Victor Bwire, on December 2 last year, argued that the two-thirds gender law should not be seen as a women’s issue as currently presented. It gives the impression that in any situation where women are not well represented, they would be given more positions.
I had not paid attention to this argument until l saw the phrase gender law is not about women representation law. But does it really mean that once the law is passed, it will affect how society elects representatives to any public office? Will it mean that in any social organisation where women make up more than two thirds, the other third should be left to men? Will this create new unforeseen complications generally?
Article 81 of the Constitution calls on the government to develop policies and laws that ensure not more than two thirds of elective or appointive bodies shall be of the same sex. It applies to both men and women. Article 81 (b) requires that “not more than two thirds” of members of elective and appointive public bodies shall be of the same gender. In this spirit what happens to bodies predominantly women-led like Maendeleo ya Wanawake? What about public bodies very much dominated by men?
At first, l laughed when popular radio presenter Maina Kageni joked that he would run for Nairobi woman representative in the 2017 general election. Now I wonder, if we implement the gender rule, will society be destroying the achievements of women in the last 30 years of demanding equal opportunities as men or will it strengthen affirmative action? It will mean that women will not have a women's only group nor will men a men's only group without a good balance of either gender.
What are its implications in the Church? As a public entity, the Church will start feeling the pressure of perhaps disbanding women-only associations and men-only associations. Will this be good for the Church or bad for the growth of both men and women? Should we argue that this gender law should only be allowed to take effect in government institutions and not the private sector?
Rwanda and Ethiopia have been used as models. But this type of comparison has its own faults.
Jeanne Izabiliza, 2013, and the USAID report ‘Rwanda Democracy and Governance Assessment’ give a good overview on how women have contributed to the leadership and reconstruction of Rwanda since 1994.
Rwanda has a population of 8,128,553 inhabitants, 52.3 per cent of whom are women. The average population density is 400 inhabitants per square kilometre. Immediately after the genocide, the population of Rwanda was estimated to be approximately 70 per cent female. Now, some 14 years later, over 56 per cent of the adult population is female.
Women heads of household comprise 34 per cent of the population and the country has an annual growth rate of 2.9 per cent. The 1994 genocide and its aftermath have had tremendous effects, with ramifications felt in and outside the country. It is estimated that between 400,000 and 500,000 children were fostered or adopted by households headed by women.
After the destructive genocide of 1994 Rwandese women in different leadership positions played critical roles in mobilising fellow women to live together and to find common solutions to their own problems and their country's. For this reason it is fair and just that women representation should be higher than men.
Ethiopia has followed suit, though from a different lens, by picking women for key positions such as president and chief justice. But the key question is whether appointment by selection and competitiveness justifies gender equality in political leadership? In some studies the question has not been about equality but equity.
People are not opposed to embracing gender law, but the insincerity of the political class and executive on the appointive posts for public office.