I. The philosophical contributions of African women

Pius Mosima, who has written a book comparing the philosophies of Odera Oruka and Wim van Binsbergen has in his contribution to this collection drawn attention to the one woman who was interviewed by Odera Oruka and published in Oruka's 1991 collection on sage philosophy, that is, Peris Njuhi Muthoni. Of the 18 interviews and 12 transcript excerpts included in the book, Muthoni is the only woman in Oruka’s book. While she did not have formal academic schooling, he credits her with an interesting philosophical insight on the question of God's existence, as well as on the topics of culture (for example, female circumcision, and on popular notions of equality between the sexes) and human freedom. Mosima interrogates the transcript of the interview and highlights several ways in which the style of questioning aimed at Muthoni was different than the way in which men were questioned. He also thinks Oruka was unfair to dismiss her ideas since she engaged in cultural critique to an extent equal to or better than the other men whose interviews were included in the published study. This careful attention to ways in which women are dismissed and not taken seriously is one of Mosima's strengths. Mosima turns to Jacques Derrida who noted that in any dyad of terms, “the first term in a group of two is given pride of place” (34). The whole idea of “man” can only make sense in contrast to a woman. These categories are then presented as if they are fixed and stable when they are not. While this brief allusion to Derrida may make one think that Mosima is calling all ideas of gender into question, he concludes his chapter with suggesting that African philosophers conduct more research into rituals that emphasize women's role and power.

In her chapter, Rianna Oelofsen draws upon the philosophical insights of Nkiru Nzegwu to argue that a philosophy of Ubuntu would require equality between the sexes. Carefully guarding against misconceptions that ubuntu idealizes the past or neglects the value of individuals, she draws upon Antjie Krog's description of African self-awareness being formed “through conversations with those around one.” (44, italics in the original). Emphasizing the requirement of dialogue of the self with the many protects “ubuntu” from the charge of unanimity and foregrounds relationships and interdependence. She then summarizes a criticism of ubuntu put forward by Oyowe and Yurkivska that charges ubuntu proponents with blindness regarding the gendered nature of Afro-communitarian society. Oelofsen then draws upon Nzegwu's works to argue that gender difference in a society does not have to lead to gender hierarchy. Nzegwu's writings on the Onishta of Nigeria provide a case of gender equality in a dual sex scenario that emphasizes relationality and caring in the context of family, rather than autonomy. Oelofsen is enthused by Nzegwu's example, although she worries that role-based gender complementarity may leave the theorizing of African societies burdened with heteronormativity and heterosexism.

In her chapter, Olajumoke Akiode argues, drawing on Sophie Oluwole and Oyeronke Oyewumi, that Yoruba pre-colonial society was not oppressive to women due to the idea and practice of gender complementarity. Drawing on C.S. Momoh, she asserts that power imbalances in marriage had more to do with age differences, not gender (65). However, this begs the question of why there was a pattern of older men marrying younger women. She does note however that Oladele Balogun has evaluated Yoruba proverbs to discern that there has been “Proverbial oppression” of women, that is, many proverbs are “cruel and unfair pithy sayings that derogate the dignity, integrity, rights and freedom of the women folk” (66). Despite her own reference to Balogun's counter-evidence to her position, Akiode reiterates her claim that Yoruba society was non-subjugating toward women. She goes on to put the blame for current mistreatment of women on the colonial inheritance of Britain in Nigeria and goes further to assert that colonialism is to blame for the current absence of women in the field of African philosophy. She concludes by encouraging African women philosophers to come up with “alternative moral theories birthed by their peculiar experiences and concerns” (70).

In his chapter, Oladele Abiodun Balogun also blames colonial mentality (both Judeo-Christianity and Hellenism) for displacing “the African idea of womanhood” (143, 147). He advocates conceptual decolonization as articulated by Ngugi wa Thiong'o. He champions the Yoruba idea of complementarity, pointing out that in Yoruba religion, both “male and female cults existed, and both men and women could serve as priests and priestesses” (150). Society was well-ordered based on gender dualism. Still, in certain contexts women could engage in activities usually considered as men's activities, such as plantation farming and divining (151). He quotes Sophie Oluwole who showed that sometimes women had essential roles in political administration.

Renate Schepen holds out the promise that the methods of intercultural philosophizing and dialogue can help to reach out to and include African women's voices and ideas. She reviews the literature to note that even authors like Jay Garfield and Bryan van Norden who stridently criticize philosophies taught in such a way as to marginalize African and Asian philosophy, nevertheless do not suggest to their readers even one African woman philosopher (75). She wants to promote the study of women such as Oyeronke Oyewumi, Sophie Oluwole, Awino Okech, and Zanele Muhoni. She draws upon the ideas of Luce Irigaray who suggests that the sexes should be understood as different, thereby promoting the idea of coexistence of different perspectives. Schepen wants to take this a step further to suggest that dialogue may lead to the hybridity of identities and cultures. She likes the insights of Okech and Muholi because they escape heteronormativity and promote more fluid understandings of gender. She concludes her article stressing that it is African women who can and should counter their marginalization in the field of African philosophy. What the broader philosophical community can do is to invite African women into a place of intercultural dialogue that avoids reinforcing a dominating center in contrast to peripheries. Instead, we need a plurality of centers.

In her chapter, Betty Wambui writes on “an afro feminist response to environmental questions” (167). As a world community we need to act quickly to avoid environmental crisis, and yet “some are temporarily buffeted by capital and propaganda that allows them to question the reality of our common environmental crisis and delay action” (169). For the Kikuyu community, ownership of land was always considered “transient and custodial” (171). Education was in the home and family. But, colonial laws targeted indigenous practices that had helped both women and the environment. Traditional family structures (for example, polygamy) were deconstructed. Afro womanist environmental perspectives recognize that anthropocentrism leads to environmental degradation. Patriarchal domination needs to be replaced with communal knowledge and sustainable cultural practices.

In her chapter, Anke Graness expresses grave concern that even a large, seemingly exhaustive book like the Oxford Encyclopedia of African Thought does not include an entry highlighting a single woman thinker of African descent. She argues that Nobel Prize Winner Wangari Maathai of Kenya deserves to be studied in-depth for her ideas. Further, Graness engages in an intercultural philosophical comparison between the ideas of Maathai and Vandana Shiva, an Indian scholar and ecological activist. Maathai engages in a critique of the concept “modern,” noting that recent changes to Kenyan traditions result in a “modern deficit of values” (p. 192) such as a selfish focus on money and a commodification of the natural environment. She counsels introspection to find the source of inertia, passivity, and destructive habits within ourselves. This self-knowledge is a prerequisite for us to take responsibility for current problems. We also need to realize that if we work with others we can change our situation. Vandana Shiva notes that the same world view that considers nature to be merely an economic resources leads to both environmental exploitation and the exploitation and inequality of women. Shiva advocates that we pay attention to the need for biodiversity and sustainable farming practices. Monocultural farming was advocated by men. Graness notes that while Shiva is explicitly anti-capitalistic, Maathai focuses more on spirituality (for example, the reverence of trees in several religions, including the mottainai principle of the Japanese) and social values than Shiva. Graness argues that since Maathai foregrounds the need for a shift in consciousness, her work is philosophical. Graness wonders, however, how Maathai intends to address the relationship between social values and social structures.

II. Critique of academic practices

In his chapter, Bernard Matolino, a Zimbabwean teaching in South Africa, notes that African philosophy started out as “a counter-hegemonic enterprise” (126), but since the field has encouraged or at least permitted men to dominate, it has not fulfilled its role as a counter-hegemonic force. He does put this trend in a global context, however, by noting that male domination of the field of philosophy is rampant worldwide. He quotes Western feminist scholars like Miranda Fricker, Jean Grimshaw, Sally Haslanger and others, who note that men often presume they have a God's eye view of the world, and it is feminist thinkers who drew attention to the social location of thinkers. Feminists also critiqued the male style of argument as war, and countered instead that philosophizing should be dialogical. While it is now well known that Kant and Schopenhauer thought of women as inferior, Matolino notes that even Kenyan philosopher Odera Oruka failed to mention any women when he described nationalist-political philosophy in his inventory of approaches in African philosophy. What about women's role in the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya?, Matolino inquires. When Griaule describes his interview process with Ogotommeli, he notes that Ogotommeli did not want to be interviewed in a courtyard, where curious women could overhear his conversation, thus describing philosophy as a strictly male endeavor. Matolino thinks the early (“pioneer”) scholars in the field of African philosophy subtly excluded women, perhaps because they had been influenced by their education in foreign metropoles. He cites du Toit who argues that flawed institutionalization is to blame for women's marginalization in the discipline. Du Toit argues that women prefer literary self-expression to philosophizing as it is practiced as an academic discipline. Matolino disagrees with du Toit and insists that it is wrong to describe African women as choosing to express themselves literarily when in fact they are pushed out of philosophy. African philosophy must abandon narrow and masculine forms of argumentation and instead practice plural forms of reasoning in order to help women to feel welcome.

While co-editor (and main organizer of the conference in Calabar) Jonathan Chimakonam probably intends his chapter to be an outline of what the collection as a whole contains, there are some weaknesses in his chapter. He reiterates his description of African philosophy as “a systematic study” which began in the twentieth century. Other scholars, for example Peter Park, Anke Graness, Chike Jeffers, Souleyman Bachir Diagne and others insist that an adequate account of African philosophy should begin in ancient Egypt and include Medieval and modern Ethiopia and Timbuktu.Footnote ¹ In fact, Peter Adamson and Chike Jeffers, in their podcasts “History of Philosophy without any gaps,” suggest that the seventeenth century Ethiopian woman, Walatta Petros (who resisted Jesuit attempts to wean Ethiopians away from their own ancient Christianity), should be appreciated for her philosophical contributions and further studied by philosophers.Footnote ² After reiterating his history of African philosophy, naming all the famous men of the twentieth century, Chimakonam reasserts his point about women being marginalized. He then describes his “conviction,” which is that “all the denials women suffer in the society have a common source, namely the power to control knowledge creation, acquisition, evaluation, regulation and dissemination in the society” (p. 12). For this point he relies on two of Miranda Fricker's concepts: “testimonial injustice and hermeneutical injustice” (p. 13). The problem is that he has only so far told the history of African philosophy in twentieth century academia. He has not given an account of women's contribution to African knowledge, a topic which would be so large that it would be hard to summarize. (Elinami Veraeli Swai's book, Beyond Women's Empowerment in Africa begins to sketch such an inventory, focusing on Tanzania).Footnote ³ Chimakonam has also not referred to the knowledge that women have been sharing with each other in women's societies (such as the Maasai Olamal.) Footnote ⁴

Chimakonam then uses unclear language to describe his prescription for the problem of epistemic marginalization. He advocates “epistemic necessity” by which he means “granting women power over knowledge” (p. 14). Does he mean that men will “grant” this to women? He says that women do not currently have power over knowledge, and men should give up being the restrictive “gatekeepers” of knowledge (p. 16). He further states that to achieve epistemic justice and allow women to be epistemically liberated, we must be engaged in “Campaigning for women's epistemological entitlements” (p. 15). Men must own up to their “crime” of marginalizing women and then they must engage in “leveling the ground between men and women” so that epistemic power is equally distributed. It is good that Chimakonam recognizes a wrong and that he advocates a change in practice, but sometimes the language he uses is a bit unclear regarding the exact nature of the past wrong or the future proposal. His focus is more on how men should change bad practices and not as much on how men must acknowledge women's many accomplishments and contributions.

In his chapter, Mesembe Edet notes that several authors have tried to periodize African philosophy, but it turns out to be a difficult project. Western historiography is already biased toward recognizing male accomplishments and ignoring or glossing over women's contributions to history. Historiographies like those written by Momoh and Omoregbe ignore women's contributions to ancient African philosophy. Both Hallen's Short History and Wiredu's large Blackwell anthology, as well as Jonathan Chimakonam's online encyclopedia article on the history of African philosophy include women only briefly. He then mentions the important philosophical works of Sophie Oluwole, Wangari Maathai, Nkiru Nzegwu, and Anke Graness. He coins a new word, explaining that “Afro-herstoricism seeks to advance women's views and style of philosophizing, but will be inclusive of the male view” (164).

In his chapter, Egbai Uti Ojah notes that there are several African women who under a larger umbrella of African Studies have written works on feminism, but he thinks that they will be easily sidelined by African male philosophers. He notes that women in Africa are often relegated to the kitchen where they must labor to prepare meals for the family, and while this is necessary work to sustain life, it is often work taken for granted, and it is not considered intellectual work. Drawing upon the models of Western women thinkers like Lorraine Code and Elizabeth Potter, as well as Nigerian Nkiru Nzegwu's work, Ojah wants to encourage African women to explore the question of, what are the basic epistemic structures for women? If it means something special to say that we philosophize in African place, as Bruce Janz says, Ojah wants women scholars to write about how they philosophize from a woman's place in African society. This brief chapter is more of a request for future studies than it is a study in itself.

Lastly, the chapter by Oji Uduma notes that women have been marginalized in African philosophy and that the lofty goals of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action of 1996 have not come to fruition. He speculates that it may be possible that women's under-representation in philosophy is not due to discrimination but rather that women have less of an interest in philosophy – a view Uduma finds expressed by Camille Paglia. Surveying Paglia's critics and interlocutors, as well as recent writings on implicit bias and stereotype threat, he then tries to draw some conclusions for the African context. He concludes that the situation in Africa is one of “multi-jeopardy,” since already philosophy as a field is marginalized globally, and then the continent of Africa is marginalized by Eurocentric scholars. Departments of Philosophy in Africa are also guilty of Eurocentrism. He also reiterates a point that M. Arvan notes, that within philosophy, “the more relevant to real life the sub-field is, the less prestige the area seems to have… Our discipline has basically taken the areas of philosophy that are as far removed as possible from the daily experiences of injustice, exclusion, etc., that non-white/non-males experience and given those areas the greatest prestige…” (p. 243). In these circumstances, no wonder African women do not feel a greater urge to participate. Their under-representation is therefore a sign of a much larger crisis of identity in the field of philosophy as a whole. The only solution would be to decolonize and to reconstruct philosophy departments in Africa.

On that note, I want to draw attention to the fact that while there are only two black African women in the collection, neither currently holds a position in philosophy at a university, while all the other contributors in the collection do. While Akiode has a PhD in Applied Ethics (having written her dissertation on an application of John Rawls to the topic of corporate sustainability), she is the only contributor who does not have a position in academia. She went on to finish “an executive course in Public Infrastructure Partnership at the University of Queensland International Development, Brisbane Australia” and is founder and Executive Director of an organization called Centre for Ethics and Sustainable Development which is a non-governmental organization in Lagos, Nigeria.Footnote ⁵ Reading the interview with her on this website, one can glean that she has her own philosophy of development and a critique of gender inequality in Nigerian society, but in this chapter, like other contributors, she more often spoke through referencing the works of others and did not often state her views directly. While Betty Wambui has a Ph.D. in Philosophy, her current academic position is as Chair of Africana and Latino Studies at her university. While she has taught philosophy for many years, she feels more at home in an interdisciplinary context focusing on Africa, women and gender. As her university website currently states, Dr. Wambui teaches “courses including Intro to ALS [Africana and Latino Studies]; Marked Bodies; Race, Class, Gender, Culture; Race, Gender and Law; Gender, Power and Difference; and Transnational Feminisms, among others.”Footnote ⁶

Why have these women left philosophy departments? Did they experience discrimination? Did they feel unwelcome? Did they decide that academic philosophy was too far afield from their real interests? These two authors do not address these issues directly. We are left feeling like we would like to hear more from African women themselves about their situation, instead of men hypothesizing about it. Luckily there are websites devoted to this topic. There is a website that includes video interviews of African women feminists, including philosophers like Sylvia Tamale. One can also download for free two books that include the first person narratives and statements of African women regarding issues of discrimination, marginalization, and empowerment.

There is a recurring small irritant throughout the book. There are several places in the book where authors make comments that seem to reinforce stereotypes of women rather than counteracting them. Oftentimes the examples are not clearly explained and/or are not related to the larger arguments of the chapter in which they are found. For example, the co-editors’ introduction states that women who have lack of pride in womanhood “seek release from it in order to become men” (p. 1). While the authors go on to say one does not have to shed “womanhood” to philosophize, it is not clear who advocated that in the first place. Who are these “others” who tried to turn women into men, the unnamed persons who held this wrong view and are being criticized on the opening page of the Introduction? (I suspect it might be a characterization of some feminists, but if so, I don't think those feminists would have described their own goal in this way). In chapter one, Chimakonam asserts that women are patient, while men are in a hurry. Men manifest courage while women excel in endurance. Referring to a blog that purports to summarize the psychological differences between men and women, he praises women for their ability to “absorb mental stress and pressure” in a way that men are incapable of (p. 13). One feels that these could be hasty generalizations, not well proven, and one cannot quite discern why they are mentioned. Egbai Uti Ojah thinks that feminists who have been fighting for their rights have been “on the rampage” and they have created a lot of stress for their families, engaging in what he calls “family guerrilla warfare” (208). He suggests that if African philosophers (men and women together) address women's marginalization and allow women to participate in African intellectual space, the wars in the family will be averted (208–09). While his concern for reform is laudable, it is not clear to me why he characterizes women's feminist struggles so negatively.

III. Focus on specific problems confronting women in Africa

In his chapter, Elvis Imafidon chooses as his topic the challenges of widowhood, especially in Southern and Eastern Nigeria. He is concerned about a widow's plight, in that often she has depended upon her husband financially. In addition to the grief and loss she feels, both emotional and economical, Imafidon thinks certain funeral traditions additionally burden the widow by interpreting the scenario as one in which the widow herself is unclean (due to the death) and in need of cleansing. If she does not go through these humiliating rituals she may be deprived of her deceased husband's estate. He contrasts these rituals aimed at the widow with very different rituals and expectations for a widower, who is in contrast encouraged to begin a new sexual relationship quickly. He asserts that these differences are due to sexism, although he notes that men may be involved in an “epistemology of ignorance,” having not come to grips with how their own traditions embody sexism and patriarchy. He concludes by advocating Kantian reason in order to jettison authoritarian traditions and “indefensible ideologies” (105).

Louise du Toit's chapter argues that human rights discourse can help women in Africa achieve sexual liberation as long as the language and concepts of rights are used carefully. Universal moral laws are often invoked to criticize local customs and local systems of power. Du Toit advocates a “thin” concept of human rights, following Judith Shklar who says that rights language that avoids cruelty is less controversial than thicker versions of rights language that attempt to positively describe the good for humans. Du Toit's concern is how to stem the tide of an annual 66,000 rapes in South Africa, especially since about 40 percent of those rapes happen to children. The traditional language of human rights that perhaps unconsciously imagines an “idealized male body” has to be changed to take into account “women's sex-specific vulnerabilities to rape” (117). Du Toit denounces what she thinks is an unfair strategy of politicians who consider discussions of rampant rape taboo. She thinks such leaders are too concerned about male honor and should care instead about “female bodily integrity and sexual freedom” (120). Du Toit thinks that discussions of African traditions that do not respect African women's bodily autonomy should be discussed in front of a “living gathering of people, the lekgotla, where they belong, for scrutiny and reinterpretation” (121). If the status quo does not serve the flourishing of all people, then it is time for traditions to change. Some traditions, like the Water Snake (of the Groot Gariep), emphasize that women need and should have sexual pleasure. She notes that the work of Sylvia Tamale in Uganda shows that African traditions can be modified to protect women's sexual exploration in a time of dangers like HIV and AIDS. Not an ossified past, but a reimagined and live storytelling tradition can aid women in self expression and create a world where women's right to sexual integrity is respected.

While the book no doubt has some shortcomings, considering the dearth of focus on African women philosophers up to now, a collection with this focus is welcome. Hopefully a book like this could encourage readers to find and read the book length writings of Sophie Oluwole or Wangari Maathai.⁷ And the more encouragement there is of this topic, the more African women may find themselves anthologized in philosophy textbooks and included as keynote and plenary speakers at philosophy conferences. If men also read women's works, cite them in their own works, and encourage their colleagues to prioritize hiring women in their departments, then perhaps finally women will feel more comfortable and appreciated in our profession.