"So... Can you be a feminist and a Christian?"
If I can, I'm done trying.
Hey hey Softies.
I hope we are doing great, that we had a good week. I hope June is treating us good. To all new subscribers, welcome to the Softies gang; this side we embrace our capacity to care. The only thing we shame is non-chalance. For my rainbow hunnies, I hope pride month is priding. Whether you are out or not, safe or not, I want you to know that you are valid, your queer is yours and you are enough and whole as you are. Also, I love you and I see you.
I am doing well enough, present state of the world aside. I started the week struggling with the most insane fatigue, which I had to push through because I had classes and pending assignments. I had to go to hospital to give samples for pre-operative evaluation, so now my doctor will also be aware that my blood iron is low. I decided to visit Hilda, as I have only seen my babe once this year, and I missed her honestly. I failed to make the journey back, though, so I might stay until my next psychiatrist’s appointment. This is how I am practising kindness for myself right now.
Coincidentally, this particular newsletter was inspired by a conversation I had with Hilda last year. And then, just this afternoon, I shared with her my idea, because I wanted her thoughts and we ended up talking and learning about societies and the creation of gods, further expanding my thoughts on it.
You did not know this, but this has been in the drafts since last year. On International Women’s Day 2025, I gained sudden inspiration to continue; said inspiration being a Ugandan feminist organisation launching a virtual museum of African Feminist “Icons”, where there are various women who may, in fact, be iconic, but not necessarily feminist. But I was too busy to go looking into it, so I left it again. Then, most recently, a known young social activist was defending the right for megachurches to demand exorbitant sums to build huge church buildings. Yes, we all have the right to spend our money how we want, but the cognitive dissonance to back some things while protesting others the same thing elsewhere begs the question; What do you really stand for?
When I was in that position, I lived with an inner turmoil that kept me up at night. I would toss and turn, for asking myself and God things like: “If women are really equal, why do wives have to submit to their husbands for marriage to work?” and “If God is truly a just god, then why is it selective?” “If God really loves us all as we are, then why does He require a sacrifice of who I am to prove my devotion?” “Why is being gay more of a sin to God than child molestation?” “Why is it that my own value is measured by whether I am partnered with a man?” Why why why? And why is it I found safety in something that is also causing large-scale harm? I wanted answers and I was gravely disappointed by them.
The answers made me uncomfortable, more than I could bear. Meanwhile, the questions kept growing, and the discomfort with them. At some point, I arrived at the fork in the road that everyone who is religious and truly serious about changing the world must arrive at, sooner or later. I had to decide whether I could live with ignoring facts and practise Christianity as it was, or step away from what I knew and find my own god, one that was not apathetic or joyful about the state of the planet and the marginalised —even if the god was myself.
I say “truly serious” because straight women are notorious for appropriating feministic values, not so they can destroy the systems of oppression and build better ones, but so that they can find and partner with ‘better’ men. I mean, what better way to get those than to align with the ideology that demands better from men? Many times, they do not even care that the men are still complicit in the oppression, as long as he is treating them well. And then after they have been ‘picked’, they denounce the same feminist values they co-opted. We will argue all we want, but this rings true in religious circles, especially.
Before we continue, I want it clear that I believe everyone has the right to practise the faith that gives them peace and comfort in this world. If it is in white Jesus or Buddha, please, my message today is not to stop anyhowly. Something I am coming to find peace in is having personal spiritual practice, something that anchors me and is unaffected by other’s opinions or ideas that may conflict with them, so long as it does not cause harm to others.
That said, it is not possible for me to be a Christian and a feminist. I tried, trust me, and it was incompatible with my peace. I know one person who somehow manages to do it; what sets her apart appears to be that she does not use her religious praxis to interfere with her politics, and I have so far found those to be sound. She is one of the Christians I have seen who is loudly anti-Israel for the right reasons, i.e., she recognises Zionism. I hope to one day sit in conversation with her to understand her internal environment, if not for myself, for others who wish to navigate the same path.
To add to that, I do not think it is possible—or even right—to be a religious feminist. By this, I mean, practise and theorise a feminism rooted in principles of [Abrahamic] religions. It is a spiritualised form of liberal feminism, which is not necessarily trying to destroy the oppressive structures but seeks to obtain equality of women within these structures. Liberal feminism is why we have women in positions of power who are complicit in oppression, think Uganda’s Woman Member of Parliament, Sarah Achieng Opendi and Justice Julia Sebutinde of the ICJ.
Feminism is a movement. An important one. It is not going anywhere as long as patriarchy, and all its children are also in existence. What movements need for effectiveness is unity. If my faith/beliefs were taking the movement behind (let’s pretend I liked the idea of submitting to my husband), I would remove either myself from the movement entirely or the faith from [the movement’s] work. I would owe it to feminism and my desire to see change to get out of the way.
This movement is bigger than me, it is bigger than you, it is bigger than all of us. It will survive without you, it will thrive with people who believe in it as much as Hilda does, as much as Sylvia Tamale does, as much as I do. It deserves our all and, by god, it will get it.
So instead of asking how I can unite my religion with my politics, I ask myself what my faith can do for my politics, and if not, it can marry the bin.
Book of the week
This week’s reading suggestion is an anthology from Omolola Ijeoma Ogunyemi, called Jollof Rice and Other Revolutions. The short stories are all connected and the book has heavy political themes, as you’ll see if you read it. My favourites were the first and the last ones, and if you want to find out why, you’ll have to read to find out, x.