Kenyan Widows’ New Fear

When Mary Magdelena Akinyi’s husband died, the custom of her Luo ethnic group dictated that she be “inherited” by one of her already married brothers-in-law.

Akinyi refused.

The 24-year-old former nursery school teacher felt the centuries-old cultural practice robs women of their dignity and independence. But what ultimately led her to reject the tradition was fear of death--either her own or that of relatives--from AIDS.

Akinyi’s 28-year-old husband had been suffering from chest pains after a car accident, but the specific cause of his death in July 1996 remains a mystery.

“We never took him for any tests,” Akinyi said. “Suppose I get inherited and he could have died of AIDS? I could give it to my new husband . . . or I could also get it from the new man.”

While Akinyi was willing to suffer the wrath and superstitious forebodings of many in the community, thousands of other Luos--men and women alike--strongly embrace the tradition. They say “widow inheritance,” in which a widow and her children become the social and financial responsibility of a male in-law, guarantees a woman protection and economic support after the death of her husband, and helps continue a family’s name.

However, health experts share Akinyi’s concern that, in a region where AIDS has devastated thousands of families, the custom could cost lives.

Nyanza province, where Akinyi lives--commonly called LuoLand--has the highest rate of AIDS and of HIV infection in Kenya, involving as many as 25% of the region’s 3.5 million people. Here in Kisumu, coffin makers who once made 35 caskets a week now get orders for up to 70.

The staggering toll is attributed to many factors, including severe poverty, a high population density and the constant movement of people due to thriving trade and migration routes.

But many sociologists contend that Luo cultural practices--widow inheritance, polygamy and an aversion to condoms--also exacerbate the spread of acquired immune deficiency syndrome and the virus that causes it.

“At the end of the day, a lot of people are suffering because of a culture that is very outdated and archaic. We have to continue to highlight [widow inheritance] as a wrong practice that has no relevance in Kenya in 1998,” said Maria Nzomo, director of the National Commission on the Status of Women and a political science professor at Nairobi University.

But the Luos, Kenya’s third-largest ethnic group, have a patriarchal society, and “it is very difficult for women to start negotiating for safe sex,” said Dollina Odera, a coordinator for an AIDS project run by the Kenya Medical Research Institute here. “For the Luo, sex is very sacred. It is looked at as something that should crown every major event in society.”

While polygamy is common among most of Kenya’s other ethnic groups, including the dominant Kikuyu community, widow inheritance is practiced primarily by the Luo and certain smaller clans among the Luhya ethnic group, Kenya’s second-largest.

A 1997 Kenyan Ministry of Health report warned that if “Kenyans don’t change their sexual behavior in order to reduce the number of new infections, up to 1 million men, women and children may die of AIDS by the year 2000.”

Advocates of widow inheritance say the AIDS scare is being used to falsely discredit the practice--which they say may even reduce the rate of HIV infection.

“If the widow was already infected, then the possibility of her having several sexual partners and spreading the disease is reduced if she has only one partner, her husband,” said Oriare Nyarwath, a tutorial fellow at the University of Nairobi’s department of philosophy who has researched the custom.

Even before the spread of AIDS on the African continent, widow inheritance was the center of controversy.

It robs women of their economic independence and their freedom to choose whether or not to remarry, many women’s groups, academics and government administrators argue.

They also condemn the practice of “cleansing” a widow by forcing her to sleep with a madman or social outcast to ward off evil spirits before her new husband enters her bed. Traditionalists say this ritual is not an authentic part of Luo custom.

Proponents of widow inheritance, which is also common in other East African patriarchal societies, argue that it is grossly misunderstood.

“The institution for the care of widows among the Luo--that’s the proper name for it,” argued Nyarwath, a Luo who has himself inherited two wives. “Calling it widow inheritance is a misrepresentation; it is a new marriage.”

A widow’s marriage to one of her husband’s close relatives is necessary for continuity of the family lineage, he said, and allows women to fulfill what he called their “sacred duty”: perpetuating life.

He said that only a married man may inherit a widow because he has already proved his manhood as the head of a household and, probably, the father of children.

Nyarwath pointed out that the husband cannot claim his new wife’s land or property, calling that “a violation of Luo culture.”

Others disagree, saying some men view widow inheritance as a means of acquiring instant wealth.

“This is commercialized wife inheritance, and there are a lot of people who depend on it for material gain,” said historian Bethwell Ogot, head of research and postgraduate studies at Maseno University in the Kisumu district. “A number of people see [widow inheritance] as a system to exploit.”

Despite the controversy over the practice, many Luo women rely on it for their survival.

When Mary Anyango Okeyo’s husband died in 1992, she was eager to follow Luo custom, and she married her brother-in-law, Daniel Richard Ochieng Oyaa. Tradition allows the woman to choose which of her late husband’s relatives to marry, but Okeyo said the couple’s decision to wed was mutual.

“Life wasn’t easy, not even with my late husband,” said Okeyo, 30, who has never held a job and was left to care for three children, now ages 10, 8 and 6. “It was not going to be easy for me to move out of the matrimonial home and find a new husband. So I took advantage of this tradition in our culture. If I had continued living on my own, I’d probably be dead right now.”

Ochieng Oyaa said he was simply doing his duty. Okeyo was the second widow inherited by Ochieng Oyaa, who has two other wives and 18 natural children. A third wife recently died.

“According to our custom, we cannot let these women go out and wander in search of a new husband or a new home,” said the 46-year-old peasant, who lives off maize, groundnuts, beans and the cattle he rears on his land. “. . . We do this to preserve [the family] name and to protect our sisters-in-law.”

Ochieng Oyaa dismisses arguments that widow inheritance is linked to the spread of AIDS. “This is just a rumor being spread to give the practice a bad name,” he said.

Margaret Akinyi Okumu said she is aware of the health risks but hopes to be inherited for the sake of her five children, the eldest of whom is 14, the youngest a year old.

“My husband was the sole breadwinner. I don’t have a job, and my children are too young to take care of themselves,” said Okumu, 36, whose husband, a handyman, died of pneumonia two months ago.

Because of the financial hardship many widows face, efforts abound to teach them to fend for themselves--and at the same time to curb the deadly spread of AIDS.

In the Kisumu district, about 60 women learn income-generating skills such as pottery, basket making, sewing and cooking at the Chiga Widows group, which was formed in 1996.

AIDS killed many of the women’s spouses, and some say they have made up their minds never to remarry. But they are still pursued by flocks of suitors offering to inherit them.

The Kenyan government has set up special committees to promote AIDS awareness and hold seminars discouraging practices that might exacerbate the spread of sexually transmitted diseases. Billboards throughout Nyanza province scream warnings that “Anyone Can Get AIDS.” Sex education in the schools is still prohibited, but government officials maintain that their efforts are paying off.

Many local religious leaders have also taken to bashing the age-old Luo custom, so much so that many women are rejecting inheritance in favor of Christianity.

“I believe in God and Jesus, and I don’t need someone else to protect me,” said Margareta Magana, a born-again Christian in her 60s who refused to be inherited after she lost her husband to a heart problem in 1982. “You might get someone to inherit you who has been all over the place, and he could infect you with [AIDS].”

“The awareness is there,” said Kiritu Wamae, commissioner for Nyanza’s Siaya district, one of the regions hit hardest by AIDS. “People are now seeing with their own eyes that members of their community are dying. The problem has been behavioral change.”

This presents a tough challenge because “for many people in rural areas, this is the only world they know,” said Ogot, the professor. “It doesn’t make sense to try and tell people to stop. They don’t know any different.”