A Woman's Knowing
"Today I feel like a real African woman, a strong Black African woman," Isata proclaims, her pride radiating as she smooths her traditional attire. The beauty she carries flows from generations of wisdom passed through her hands.
In the bush around her home, she reads stories written in leaves and roots, knowledge inherited from her mother's patient teaching. "When my mother was coming into the bush, I used to follow," she recalls. "When she picks the leaf and I asked her, 'Mother, this is for what?' And she said, 'This is for stomach ache. This is for dysentery.'" Each plant held its purpose, its power, its proper time for harvest.
Her own journey into motherhood taught her first-hand what women need in their vulnerable moments. "Like for me, I was just feeling like my mouth always full with spit," she remembers of her first pregnancy. "And then it doesn't make me tired. I go, I do my performance well." Even then, she had questions. She remembers asking her mother, "When somebody has got pregnant, how can they deliver the baby? Are they going to tear my belly and took out the baby?" Her mother's answer came in riddles: "Where the needle passed. Is there the thread will follow?" An old woman finally explained, showing her with actual needle and thread – where life enters, life also emerges. It was the beginning of her understanding that birth knowledge comes in many forms.
Now she holds space for other women's journeys, knowing when to offer traditional remedies and when to guide them to the hospital. "If you have got pregnant, it should not be good for you to be worrying," she counsels, "because you need to care for the baby inside of your womb. You have to stand strong, be healthy, eat good food, fresh food."
Her relationship with her own children carries the same wisdom. Every Sunday, she gathers her family for open conversations about life, love, and their bodies. "You are my pension," she tells her daughters. "When I get retired, yes, you are my pension. I will not put hope to you 100%, but I know with time you'll say, 'Let me go and see my mama. Let me bring rice for mama.'"
She wants more for them than she had herself. Though her own education stopped at class four, her quick mind and determination helped her learn English. "It's just that I have smart brain," she says with a laugh. "That's why I'm speaking this kind of English. But if not, I could not even know how to speak English." Her greatest hope is for her daughters to surpass her – to focus on education rather than following her path into traditional dance and healing.
Still, she can't help passing on some of her mother's teachings. "Like sometimes I don't show people that I can do those things," she confides. "Like when I saw my colleagues or those people I know, I see they are pregnant, pregnancy disturbing them. I will ask one of my daughters, 'You go and pick this leaf for me and bring it.'"
In a world where healthcare access remains limited, Isata bridges ancient wisdom with modern needs. The hospital now provides delivery kits and recognizes traditional birth attendants' role in the community. "First we did not use to communicate," she explains, "but now the hospital people come with those kits." She knows which cases she can handle and which need medical intervention: "If you know that your delivery is very delicate, critical, you should always visit the hospital."
In Isata’s presence, women find recognition of their whole selves, their struggles, their strength.