Meet Gulu
Gulu Bola lives in one of the poorest, most desolate areas of Africa. The land has been soaked by the blood of tribesmen fighting for access to water, wandering hundreds of miles in search of grazing grounds for their meager herds of goats, sheep, and cattle. They have become victims of massive governmental land grabs as powerful people 500 miles away try to attract foreign business investment. South Omo valley is still a place where women are often treated with less respect than a chimpanzee in the field.
Gulu’s birth family was unusual for Hamar. Her father was a monogamist. (Hamar elders often have four to five wives.) Gulu had two sisters and four brothers, most of whom are now deceased. The boys grew up working in the fields and following livestock. Gulu and her sisters spent their time grinding sorghum, tending the young animals, and walking miles each day to fetch and carry water. No one in the family could read, write, do simple arithmetic, or speak the national language, Amharic. Gulu was married as soon as her menses began. Her father received cattle, sheep, and honey as her bride price.
Just Imagine . . .
One morning, you receive word that strangers have arrived to escort you to the hut of your new mother-in-law where you will stay for four months, learning to care for her son properly, and an iron collar will be forged around your neck. You have to prove that you are not “spoiled goods!”
Quite the honeymoon, eh? Oh, and you are not allowed to inherit anything — no land, no livestock, no form of livelihood. Even if your husband beats you and marries five more women, you are not allowed to divorce. You have been “purchased.” He owns you.
Gulu’s Path . . .
She was taken to Minogelti, the most dangerous Hamar kebele (similar to a small county). No stores, no services, just a police outpost. It is very remote (thirty-two miles from the nearest health center) and shares a long border with the Dassanech tribe. Skirmishes frequently occur over grazing land and some young girls fetching water are raped. Dangerous, arid, incredibly remote.
Gulu followed the norms of Hamar society and had eight children, six boys and two girls. She understood that a woman’s value is determined by the number of live babies born. But as soon as her husband married a second wife, she decided to leave him. She was done suffering his cruel and abusive behavior. Her decision to leave carried an exorbitant price. She was ostracized and almost killed.
Communication with Gulu was forbidden. No one was allowed to give her shelter or food. Her husband demanded that she be killed if she didn’t leave the area. His friends banded together, spreading falsehoods, ranting, “Kill her, kill her.” Gulu hid out while the community raged among themselves.
Elder Wisdom
Most elders of these ancient tribes are uneducated, poorly clothed, and have some strange (to us) habits and traditions. But when it comes to the welfare of the community, they are incredibly wise. For days, they discussed previous decisions made by their ancestors, reflecting on the outcomes. They talked about Gulu’s strengths and weaknesses and her contribution to the community-at-large.
Weeks passed as they recalled how Gulu had advocated tirelessly to entice NGOs (non-government organizations) investment in remote Minogelti. They identified her as their greatest advocate. The longer they talked, the more courage they harnessed to defy ancient rules and taboos. Minogelti needed Gulu. They intuited what would happen to their community if her voice was silenced.
When the elders finally decided to rescind her death sentence, word was sent to Gulu’s hideout; she could stay. . . and live. Her husband was told to be satisfied with his second wife. Making a radical choice, the elders defied tradition and chose Gulu, their voice. Eventually, she built her own hut in Minogelti. She got rid of the iron yoke around her neck the day her eldest child married.
Impact of Courage
This woman started with nothing in a land of virtually no opportunity. Over the course of her journey, she was brutally abused and expelled from her community. She has endured slander and isolation, but she has not let that define her. Gulu defines herself. Today, she reads, writes, and speaks fluent Amharic; she runs a successful rural trading center and is a recognized spokesperson for Indigenous people of Ethiopia. She has even visited the United Nations and met with members of the US Congress. It’s true, I was standing next to her!
How was Gulu able to do this? She built her life brick by brick. She took responsibility. She imagined her picture of success in her environment. She is curious and fearless, open-minded, and relentlessly seeks knowledge. When she was visiting my home in Minnesota, we drove by a large field of corn. Gulu wanted to understand how it was possible to process that much corn.
Our next stop was a local grain milling company.
Star Dust Infusion
My work in Ethiopia began with an exhausting forty-day survey to determine the initiatives required for Hamar people to have a chance for a healthy life. By the time we arrived in Minogelti, I was exhausted. The ever-changing, mysterious rules of the government, the prejudices and indifference of local officials, and the suspicions of tribal elders had depleted my energy. I began doubting the possibility of making a sustainable difference and was ready to give up my dream. Perhaps I needed to search for purpose elsewhere.
We were setting up camp when a group of women appeared and demanded to be heard. Gulu was their leader. Suddenly, my dream sparkled — my help-mate had arrived. She and her friends were eager to learn. They planted seeds of change and courageously modeled new behaviors on the ground.
Gulu and her friends helped me gain perspective and infused me with “star dust” power. They changed the trajectory of my life.
