Are sexist and sexual violence becoming commonplace in the land of Teranga? By removing the word "woman" from the ministry dedicated to it, and by allowing its deputies to insult female citizens on television, the current government is sending a negative signal and casting more than a shadow of doubt on the country's "love" for them.

At the symposium-tribute to Senegalese sociology researcher and feminist Fatou Sow ¹ , organized in May in Dakar by the Foundation for Innovation for Democracy, with the title "Feminine Democracy," Professor Fatou Sow delivered a masterful inaugural lecture entitled "Sex, Gender and Democracy: Lessons for African Women?" The aim was to historicize African feminist struggles through the dual prism of sex and gender. Part of this lecture also focused on the bodies of African women: "Why so much violence against women? Who owns women's bodies?"

This question, laden with political weight, refers to the context of violence against women in Senegal. Indeed, since January 2024, 196 cases of rape and murder of women have been committed. On May 31, women's and feminist organizations organized a sit-in ² to denounce this violence and demand that the public authorities take the issue into consideration. This violence, which, in most cases, results in murder, prompted several hundred women, all dressed in black, to gather and protest. A memorandum, sent at the end of the rally, recorded all the demands, one of the most urgent of which remains the revision of the Family Code ³ as well as the application of a specific law against femicide.

Beyond the voices of feminists, which are, after all, very audible, it is urgent today to address the social problem of femicide in Senegal in a targeted and efficient manner. Even if feminists campaign against this phenomenon with all the means at their disposal, this violence against women should not be a concern solely for feminists, but for society as a whole.

“Hearts” rather than deep indignation

In the front page of its August ⁷ edition, the daily newspaper L'Observateur reported a case of burglary resulting in rape. During the robbery of the villa of Beninese architect Lydia Assani, the criminals, in addition to stealing the safe, raped her 28-year-old daughter. This umpteenth rape, in addition to provoking anger and indignation, particularly on social networks, the showcase of our existences, makes us ask the following question: does this country that is Senegal love women? One of the most tenacious commonplaces in the Senegalese collective psyche is the love (carnal, filial, sororal, and even religious) felt for women.

From an external perspective, there is general agreement that Senegalese women are loved. This creates a certain ^{contradiction} between "tone policing" and the absolutely taboo way in which we want to discuss the issue of sexual violence.

Whether you're a feminist or not, whenever the subject of femicide or any other type of violence (physical or psychological) is broached, love is used to censor the comments and dampen the outrage. But the problem remains, and the violence is increasing. This is evidenced by the series of videos made by actress Halima Gadji, in which she clearly denounces the sexual abuse she suffered. Blaming these accusations on the depression she's been suffering from for several years, most of the people who witnessed her confessions online looked away and preferred to send "hearts" rather than deep indignation. This is Senegal today...

Women considered subordinate

Senegal, this country where a woman is killed because the meal was not prepared, this country where a woman cannot have a medical abortion in cases of rape or incest despite the ratification of the Maputo Protocol ⁶ (which guarantees the right to health and control of women's reproductive functions), this country where, when we protest against the low percentage of women in decision-making bodies, we are given the argument of "competence"... This country does not like women.

In June 2023, following the verdict in the trial of Adji Sarr against Ousmane Sonko, we, members of the Senegalese Feminist Network, wrote a column expressing our outrage at this arbitrary verdict, as the accusation of "rape" had been reclassified as "corruption of youth." Because it seemed inconceivable to us that at a time when Senegal prides itself on the democratic exception that has marked its political trajectory, installing each regime peacefully, women are still lagging behind, treated as subordinates, their bodies used to satisfy male impulses, their concerns never taken into account.

Today, state misogyny, carried by both men and the few women who work with them, has taken hold in Senegal. It is worth noting that the meager gains made in women's rights by Senegal – thanks to the joint efforts of women's and feminist associations – are being shattered due to the authorities' inaction in the face of violence against women, the rise of masculinism on all media platforms, and the trivialization of sexist and sexual violence, the media coverage of which is more than problematic.

On television, Adji Sarr is called a “prostitute”

As a reminder, in January 2020, Law 2020-05 ⁷ , classifying rape and pedophilia as crimes, was promulgated, the result of several years of advocacy by numerous activists, researchers and officials. In 2023, the trial between Adji Sarr and Ousmane Sonko provided the opportunity to apply it, but no way . In August, rape cases continue to make headlines, with no reaction other than superficial indignation. For example, whenever the Adji Sarr-Ousmane Sonko case is mentioned, as was the case in July between columnist Badara Gadiaga and majority MP Amadou Bâ on the set of Télé Futurs Médias ⁸ , the young woman is called a "prostitute" . The heated exchange that followed in the program, and especially the judicial epilogue, namely the arrest of the host (still in pre-trial detention), are once again proof of institutional violence against women.

Senegalese feminists, with all the burden they carry on their shoulders, are almost the only ones reacting and pointing out the climate of trivialization of sexist and sexual violence in which Senegal is immersed. This quasi-legal community is carrying out monitoring work that should normally have been that of the Ministry of Family and Solidarity, which, let us remember, was previously called the Ministry of Women, Family and Gender. This disappearance of the mentions "Women" and "Gender", in favor of "Family", inaugurated the systemic erasure of Senegalese women from the public sphere. This decision, widely shared by supporters of the current regime, has established a more than uncertain future for women's rights in Senegal. By erasing them from decision-making spheres, by raping them and killing them with complete impunity, only disruptive feminist knowledge remains to counter this violence.

As long as we do not create in Senegal a socio-political and legal framework to take into consideration this cause of national interest that constitutes violence against women, as long as we continue to stifle the dissenting voices that rise up to protest, as long as we do not escape the spectator effect to finally diffuse responsibilities, femicides will continue to be a reality in this country. And let no one come to us to talk about love and kindness, because how else can we believe that this country does not hate women?