Jeynah is the word for "baby" or "infant," in Juba Arabic, and my new nickname around the workplace is now jeynah kawajah.
Even though I'm considered a young adult in my culture, in South Sudan I have no husband and no children; Therefore, I'm a child and warrant the nickname.
Strangers often ask me where my husband is, to which I answer that I have no husband and no, I don't want one. I attempt to spurn attempts to be set up or any encouragement that I find a South Sudanese husband by saying that I'm still young and I don't want to get married. And saying that I have a boyfriend in the US doesn't deter anyone. I'm not married and not currently pregnant, so that means I'm highly available.
The undeterred include a South Sudanese man that sat next to me on the plane and told me he would be my boyfriend in Africa. He also offered to be my bodyguard at the airport which was helpful with the overwhelming chaos that was the cramped Juba airport while I was running on zero energy after traveling for over two days. He directed me around and carried my bag over the crowd and even helped argue with the customs official that wanted to squeeze some money out of me for "customs charges." Although I was very grateful for his kindness, I was also happy to get away before he expected some sort of reciprocation...
Another desiring candidate includes a man working locally that continuously calls me (although I'll say his call also rarely gets through).
One of my South Sudanese friends in Yei says she gets annoyed at all the boys who see her moving around town with me and later ask her to make some sort of connection for them. Apparently, the idea of marry a kawajah woman is somewhat exotic and means a free ticket into paradise in America.
I wore a nice dress into town to visit a friend last weekend and I was harassed like I've never been before. I heard several cat calls, those hissing noises that people make to get your attention, and some bold enough to come up to me and say, "Madam, those men over there would like to speak with you."
My least favorite is when I walk past the groups of men who sit on motorcycles near busy roads. These "boda" drivers are like the South Sudanese equivalent of taxi drivers except much more dangerous and often drunk. I always have to ignore their comments, including a humorous and bold one from the other day. He asked to kiss me, thinking I couldn't understand him as I walked away. Literally translated in simple Arabic, his comment was, "I want to grab your mouth and pull!"
I try to do everything right: I leave the door open if a man comes into my house, I don't lead anyone on and I get away quickly if someone appears to have certain intentions. I always wear long pants and skirts well below my knees and I cover up the girls whenever I leave my home. Still, until I get a tattoo on my forward that says "I'm not interested" (which still many people may not be able to read due to the illiteracy rate), I don't think I can expect much to change. After all, I'm still jeynah kawajah.
One of my co-workers told me the other day that I would get a high price for a dowry, maybe 100 cows, so that's flattering at least.
Even though I'm considered a young adult in my culture, in South Sudan I have no husband and no children; Therefore, I'm a child and warrant the nickname.
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| I may be 23, but both of us are still babies |
The undeterred include a South Sudanese man that sat next to me on the plane and told me he would be my boyfriend in Africa. He also offered to be my bodyguard at the airport which was helpful with the overwhelming chaos that was the cramped Juba airport while I was running on zero energy after traveling for over two days. He directed me around and carried my bag over the crowd and even helped argue with the customs official that wanted to squeeze some money out of me for "customs charges." Although I was very grateful for his kindness, I was also happy to get away before he expected some sort of reciprocation...
Another desiring candidate includes a man working locally that continuously calls me (although I'll say his call also rarely gets through).
One of my South Sudanese friends in Yei says she gets annoyed at all the boys who see her moving around town with me and later ask her to make some sort of connection for them. Apparently, the idea of marry a kawajah woman is somewhat exotic and means a free ticket into paradise in America.
I wore a nice dress into town to visit a friend last weekend and I was harassed like I've never been before. I heard several cat calls, those hissing noises that people make to get your attention, and some bold enough to come up to me and say, "Madam, those men over there would like to speak with you."
My least favorite is when I walk past the groups of men who sit on motorcycles near busy roads. These "boda" drivers are like the South Sudanese equivalent of taxi drivers except much more dangerous and often drunk. I always have to ignore their comments, including a humorous and bold one from the other day. He asked to kiss me, thinking I couldn't understand him as I walked away. Literally translated in simple Arabic, his comment was, "I want to grab your mouth and pull!"
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| All the cows to be used for my estimated bride price |
One of my co-workers told me the other day that I would get a high price for a dowry, maybe 100 cows, so that's flattering at least.
