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Waris DirieA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Content Warning: This section of the guide contains descriptions of female genital mutilation, rape, and attempted rape.
One of Dirie’s main agendas is to draw attention to the horrors of FGM. For this reason, Dirie unflinchingly describes her own traumatic experience of FGM at only five years old. She conjures vivid imagery of the procedure, describing the “dried blood on the jagged edge of the blade,” which the woman who performed the procedure “spat on and wiped […] against her dress” (42). Dirie’s description emphasizes the unsanitary nature of the procedure and the overwhelming and horrific pain that the child Dirie is about to endure. Dirie crafts an immersive reading experience by going beyond visual details, incorporating the sounds of the procedure into her narrative. Readers are made to hear “the sound of the dull blade sawing back and forth through [Dirie’s] skin” (42). Dirie’s depiction also conveys the intense emotional pain and trauma that accompanies the procedure. She describes her legs going numb with horror, saying “the pain between them was so intense that [she] wished [she] would die” (42). Through these graphic details, Dirie conveys the excruciating pain of the procedure, which is undertaken with no anesthetic.
Dirie also makes a case for the inherent misogyny of FGM. According to Dirie, the procedure is normalized based on disgust at women’s bodies and the regulation and control of women’s sexuality. She writes, “The prevailing wisdom in Somalia is that there are bad things between a girl’s legs, parts of our bodies that we’re born with, yet are unclean” (37). FGM removes these “unclean” parts, as the shock of Dirie’s post-procedure vulva makes clear: “I discovered a patch of skin completely smooth except for a scar down the middle like a zipper” (45). Dirie further illustrates the connection between misogyny and FGM by describing an interaction with an old man, who cruelly tells Dirie and her younger sister, “Get away from me, you two unsanitary little girls […] You haven’t even been circumcised yet!” (40). This encounter further illustrates the deep-seated beliefs about the inherent uncleanness of girls and women that are used to justify the violent procedure.
According to Dirie, women are considered defiled by sex outside of marriage, and FGM is said to protect virginity. She explains, “This strategy ensured that I could never have sex until I was married, and my husband would be guaranteed he was getting a virgin” (44-45). FGM begets further violence when women do have sex, as is illustrated by Dirie’s description of the forcible penetration or cutting needed to have sex: “My genitals were sealed up like a brick wall that no man would be able to penetrate until my wedding night, when my husband would either cut me open with a knife or force his way in” (45). Though Dirie eventually receives surgery to separate her labia, negating the need for forcible penetration or cutting, she makes it clear that FGM has a permanent impact on her sexuality by effectively eliminating her ability to feel sexual pleasure. In this way, Dirie illustrates how FGM results in control over women’s sexuality, even when they are able to receive medical intervention.
Due to cultural beliefs that characterize the procedure as a transition from the “unclean” state of girlhood into “clean” womanhood, Dirie explains that girls are eager for the procedure, waiting for it with anticipation and even excitement. She writes, “They eagerly away their ‘special time’ […] that will mark their transformation from being a little girl to becoming a woman” (38). This excitement is also perpetuated by the intentional silence around the excruciating pain of the procedure, as illustrated by Dirie’s procedure being conducted away from the camp in the early morning. She writes, “Now I know the reason they take the girls so early in the morning. They want to cut them before anybody wakes up, so nobody else will hear them scream” (41). The silence surrounding FGM is echoed by the community’s silence around the girls who die from FGM, including Dirie’s sister Halemo. Mothers and older sisters are complicit in the silence around the incredible pain of the procedure. According to Dirie, older women remain silent because no man will consider marriage to a woman who hasn’t undergone FGM, and marriage is considered a necessity for female survival. Dirie’s discussion of FGM suggests that the silence that surrounds the procedure is in large part responsible for its continued perpetuation. Her memoir stands against this silence by highlighting the pain and trauma of the procedure in graphic, unsparing detail.
Dirie’s memoir is a celebration of her resilience and determination. Her resilience in enduring hardship and determination to better her circumstances transform her from a nomad with few rights or opportunities to an internationally celebrated model and activist. Dirie’s physical resilience is first characterized in her childhood. She endures long days of work as a very young child, walking for miles through the desert with herds of goats and camels, sustained most days on only camel’s milk. Sometimes, she is sent to find water, and she walks for days through the desert, knowing that coming back empty-handed is not an option. Later, when she escapes from an arranged marriage at 13 years old, Dirie must again walk for days through stretches of desert without food or water, even encountering a lion. In the challenging desert environment, Dirie learns that physical resilience is the only option for survival.
Throughout the memoir, Dirie encounters predatory men who force her to demonstrate mental as well as physical resilience. Dirie experiences a horrific and unacknowledged act of rape by a family friend as a very young child. She must then fight off numerous other attackers when she escapes from her family, including a man who tries to rape her in a truck bed. Dirie develops a wariness of men, yet she perseveres and is not broken by these harrowing experiences, even falling in love and having children as an adult.
Dirie also demonstrates her resilience through her adaptability to new environments. Dirie must acclimate to completely different ways of living when she moves to the city with Aman, Aunt L’uul, and Aunt Sahru. Despite having never been inside a house before, she learns how to clean, haggle at the markets, care for children, and cook. Dirie’s adaptability and determination to improve her life are illustrated when the opportunity to move to London with Uncle Mohammad arises. In this moment, Dirie characterizes herself as a “strong-willed kid;” she bursts into the room to plead her case: “I’m excellent. I can clean, I can cook— and I’m good with children, too!” (78). Dirie sees the move to London as the key to improving her life, and with a keen sense of determination, she demands to go.
As Dirie grows, her determination becomes inextricable from her sense of agency. She foils her uncle and aunt’s decision to take her back to Somalia with them after their four-year stint in London by burying her passport. With the same adaptability that she demonstrated in Mogadishu, Dirie learns a new language, forms a community of friends, and manages to secure work and accommodation despite having no connections when her uncle and aunt initially leave. Her marriages to Mr. O’Sullivan and Nigel, as well as her theft of Marilyn’s fraudulent passport, further characterize her determination, as these are means to an end that allow her to continue her modeling career. Dirie’s determination and resilience are crucial elements of her ability to shape her path in the world.
Through her life story, Dirie offers a critique of Western life as viewed through an African perspective. Despite the discomfort and trauma she experienced in Somalia, Dirie is proud of her African heritage, and she believes that a simple life leads to greater contentment. She is grateful for the formative influence that her African values played in her childhood. In particular, she believes that a nomadic existence fosters a connectedness with nature that brings joy: “[T]he nomad’s life is a harsh one, but it is also full of beauty—a life so connected to nature that the two are inseparable” (35). She describes the “pure joy at being a child in the wilderness” (17), watching animals, traveling landscapes, and playing in trees with her siblings. The deep-rooted nature of this peace and joy is reflected when she gives birth and expresses her desire to hang from a tree, as well as her decision to name her son after a lion. In this pivotal life moment, Dirie draws on her experiences in Africa, which hold greater truth for her.
She also believes that having little fosters gratitude. A dinner of camel’s milk after an exhausting day brought joy to her family and fostered connectedness: “Those evenings are my [favorite] memories of Somalia: sitting around with my mother and father, sisters and brothers when everybody was full, everybody was laughing” (17). In the drought-afflicted deserts of Somalia, rain brings “true rejoicing” (36). Dirie has joyful memories of the celebrations that ensued after rainstorms: dancing in the rain and feasting “like kings” “to praise the gift of life” (36). Dirie contrasts this joy with the dissatisfaction of those in the Western world. From Dirie’s perspective, America is a place of plentiful wealth and opportunity, yet Americans are constantly “worrying about all kinds of pointless little irritations” (223). Dirie contrasts these worrying individuals to the determined positivity of the Somali nomads praying for rain, without which their herds of animals—their livelihood—would die. She argues that even though “[t]he United States is the wealthiest country in the world […] everyone feels poor” (223). Dirie points out that in the Western world, people pursue success but are not good at recognizing the success they already have—plentiful food and water, a peaceful country, and friends and family.
Dirie connects this dissatisfaction with the incessant rush that she feels rules Western lives. She is grateful for her African heritage, which she believes has taught her to enjoy the simple pleasure of allowing a day to unfold without rush or pressure. She writes, “Without growing up in Africa, I don’t know if I would have learned to enjoy life the simple way” (223). Daily schedules for Somali nomads, Dirie explains, are task-focused rather than strictly time-focused: “When we got up in the morning, we decided what we’d do that day, then did that task the best we could until we finished or the sky grew too dark for us to see” (25). Dirie contrasts this “very slow,” “very calm” way of living with the packed schedules of people in London or New York. She writes, “I felt like everyone was rushing everywhere, every action was timed” (25). Dirie suggests that cramming one's days with appointments and engagements is antithetical to living in a calm, relaxed, and happy way; her insistence on not wearing a watch illustrates her loyalty to the unstructured nature of her childhood days in Somalia.