations, meanings and narratives being attached to it. Tracing its origins, thus, not only helps in understanding its nuances but also minimises the tendency towards its

Khatna and the law, Part 1: Legislative Framework on Female Genital Cutting in Egypt

By Bhavya Singh Since the recognition of the presence of Female Genital Cutting (FGC) in parts of Asia, Africa and the Middle East, efforts have been made to eliminate it in these areas. At the international level, elimination of Female Genital Mutilation is a part of Sustainable Development Goal number five, which seeks to achieve gender equality. Organisations like WHO, UNICEF and UNFPA have worked for greater involvement of the international community to advocate against FGC. These efforts include creation or reformation of laws at the national level to counteract the issue. Legislation at the national level, however can be a complex issue as this practice is very deeply entrenched in the social fabric of the communities in which it occurs. Countries which have criminalised FGC continue to face problems, as punishment alone is not enough of a deterrent in a community where FGC is connected to tradition. In other countries, the implementation of the law has not been successful and has not seen prosecutions occuring. Communities themselves have resisted the effort to ban the practice, often arguing with officials who arrest those involved with carrying FGC out. According to the UN, FGC has reduced by 24% since 2001, however, at the same time if FGM continues at the same pace it currently occurs, around 68 million girls around the world will be affected by it by 2030. Thus legislative efforts have not been effective deterrents in most countries. To further understand the legislative framework regarding the issue, this blog series will explore the laws in place in countries affected by FGC in Africa, Asia and the Middle East.  In Africa, FGC is criminalised in 18 of the 28 countries it is reportedly practiced in. Criminalisation is only the first step in ending the problem. This fact is illustrated by the situation in Egypt where a law prohibiting FGC has been in place since 2008, but only two cases regarding FGC related deaths have been reported in the years following. According to 28 Too Many the law in Egypt is mentioned in Article 242-bis and Article 242-bis(A) of Law No. 58 of 1937 promulgating the Penal Code. The penalties for violation of the law include: Article 242-bis – the performance of FGC is punishable with imprisonment for between five and seven years. Article 242-bis – where the performance of FGC results in permanent disability or death, the punishment is increased to ‘aggravated’ imprisonment for between three and fifteen years. Article 242-bis(A) – anyone who requests FGC is punishable with imprisonment from one to three years if the mutilation is carried out. In 2016, an amendment upgraded the performance of FGC from misdemeanour to felony. Where a charge of misdemeanour earlier meant a penalty ranging from three months to five years, it now ranges from five to seven years. The provisions of the previous law had gaping holes, including exempting genital injuries with sufficient medical justification. As a result, FGC moved from hidden corners into medical hands. According to 28 Too Many, 78.4% of incidences of FGC are done my health professionals. The widely covered death of Soheir al-Batea brought this issue to light. A thirteen-year-old, she died at the hands of Dr. Raslan Fadl who performed the procedure. What is surprising here is the fact that despite existence of the law against FGC since 2008, Dr. Fadl is the only health professional to have been implicated for the crime. (See ‘A Small Nick or Cut, they say…’ by Priya Goswami) This, more than anything, makes it clear that the existence of law is not enough to end FGC. The need to conform to societal norms is so strong that people are ready to break the law for its sake. Also, in many communities, honour and pride are strongly associated with notions of women’s purity. Female circumcision, which it is often also referred to, is falsely propagated as a marker of purity, which makes FGC difficult to erase, as people value honour over a women’s safety, comfort or hygiene. Another reason why change is challenging is because the harbingers of change are often considered ‘outsiders’ instead of part of the community. The attempt at reform by these ‘outsiders’ is often viewed as propaganda against the community rather than upliftment of the community and concern for its community’s wellbeing. What will help is the inversion of societal notions. If FGC is seen as honourable, people should be made to see the reasons why it is quite the opposite, so it can be dissociated from honour. If FGC is seen to be a requirement for marriage, it needs to be seen as a deterrent instead. If FGC is seen as religiously sanctioned, people need to be made aware how it is not. The long-term solution involves changing the mindset such that FGC is recognised as harmful.. As seen in this blog’s case scenario, penalising an act that much of a society does not think a criminal offense in itself will not lead to the desired solution.  About Bhavya Singh:   Bhavya is 19 year old law student who has a deep interest in human rights and political theory. She is the happiest when extremely busy and wants to use her law degree to help as many people as she can. Always willing to talk about fashion and sitcoms, her other two passions, and she is hungry for new experiences and challenges to be thrown at her.      

I Said It Loudly: I am an FGM Survivor. Meeting FGM Survivors for the First Time Was My Cursed Blessing

(Note: The following blog was written by a survivor who attended a meeting, the topic of which was on mental health and FGC. Her story highlights the power of storytelling and how it helps break the isolation that many survivors experience in having undergone FGC and dealing with their trauma afterwards, an isolation that Sahiyo is attempting to break via the storytelling work we engage in with communities.) By Anonymous Country: Egypt & United States Even now, despite my brain trying to convince me it was a good idea to attend a conference on FGM and Mental Health, I cannot emotionally explain what really happened that day. The conference consisted of FGM survivors, human rights advocates, therapists, and policymakers, and almost two weeks after having attended, I started to have stronger flashbacks of the terrible experience I underwent with FGM in my home country, Egypt. I have mixed feelings of love, support, and pain for having attended that conference. My journey dealing with that horrible experience started in my home country where my rights as a human being were violated without my consent. I was bleeding and almost died having been operated upon twice. Even now, I cannot easily write these words. You may wish to read my full story published here. The experience of meeting with other survivors from India and other countries was something I strongly needed to help bring me face to face with the many answers to the many questions in my mind regarding why I experienced so much anxiety, sadness, depression, panic, and fear after my cutting. I wanted to know how other survivors had dealt with their FGM especially those who spoke up about it publicly, such as (Mariya Taher, Leyla Hussien, Jaha Dukureh , Naima Abdulhadi, and others) ; I am relatively new to openly talking about it and I still feel as if I am climbing a mountain when trying to share or speak about it. I heard these women saying how it was and is still difficult; and listening to them has helped me to feel that I am not alone in my experience. I saw how powerful the pain of this experience can be, but at the same time was inspired by the courage of what they and I were determined to do. To speak up about FGM openly and to try to prevent it from happening to other girls. That meeting was the first time I met with and spoke to other survivors from different countries, such as the United Kingdom, Gambia, India, not to mention the United States. At the time, I felt happy that this meeting could serve as a comfort zone for me, knowing others understood what I had gone through. Seeing all those women in that room encouraged me to say amongst the group of almost forty members that I too am a FGM SURVIVOR. I knew these women would not shame me and I did not need to fear being labeled, judged, or threatened for publicly admitting I was a survivor. My heart was beating and my breath was short as if I had climbed a mountain. I thought I was ok during the 8-hour meeting, yet I collapsed and burst into tears at the end; I cannot precisely tell you why, but I thought about how it is unfair that our bodies and souls are violated with this harmful crime. Most of the time I feel sad that I had to go through these painful thoughts, feelings, or flashback of the operation room and after. It feels like I am being retraumatized when something happens to trigger the original trauma of FGM.   I beg every mom and dad to see their daughters as beautiful souls who do not need to be cut to be pure. I am Muslim, and I can say it strongly, clearly, and angrily: Do not make it religious because it is not. My body was not supposed to be violated in this severe way nor was my soul. Yet, both happened. But I am comforted in knowing that there are others who I can talk to who understand my pain. FGM is a crime and more work needs to be done with healthcare professionals, as well as policy makers. Girls must be protected from being cut and survivors should be supported with the needed assistance to help them heal.

FGC Articles & Research in Other Countries

FGC in Asia: Female Genital Mutilation and Cutting in Asia Remain a Neglected Problem  FGC in Asia and the Middle East Map Following our report, Facebook removes ‘Islamic Female Circumcision’ page promoting FGM Report on Female Genital Mutilation in Dagestan Sparks Controversy in Russia Factbox: The hidden cut: female genital mutilation in Asia UNESCAP: Harmful Traditional Practices in Three Countries of South Asia: culture, human rights and violence against women Courageous Alumna Speaks Out for Maldivian Women A Truly Global Effort is Needed to Eradicate FGM by 2030 Activist push for end to female genital mutilation Southeast Asia’s Hidden Female Genital Mutilation Challenge Asia Network to End Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting Consultation Report FGC in Australia: Women Speak Out on Female Genital Mutilation in Australia Genital mutilation convictions overturned after new evidence showing victims remain intact High Court to hear appeal on female genital mutilation and prosecutors’ push for retrial High Court upholds NSW genital mutilation convictions FGC in Canada: Canada lifts silence on FGM It’s Time for Canada To Play Its Part In Ending Female Genital Mutilation FGM, A Bitter Reality: Canada Needs To Do More Female Genital Mutilation in Canada and the Limits to Criminalization  FGC in Colombia: Female genital mutilation in Colombia more common than assumed: UN ‘Cut with a blade’: Colombia indigenous groups discuss FGM FGC and COVID: Is the Pandemic Causing a Surge in Female Genital Mutilation FGC in Egypt: Egypt: The Law and FGM FGC and Islam: Islam and female circumcision Muslim doctors against female circumcision Debunking the Myth that Islam Requires Female Genital Circumcision Unmuting the Tabooed: FGM and Muslim Women’s Rights FGC in Indonesia: Increasing understanding of FGC in Indonesia: A field study by Islamic Relief Canada A Cutting Tradition Ending Female Genital Mutilation in Indonesia Ending FGM/C through Education and Community Engagement FGC in Iran: Ending FGM in Iran Needs International Support Female Genital Mutilation practiced in Iran, study reveals The Changing Paradigms of FGM/C Russian clinic in row over female genital cutting FGC in Iraq: Changing Perceptions to End a Harmful Tradition in Northern Iraq FGC in Malaysia: Review fatwa on female circumcision, Putrajaya urged DPM maintains that female circumcision is part of Malaysian culture Stop female circumcision, it has no medical benefit, says women’s groups Female Genital Cutting in Malaysia: A mixed-methods study Malyasia’s anti-FGM advocates: Leave our bodies alone  Malaysian Public Attitudes and Perceptions towards Violence Against Women   FGC in Oman: FGM Study in Oman Shows High Prevalence All Over The Country FGC in Pakistan: ‘Something has been taken away’: Pakistan’s well-kept FGM secret Lack of Data and Dialogue on Female Genital Mutilation in Pakistan Violated Hopes: My Struggle to Report on Female Genital Cutting in Pakistan I Asked Bohri Women About Their Practice Of Female Genital Cutting Or Female “Khatna” And Here’s What They Had To Say Why is it so difficult to talk about female genital cutting in Pakistan?  Pak former minister to initiate drive against female khatna in India and Pakistan  FGC in Philippines:  Pag-Islam: An Exploratory Action Research on Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting Practices in the Bangsamoro Region, Philippines FGC in Russia: Female circumcision in Moscow clinic sparks ‘complete shock’ Russia Furore over FGM in mainly Muslim Dagestan Activists Call For Investigation Into Cases of Female Genital Mutilation, Saying It Would Be A First For Russia FGC in Saudi Arabia: New Study Showing Scale of FGM in Saudi Arabia Surprises Rights Activists FGC in Singapore: Local movement against female genital cutting turns to Ramadan bazaars to advocate its cause  “A Tiny Cut”: Female Circumcision in South East Asia – An Overview of FGC in Malay community Female genital mutilation: The women fighting against Singapore’s hidden human rights violation Ultra-modern Singapore’s dark secret: female genital mutilation FGC in Sri Lanka: Sri Lank-Culture: Mothers Watch as Daughters are Circumcised  Stop FGM Middle East: Sri Lank Harmful Traditional Practices in Three Countries of South Asia: culture, human rights, and violence against women Sri Lanka should Criminalise the practice of female genital cut, activist tells CESCR 61 Butter knife or sharp blade? Either way, FGM survivors in Sri Lanka want it to stop Female circumcision in Sri Lanka is ‘just a nick’, not mutilation: supporters Lawyers and activists urge Sri Lanka to ban genital cutting FGM/FGC Victims speak out FGM in Sri Lanka: It’s never ‘just a nick’ Sri Lankan Islamic Centre condemns ban on female circumcision as ‘affront’ Towards Understanding Female Genital Cutting in Sri Lanka FGC in the United Kingdom: UK Serious Crime Act 2015 Legislation – FGM Fact Sheet Female Genital Mutilation: Legislation, policy, and guidance Dawoodi Bohras in London Told to Stop Female Circumcision Calls For Compulsory School Teaching Of FGM UK Home Office Multi-agency statutory guidance on FGM The Female Genital Mutilation Survivors Teaches Victims How To Enjoy Sex Vagina surgery ‘sought by girls as young as nine’ Perception and barriers: reporting female genital mutilation

A 17-year-old girl passes away due to circumcision in Egypt

Is circumcision really as harmless as it is made out to be?   We woke up to a sad news yesterday as a 17-year-old girl, Mayar Mohammad, died of severe bleeding caused by circumcision surgery in Suez, Egypt.   The practice of female circumcision or any form of female genital cutting (FGC) has been banned in Egypt since 2007 and this procedure was carried out illegally on Mayar in a private hospital.   Earlier in Egypt, a doctor’s license was revoked for killing a 13-year-old who died of similar circumstances due to a circumcision surgery. Even then the practice continues to exist, shifting more and more towards medical professionals carrying out FGC illegally.   While many people quip about the differences between circumcision and female genital cutting, these instances are a reminder of what the procedure could also lead to. A poignant reminder that circumcision within the Dawoodi Bohra community, too, is seen as a cultural imperative and that these days the practice is increasingly shifting to gynecologists who belong to the Bohra community and who believe that there is no harm in carrying it out on young girls.   “Often the practice of Khatna, Khafd  or Sunnat is brushed away, stating circumcision  (which also falls under the category of Type 1 FGC) to be incomparable with more severe forms of Female Genital Cutting commonly known to be practiced in Africa, although some African countries practice less severe forms too, depending on the ethnic tribe involved.”   The community in Egypt is known to practice circumcision and not other severe forms of mutilation, but it is hard to say what must have been the extent of cut due to which Mayar lost her life. This also holds true with Khatna among the Dawoodi Bohras. Even though it is believed to be a small nick or cut, who can claim that the procedure might not lead to severe hemorrhaging? Or because of the child’s writhing one might cut off more than necessary by accident?   As Sahiyo, we feel extremely sad to hear about this development and want our audience to ask themselves the following questions:   Can one be absolutely certain that while Khatna is performed, more than the supposed required amount of skin doesn’t get cut off by design or by default? Just because some communities have begun to medicalize the practice, does that mean khatna holds ground scientifically, particularly when the World Health Organization has come out against all form of FGC? Is it okay to violate a girl’s rights to her body without her consent?     This incident raises many more questions and we hope our readers will continue the dialogue on these issues, either by posting a comment or writing to us at info@sahiyo.com.   Meanwhile, In a moving facebook post Mayar’s friend went on to blame the mother.   “Mayar died due to ignorance and backwardness of her mother, who regarded her daughter as guilty only because she was created a female,” Rawan Al Jamal, classmate of the victim, mourned her in a Facebook post.   Whether the mother is to be blamed or the doctor or the system which has made the practice mandatory; sadly Mayar no longer is alive.   Read more about the incident here.  Also read Daily Mail report here