When Cultural Relativism Falls Short

If you are traveling from Hlotse to Thaba Tseka the Basotho will tell you that the direction is up. Often, more than North and South, up and down are used to indicate direction.  The same language is used for emotions. “How was your day ‘Me (mother)?” I ask. “Oh, Ausi (sister), it was up and down,” ‘Me responds.

At 10,000 feet, up is certainly a fitting description for Thaba Tseka.  

Thaba Tseka's beautiful mountains

There is a main paved road that runs through Thaba Tseka, which is referred to as “Town.” It has a smattering of small shops selling beets, potatoes, carrots, meat, and cheap clothing.

My first week in Thaba Tseka I was walking up to Town in search of canned peaches. (Peaches grow up here in the summer and I had heard you can sometimes buy canned peaches in the winter). As I was walking, three school girls approached me.  I saw them whisper amongst themselves and then one timidly said, "Lumela Ausi (hello sister).”

“Lumelang bo-ausi (hello sisters), ” I smile. 

“Can you help us with our English?” the girls ask.

“Of course,” I say.

So they pull out their novels for English class and show me the chapter assigned for homework. We sit down at the side of the road and begin to read together. After each paragraph we stop and review what is happening in the story and which English words are difficult.

While the story takes place in South Africa, it is quite fitting. It’s about a young girl who becomes pregnant and goes to see a witch doctor with her friend.

“What do you think of witch doctors?” the girls ask, looking at me expectantly.

I take a deep breath. I have had this question before—last time I avoided it. Witch doctors or traditional healers are a cultural norm here. If there’s anything my IDS & Global Studies degrees taught me it was to be careful of imposing my own western norms and values on other cultures.  The last thing I want to do is “westernize” these girls. Basotho culture has so many beautiful elements. I love the traditional clothing, the dancing, and the way everyone is referred to as “sister,” “brother,”  “mother” or “father.”

“How old are you girls?” I ask.

“Fifteen,” they respond.

I realize just how important this question is. There are high rates of teenage pregnancy here, and it is not uncommon for young girls to go to the witch doctor for an abortion.* After all, the stakes are high. Pregnant girls are expelled from school. The girls are shamed, while a blind eye is turned to the boys.  Consequently, young girls often feel that a witch doctor is the only place they can go for help. (There are no “medical” abortions in Lesotho—it’s illegal).

I take another deep breath, and decide to simply speak what’s on my heart.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for the girl in the story to go to a witch doctor because she is putting her health and even her own life at risk.  If this girl was in Lesotho, she could go to the witch doctor and come back infected with HIV.** I wouldn’t want any young girl to risk her life like that,” I finally say.

The girls are quiet. I’m not sure what they think of what I’ve told them. We turn back to the story and end up talking about choices and how even though we might not always chose our circumstances, we can choose how we respond to them.

The three beautiful fifteen-year-olds thank me and walk away.

I slowly walk back to my hut, praying for those three beautiful girls and hoping with all my heart that they are not the girl in the story we read together.

When I get home I realize I never did find those canned peaches.

*It is important to note that some traditional healers argue that the witch doctors who perform illegal abortions are frauds. These traditional healers believe in herbal remedies and extracts that have been passed down through tradition and do not condone illegal practices. There have been cases of successful collaboration between traditional healers and medical doctors in South Africa.

**Some Traditional Healers/Witch Doctors practice “cutting.” They make small cuts on the skin with a razor blade and then apply plant extracts or powders. When these razor blades are reused HIV can be transmitted.  This is particularly problematic in Lesotho where about 1/4^th of the population is HIV positive.

 I would like to further note that the purpose of this post is NOT to devalue the role that traditional healers can play in society.  Not all traditional healers are the same and practices can vary. However, I do want to highlight that the practices of some witch doctors/ traditional healers can be harmful and it is important to both acknowledge and speak frankly about this reality.