Reading Feminine Silence, I felt those silences come alive on the page. Nthanda Manduwi captures what so many women across Africa and the world quietly endure: the weight of carrying communities while being told to take up less space, the demand to be both strong and soft, and the impossible task of navigating power without appearing “too much.”

When we talk about women’s empowerment, I think we often imagine it as a finish line. The moment when women finally get a seat at the table, step into leadership, and claim spaces once denied. But what happens after empowerment?

My mother was a force. A woman so fiery and determined that she became Africa’s first female inland marine captain, shattering barriers before I even understood that they existed. But even as she navigated spaces not built for her, she was never alone. My father was the kind of husband that society would deem “good” – a provider, a steady presence, a man who fulfilled every role expected of him. And yet, for all his goodness, my mother was not always fulfilled.

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