WE ARE CALLED ONE BY ONE
WE ARE CALLED ONE BY ONE is a still photographic documentary that explores individual stories in regard to the power of ritual and tradition surrounding female genital cutting (FGC) in Mali, West Africa. My intent for the project is to illuminate the cultural motivations of communities that practice FGC in Mali.
“We are called one by one” is a recurring quotation I’ve heard during interviews with young women in the community of Konza, Sikasso, to explain how they are summoned one day to meet the traditional cutter. It also serves as a metaphor that as humans we are called to seek an understanding of our world and its peoples.
Female genital cutting is a human rights violation.
Konza, Mali
Bintou Samake, Blacksmith cutter
Bintou Samake, a traditional practitioner of female genital cutting, said she would wait for the proper position of the stars before performing the cutting of young girls. Bintou’s relatives taught her to use the sky as a compass to guide her endeavors as a cutter born into the Bambara Blacksmith caste. Boo, short for Bintou, believes it is potentially harmful to cut if the stars are not properly aligned. “The stars split as if they are open,” she said, most likely describing the Milky Way. “It’s a sign. If the stars haven’t burst, if you cut children, it can cause illness or death.”
Women like Boo born into the Blacksmith family are often the exclusive practitioners of female genital cutting in Mali. Every Blacksmith female learns basket weaving and crafting amulets.
Only a select few among the Bambara Blacksmiths are taught how to use knives for cutting. In one of the most celebrated, yet secretive rituals, a girl in Konza is taught that to become a respected member of the community, to become marriageable, to reduce her desire for men, and to have a safe pregnancy—she must be cut. Many of the same reasons are used to justify cutting within communities around the world. According to existing data that's available in only 30 countries, over 200 million girls have been cut.
Jemani Kone
Jemani Kone was cut as a small child but old enough to remember. She believes that the practice is an important part of life. A handful of girls within the community describe one woman, a trusted relative, asking that they follow her to an isolated place. “There were many women present,” she remembered. “My mother was among them. They lay you down. The area in your front—they cut it. They use a small knife to work.”
Yaya Kone
Yaya Kone was an infant when she was cut, which is becoming increasingly common as a way to keep cutting a secret as organizations spread their messaging throughout the country that it is a human rights violation. FGC is not illegal in Mali.
Jenabou Kone
Jenabou Kone was 9 years old at the time she was cut. “When it’s your turn, an elder will come fetch you and say, ‘Be brave, you are going to become mature.'”
Balakisa Kone
Balakisa Kone spoke of many women being present in the area reserved for cutting. “We are called one by one to start the excision. Some grabbed my feet and some grabbed my hands.” “I cried when I was being cut,” she recalled. Balakisa said she will protect her daughter, Aminata, from the social norm.
Salimata Sidibe, midwife
Salimata Sidibe works as a professional midwife in Konza, but she does not practice FGC as other midwives do because of her training at a regional health center. She was taught that cutting comes with complications.
As a midwife Salimata Sidibe has often been called upon to treat hemorrhaging after a ceremony if the traditional healer tries in vain to stop the bleeding—using the bark of the jala tree. "Being Bambara is profound,” she said. “The traditions are deep.”
