Only two women are serving on the Board of the AU, out of a total of ten members. African leaders appear united in having a limited number of women leaders in the organisation. I realised this during my visit in 2019 to AU headquarters in the Ethiopian capital Addis Ababa. I could literally play a 'spot the woman' game down the hallways and meeting rooms of the AU, keeping score as I went.

The organisation mirrors the continent's burden of patriarchy. Ironically, African women are in the majority. Data shows that just over 46% of sub-Saharan women make up the continent's labour force, showing there is no shortage of qualified and capable women to have a seat at the table. So the stark reality of gender disparity in the AU organisation was indeed troublesome.

Only two women are serving on the Board of the AU, out of a total of ten members. African leaders appear united in having a limited number of women leaders in the organisation. I realised this during my visit in 2019 to AU headquarters in the Ethiopian capital Addis Ababa. I could literally play a 'spot the woman' game down the hallways and meeting rooms of the AU, keeping score as I went.

The organisation mirrors the continent's burden of patriarchy. Ironically, African women are in the majority. Data shows that just over 46% of sub-Saharan women make up the continent's labour force, showing there is no shortage of qualified and capable women to have a seat at the table. So the stark reality of gender disparity in the AU organisation was indeed troublesome.

Only four women presidents in Africa

African feminist writer Bibi Bakare-Yusuf highlights that in African contexts, patriarchy refers to the organisation of social life and institutional structures in which men have ultimate control over most aspects of women's lives and actions.

Men head many households, and male children are often groomed to take over the reins from day one. Frequently, men have the final say in the decision-making process, and women have very little to no say at all, even on matters that affect their autonomy. These gender roles and power formations are also the case in the African political arena.

Only four of the 54 African countries have female presidents, namely Ethiopia, Gabon, Togo and Tanzania. This is a paltry 7%  demonstrating the gross levels of exclusion that women face. Women are quite often excluded from participating in politics at a local, national and regional level.

Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma became the first woman to chair AU the AU and was not "missed" when her tenure ended in 2017. While her capability and decision-making while serving in the AU may be debated, Dlamini-Zuma faced heavy scrutiny, labelled as a leader "out to lunch or blissfully missing in action".

African politics is deemed to be too mucky a game for women. Yet Article IX of the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and People's Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa, widely known as the Maputo Protocol, articulates the right to participation in the political and decision-making process of women.

I find it ironic that this instrument which was adopted nearly two decades ago, has not been practised in the very structure that passed it as policy. How then do these articulations permeate through to the rest of the continent if they are not practised at the highest level?

Rise of formidable women

Over the decades, we have witnessed the rise of many formidable women who, given a chance, would infuse the much-needed new perspectives in African politics. Young women such as Lindiwe Mazibuko of South Africa and Fadzayi Mahere of Zimbabwe have stepped up to participate in national politics. They undoubtedly have been met with various obstacles, such as arbitrary online abuse. Mahere was randomly labelled a "gold digger" by a Twitter user for example.

Mazibuko and Mahere face a double-edged sword in the form of their youth and gender. Men are quick to dismiss women as being too emotional to participate effectively in decision-making processes, particularly in politics. This couldn't be further from the truth. Women have successfully steered the ships when they have been entrusted with the highest positions.

If the hypothesis is that women are not effective political leaders, then Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Joyce Hilda Banda and Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala disprove that preconception.

Africa is plagued by different wars and conflicts mainly due to poor governance and has been dubbed a dark continent. While we are certainly not a dark continent, the systemic exclusion of women from power structures casts a dark cloud on our political landscape. Women have played a crucial role in the liberation struggles across the continent, yet their male comrades have dominated post-colonial Africa. The main form of participation afforded by women in African politics appears to rest on their ability to provide much-needed votes for male candidates.

Gendered exclusionary nature of African politics 

The gendered exclusionary nature of African politics has rendered women mere spectators in electoral and governance processes, limiting their voices in the decision processes that very much affect them.

It is high time that Africa recognises the indomitable force that women are and the much-needed leadership change they can bring about in the local, regional, and global arena. Regional and continental bodies such as the AU must pave the way for the integration of women into its structure, creating a ripple effect that will trickle into the continent at large.

Unless regional bodies show leadership to dismantle patriarchy and usher in women leaders, the countries which they serve will not work to dismantle patriarchy either, leaving women marginalised, looking in from the fringes.

This Op-Ed was first published by News24.

President Cyril Ramaphosa has dealt with the Covid-19 pandemic laudably, showing decisive action and leadership. Now he needs to show the same leadership in dealing with GBV. The extended lockdown has left many breadwinners faced with the grim reality of possible job losses and pay cuts. Many attach their sense of self-worth to their economic status and there are negative emotional and psychological consequences when this is threatened.

Men are most likely stressed and anxious because of economic uncertainty and women find themselves at the receiving end of these heightened emotions and violence.

A research study on GBV conducted by the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation in 2017 revealed that "the social backlash faced by some men with competing notions of masculinity pushes them to assert an assumed lost power through committing violence against women".

Women are vulnerable and highly susceptible to abuse – now more than ever. They are locked down in the same places as their perpetrators. This has presented challenges, as seen by the high incidents of GBV cases recorded by the SAPS during lockdown, with over 2 230 cases in the first week.

GBV has continually emerged as a recurring theme and key area of concern during this period and women are now literally at the mercy of their abusers as they are economically dependent on them.

The norm is that women who are abused are moved to shelters of safety. I can only imagine how traumatic it must be for a woman to be abused by an intimate partner, yet be expected to leave the place she calls home in order to evade the person who abused her. This practice is biased towards the interests of the perpetrators of GBV and is not a victim-centred approach. It's high time that the powers that be challenge this status quo and set a precedent by removing the perpetrators from these shared spaces – not their victims.

The authorities have demonstrated during lockdown that they have the capacity to deal decisively with any and all forms of breaking the law. This stern stance must be extended to perpetrators of GBV. One would argue that removing an abusive man (who is most likely the breadwinner) from his home would leave his family without anyone to provide for them. But I would counter-argue that such action would force the perpetrator to reflect on his actions
and their consequences. This would also deter would-be perpetrators.

The government should also set aside a fund for families who would find themselves in this position and use a multisectoral approach to support the remaining family members.

Civil society organisations are already at the forefront of assisting the marginalised in communities and an intervention by government will go a long way in consolidating their efforts. The government has set up a GBV Command Centre hotline, 0800 428 428, but this is not enough.

This opinion piece was originally published in The Star.

Defence lawyer Peter Daubermann's targeted attack on witness and rape survivor Cheryl Zondi has exposed detrimental flaws in SA's judicial system.

In a country where an unprecedented number of sexual and gender-based crimes are left unreported, South Africans watched in horror and dismay as Peter Daubermann, the defence lawyer for Timothy Omotoso, eviscerated Cheryl Zondi on the witness stand. Daubermann's courtroom antics are very much a microcosm of the larger flaws in the SA judicial system. Zondi alleges that Omotoso took advantage of his position of power and raped her over a period of two and a half years from the time she was 14 until she was 17. I ascribe to the notion that the accused is innocent until proven guilty, but cannot condone such treatment of victims of sexual and gender-based violence. Daubermann's stance in the courtroom has undermined the great strides that have been made by many activists in this country, both men and women, who have tirelessly campaigned for victims of such crimes to speak out.

Read the rest of this opinion piece here.