Reclaiming the Pen: Owning Our Stories as African Women

"Whose story is this?" Is a question I constantly asked as a child, flipping through brochures that featured smiling African women, reminiscent of my own community in Ethiopia, framed by external narratives. Even then, I understood that power resided not just in the stories, but in who wielded the pen. 

For too long, the stories of African women have been dictated by external forces: the global development machine, international media, and even well-intentioned NGOs. These narratives often oscillate between portraying African women as passive victims or inspirational heroines, both of which flatten the complex realities of their lives and erase their agency. The core issue remains: African women rarely control the narrative. 

While some are actively reclaiming their voices, many others remain silenced by poverty, patriarchal structures, and narratives imposed upon them. As a communications practitioner and development professional, I recognise that storytelling is not merely about representation; it is fundamentally about power. 

Too often, these stories are reshaped to conform to external expectations, simplified into neat success stories or tragic appeals. True narrative justice necessitates that these stories are told on the storytellers' terms, reflecting the full complexity of African women's lives. This requires empathy-driven storytelling, a crucial element often overlooked in development communications. 

Development narratives frequently strip away complexity, reducing African women's lives to before-and-after snapshots. While not inherently false, these stories are incomplete, erasing the invisible negotiations, structural barriers, and daily acts of resilience that constitute real empowerment. 

Empathy-driven storytelling, distinct from the surface-level empathy found in most donor reports, comes from genuine listening. It compels us to engage with messy, unresolved stories that expose systemic inequalities and centre women's agency, even when their choices diverge from donor-friendly narratives. This approach prompts us to ask why a rural mother might distrust a new health programme, why a young entrepreneur would favour TikTok over national television, and why representation is meaningless without control over the narrative. 

Data reinforces the urgent need for this shift. According to the Global Media Monitoring Project (GMMP), women represent only 24% of the people heard or read about in African news media. A July 2022 report compiled by the Geneva-based Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU) highlights that only 26% of parliamentary seats across Africa are held by women, indicating a significant gap in political representation, which directly impacts their ability to shape policy and narratives. This lack of representation extends to digital spaces, where women's voices are often marginalised or silenced. 

Across the continent, African women are actively challenging these statistics. They are seizing control of their narratives through diverse platforms, from viral TikToks to grassroots podcasts and community media. 

Consider Valerie Keter, a Kenyan TikToker and film producer, whose videos dismantle stereotypes and expose the gaps in mainstream historical narratives. Her work demonstrates that narrative power now resides with those who control the narrative and the platform, not just those who own traditional media outlets. 

Or Brukty Tigabu, the Ethiopian founder of Whiz Kids Workshop, who recognised storytelling as a tool for education, empowerment, and cultural connection. Through culturally resonant television programmes, Whiz Kids helped millions of Ethiopian children see themselves reflected on screen. 

In Uganda, there is 101.7 MAMA FM, Africa's first women-owned community radio station, launched by the Uganda Media Women's Association (UMWA), amplifies the voices of marginalised women, reshaping public discourse. 

These women, and many others, are insisting on owning their stories, not merely appearing in someone else's version. Platforms and movements like Addis Powerhouse, Setaset Power, and the Feminist Coalition are reshaping the narrative economy, building new tables rather than seeking seats at the old ones. If development organisations, funders, and media initiatives are serious about narrative justice, they must move beyond visibility projects. They must interrogate who decides which stories matter, who defines empowerment, and who controls the platforms. 

My own journey, from Addis Ababa to London, has been shaped by these stories. I see my role not as a storyteller for African women, but as a facilitator, creating spaces where their stories can flourish without external agendas. The future of African women's empowerment lies in the stories we tell, and more importantly, in the spaces we create for every African woman to tell her own story. 

By Mekdim Hailu Legesse