Women, take a Bow!!!

What a day it was, a day Women were celebrated all over the World. In DR Congo, March is their month, celebrations everywhere, festive, full of flavour and fervour. For me personally, it's a day I will always cherish, a day I dare not forget. I have never felt this experience back home and I have never felt this celebrated either. Before I start on my story, I have to thank the chairman of the organisation my husband works for. I will always be grateful for this opportunity.

It all began one afternoon in the 4th week of February, when I was invited to take part in the Women’s day march down the CBD with the Women employees of the organisation. I had no hesitation in saying yes, infact I stood up to say yes. Sharon, the affable receptionist at the organisation brought us materials to tailor our outfits and also took us to do them. My first Congolese outfit!!! Well, can’t really call it that, the material was traditional, bright and colourful but the outfit, not so, but am sure I will get one made soon.

A week ahead of March 8th, I could talk nothing other than ‘Women’s Day’. Can’t believe the day used to pass off in a hurry back home. Am sure P must have thought, "the already talkative woman has just gone on an overdrive". Thankfully, from his point of view he was buried deep for the whole week. I was most certainly talking to myself, am sure, all my talk fell on deaf ears. The outfit looked remarkable and fit perfectly, despite the tailor not paying too much emphasis on the measurement process. He definitely deserves praise. Back home the tailors make such a hue and cry over measurements, only to get it wrong at the end. My accessories were all laid out a day before. I only had to make sure I got showered and dressed in time.

The D day arrives finally. P has never wished me before, this time he seals it with a kiss. I try hard not to make a joke of it. I pause for a moment and tell myself, "what the heck, I‘ll take it". We complain if they don’t wish us and we complain, if they do. We have been asked to assemble at the meeting point at 9am. We talk about taking pictures together, my friend Saishree and I. We do our solo shoots but completely forget the one we are aiming for. On the road we realise we are in a maze of sorts. All roads don’t lead to Rome today. We finally manage to reach on time and find no one from our group has arrived. Is it April already??? We see Women everywhere, in groups, dressed in Women’s day finery, none from ours. When we call, we are told we are at the right place. After waiting for about half an hour, we feel something is wrong, we look around to see one woman from our group ( from the outfit she is wearing ) screaming on the phone. It seems we are not where we should be. Miscommunication is called out.

At the next meeting point, we still don’t see the numbers the group is supposed to be made of. Some of us are annoyed at the lack of organisation. Where is the organiser??? She seems to be available only on the phone. After a while we decide to move again to another place. We end up standing right in the middle of the roundabout close to where the event gets underway, we are still in 'No Man’s' land but are thrilled at the vantage point. The numbers slowly add and now we have a larger group. We finally move to our starting block, we wait our turn under the sun, then slowly move into a bakery for some shade. We see a sea of colours now. We start identifying groups based on clothes and what a display it is. Taking in every bit of it despite the hot sun and fatique slowly catching on!!!

A few more than required want a hold of the banners, I couldn’t care less. Am happy am there and am happy to take the pictures. The organiser is still missing in action. Am sure there is a deputy around, but where??? Intriguing!!! We start marching, can’t do justice to what am feeling in words. Am engulfed in a rush of emotions, of pride, excitement, happiness, expectations, hope, I feel an adrenaline rush, am completely overwhelmed. We march past the roundabout, amidst people rooting for us, we take a right turn into the road leading to 'Poste', we walk through a corridor created by the citizens of Lubumbashi, watching us with admiration from both sides of the road. I now see a VIP podium at 'Poste' on my side and the band playing on the other. We walk past them, Photographers flashing their cameras, TV crews all round, journalists talking on their microphones. Once past the VIP arena, we sight our finishing line. We are all exhausted from the heat but I don’t see a single Woman who has her mouth shut. I see even the quiet ones busy narrating their accounts of the event.

We are now in the Company bus, which would take us to the next Venue…a place to unwind, a place for some piping hot lunch and some ‘dirty dancing’. Cool drinks and ‘Simba’ served, the girls slowly begin loosening up. They should be called the ‘Movers and Shakers’. The rhythm, synchronisation, the sensuality in their style of dancing makes me just sit and watch wide eyed, it’s something to behold. Soon more follow. Before it gets out of control ( in a good way of course ), lunch is served. Typical Congolese fare, I must say I thoroughly enjoy it. Am also called to say a few words on camera for the waiting journalists. I don’t remember what I said, but I do remember fumbling around to find words to express what I have been witness to. Just before the afternoon ends for us, the organiser turns up. Credit to her for putting together a good party. By the time I get back home, it is time to prepare for the evening. No time for a snooze, there is actually but am too excited to spend that time snoring.

The evening comes, we hurtle to ‘La Plage’, the venue for the Cocktail party. The husbands dutifully drop us, before heading back home for a poorer dinner. One attribute the Congolese share with us Indians, a complete lack of respect for time. People walk in at their convenience and make no apologies for it. We find a nearly empty venue, despite being informed the programme would start on dot. We are ushered to our table, which would seat ten of our friends from the march. We sit waiting, sipping our choice of liquor. We are still talking animatedly about the scene from the afternoon. The programme begins and there is not a dull moment after that. An extremely popular singer from Kinshasa is around to perform and what a fantastic performance that is…and interactive. Ms Miriam Katumbi, the sister of the Governor of Lubumbashi must be credited for the fabulous show she has organised. Absolutely down to earth and refreshingly unassuming, it is a pleasure to see her go about the business of the evening.

What a wonderful day!!! I have never felt so celebrated before, am also extremely glad to have shared the day with the Women employees from P’s work place, people I would have never met otherwise.

The hope is to have Women celebrated everyday and hope it doesn’t end with just a party.