The Power of Women: Nobel Peace Prize winner’s memoir

The Power of Women: A Doctor’s Journey of Hope and Healing

Author: Denis Mukwege

ISBN-13: 978-1780725321

Publisher: Short Books

Guideline Price: £20

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) was labelled the “rape capital of the world” by a UN official, but Denis Mukwege’s new book is a call to re-examine that. “Congolese men were no more dangerous than their counterparts elsewhere in Africa or indeed in the west,” he writes.

Mukwege is a gynaecologist and director of Panzi Hospital in the eastern DRC. In 2018 he shared the Nobel Peace Prize with Yazidi activist Nadia Murad. The Power of Women: A Doctor’s Journey of Hope and Healing is the story of a life in medical care and activism; a history of one of the world’s most naturally rich yet troubled countries; and an examination of the prevalence of sexual violence worldwide.

Mukwege, who calls himself “an accidental feminist and campaigner”, was born in a shack in Bukavu in 1955, when the DRC was still a Belgian colony and life expectancy was just 38. Both his grandmothers died in the “deadly lottery” of childbirth. His family’s home was bombed 12 years later, killing two.

Observing the work of his father, a Protestant pastor, made Mukwege realise the limitations of the “power of prayer” and come up with the “lofty ambition” of becoming a medic. As decades of conflict followed, he says his life was shaped by forces beyond his control and “circumstances forced me to become a specialist in treating rape injuries”.

This book is a history of the DRC, from the fireworks and bicycle races that five-year-old Mukwege experienced when independence was declared, before the reality of a vast country with looted coffers and only a few dozen university graduates sunk in. It touches on Belgium’s King Leopold II, who brutally seized the state and oversaw the deaths of millions of Congolese people in the 19th century, as well as the missionaries who came later, teaching both father and son.

What Mukwege calls “the tragedy of the Congo” – long-lasting civil conflict among dozens of militia groups which has led to more than five million people dying or going missing – still “cries out for much greater understanding”. This is a society without a functioning justice system, he says, but there are other reasons for the prevalence of sexual violence, such as the deliberate displacement of people living close to mining operations.

Some estimates say as many as 400,000 women a year are raped in the DRC, which Mukwege says seems possible. (Others dispute these figures. I recommend an episode of NPR's series Rough Translation, The Congo We Listen To, as a companion piece.)

Mukwege’s hospital opened in September 1999; about 60,000 sexual violence victims have been treated there, some multiple times. He recalls a young girl born from rape who becomes pregnant the same way herself. As many as 450 children conceived this way are born at the hospital each year.

In the DRC there is barely one doctor for every 10,000 citizens (compared with one for every few hundred in many European countries), leading to great pressure. Mukwege uses this book to document some of his learning, not least the idea of “turning pain into power”. Included is a brief history of the medical treatment of women, from explanations of fistulas to the discomfort when remembering James Marion Sims, an American doctor described as the “father of gynaecology” who carried out experimental work on slaves without using anaesthesia.

This is also an interesting read on diplomacy, with Mukwege describing how he was forced to cancel a UN speech after being threatened by a Congolese government minister, or how a 2010 UN report was toned down when Rwanda threatened to pull its 3,000 peacekeepers out of UN operations. (The doctor has survived assassination attempts and UN peacekeepers now guard his home.)

Throughout, Mukwege is at pains to show that the issues the DRC grapples with exist elsewhere. One in three women worldwide has experienced either physical or sexual violence, according to the UN. It is a universal problem “that occurs in homes and in businesses, on battlefields and in public spaces”. Victims often can’t access justice, making rape “effectively decriminalised”, even in countries with well-funded and corruption-free legal systems.

The fight against sexual violence “begins with women and men speaking out” because “sexual abuse thrives in silence”, Mukwege writes, and this book is one of his many efforts to do just that.

He has certainly become a skilled campaigner, and his account will be of interest to others trying to raise awareness of specific issues. It recounts visits from celebrities and making contact with international NGOs. He also runs through other notable activism around women’s rights in the past few decades, from SlutWalk to #BringBackOurGirls to #MeToo.

Interspersed with all this are the reactions of men: an army general who cries listening to a young survivor; DRC president Joseph Kabila refusing to speak to women while visiting the hospital; a former militia fighter who recalls why he raped, showing no regret. And there are the stories of Congolese women, coming together to support each other while remaking and reshaping their lives.