Reading list: #Chapter212, #RUReferencelist & #RhodesWar

– A (developing) list* of news articles, commentaries, videos, interviews, testimonies etc about anti-rape protests at Rhodes University (uckar/uskar) since 2016.

TW: sexual violence/rape culture


– Gorata Chengeta, 2015
Where leaders learn what, exactly? – Grace Moyo, 2015

#Chapter 2.12

Chapter 2.12 Rhodes Facebook Page
Chapter 2.12: the campaign against rape culture – Mishka Wazar, Activate, April 2016
#Chapter212 on Twitter

#RUReferenceList & #RhodesWar

RUReferenceList Movement Facebook Page
#RUReferenceList on Twitter
#RUReferenceList Edition– Oppidan Press student newspaper, May 2016
[Photo Gallery] – Oppidan Press, April 2016
General coverage – Oppidan Press, 2016 – present
#RUReferenceList: A violent response to a violent act – Pontsho Pilane, Mail and Guardian, April 2016
‘Campus rape plans favour perpetrators’ – Pontsho Pilane, Mail and Guardian, April 2016
Rhodes has a rape problem: Why? – Daily Vox team, April 2016
#NakedProtest – IOL, April 2016
Violence, nakedness and the discourse of #RUReferenceList – Chelsea Haith, The Journalist, April 2016
5 arrested in Rhodes University anti-rape protest – News24, April 2016
Footage from #RUReferenceList Protests (Youtube Playlist) – Activate, April 2016
Disrupt – Activate & #Chapter212, May 2016
A response to Charlene Smith’s #RUReferenceList Facebook post – Fiona Snyckers, M&G ThoughtLeader, April 2016
Desperate times, desperate measures – Marianne Thamm, Daily Maverick, April 2016
‘We will not be Silenced’: Rape Culture, #RUReferencelist, and the University Currently Known as Rhodes – Deborah Seddon, Daily Maverick, June 2016
#FeesMustFall: The Threat of the Penis and the Gun in South Africa’s Revolutionary Spaces – Kagure Mugo, Okayafrica, June 2016
Disruption of Gender Based Violence Discussion – Chloe Osmond, Activate, August 2016
Ndakunik’ Amabele: African Women. Un/dressed – Wairimu Muriithi, Concerning Nuditude (pg 96 – 120), 2016
RUReferenceList2 (2017 protests) – Oppidan Press, March 2017
Challenging the culture of rape at Rhodes – Gorata Chengeta, Mail & Guardian, April 2017
#RhodesWar on Twitter
Everything You Need to About the #RhodesWar Round Table – Busang Senne, Cosmopolitan, December 2017
[Video Playlist] #RhodesWar Press conference w/ Yolanda Dyantyi & SERI – December 2017
Rhodes War: Concerned Academics Speak Out –  Huffington post, December 2017
Rhodes Alumni: Expulsion Of Student Activists ‘Draconian’ – Huffington post, December 2017
Dangerous narratives: How Rhodes’ response to rape culture harms sexual assault victims – Zodwa Jane, HOLAA, December 2017
#RhodesWar: Makunyiwe Macala (A redacted archive)- Redacted, The New Inquiry, February 2018
#RhodesWar: Women need to reclaim their bodies (Interview w/Yolanda Dyanty) – 
Historic Record Shows Universities Like Rhodes Failed Female Students – Sarita Ranchod, Huffington post, April 2018
#RUReferenceList And The Fight Against Rape Culture Still Wages On – Siya Nyulu, Daily Vox, April 2018
Graduating from varsity after #FeesMustFall is a bittersweet experience – Aphiwe Ngalo, Daily Maverick, April 2018
[Essay] Why has Rhodes University silenced student activism? – Mako Muzenda, June 2018
[Interview w/ PowerFM]Why Has Rhodes University silenced Student Activism – Mako Muzenda , June 2018
#RUReferenceList: The fear of repercussions still lingers – Gorata Chengeta, Mail & Guardian, July 2018
 South African women use social media to fight against violence – Al Jazeera, August 2018
Rhodes rages after suicide – Sarah Smit, Mail & Guardian, August 2018
Rape on Campus leads to a tragic death – 702 interview with Nomandla & Rhodes Communications Officer
Rhodes must stop treating rapists like victims   – Philip Machanick, Mail & Guardian, 13 August 2018
It starts with ‘games’ and ends as rape at Rhodes –  PAugust 2018
We need a multi-pronged approach in order to shift rape culture’  – Corinne Knowles, Rhodes University staff member, 
‘My future career has been taken away’ – anti-rape activist expelled from Rhodes 


#iamoneinthree: A call to stand with #RUReferenceList against rape culture – Wits FMF Feminists Solidarity Statement, April 2016
#Iamoneinthree Protest


UCT Survivors 
#UCTSpeaksBack on Twitter



*This is not an objective archive of events (nor is it my intention to create one).
**Featured image: OkayAfrica

If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it. – Zora Neale Hurston



Nothing is truly post-.
I sit on the edge of that hyphen, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar path before me.
The hyphen signifies a transcendence. But, simultaneously, it marries us to what we seek to escape. It connects post, to colony, to apartheid, to racial.
The hyphen is the entry point to the archives marked on our bodies. It is commemoration.
Hyphens do the work of giving coherence, I’m told.
Sitting in the middle of post-colony or post-apartheid, I’m wedged between many existences.


I can’t tell if these hyphens are cutting me up or holding me together.
(June 2016)

(re-)view: feeling and ugly by danai mupotsa

The other day, a friend posted a picture of her copy of feeling and ugly on Instagram, with the caption “Companion”. I thought it was uncanny that hours earlier, I had thought about posting a picture of my copy with the exact same caption.


feeling and ugly is the first poetry book I have ever owned. I keep it by my bed, just in case. I don’t know what the emergency will be but I want to be prepared.


Whilst I think about what this collection means to me, there’s an image in my head of a white blonde child clutching a teddy bear. The invisible parent in the scene lets the child take the teddy bear everywhere. Without it, the child feels destabilized; cries violently. It feels like an image I’ve seen in a movie or something.

I do not think of or see myself as this child. I don’t remember having such a relation to any of my toys when I was young. But I can relate to the image, because finally, I have something that I can hold (onto) when being in the world makes me want to cry. A soft anchor. A companion.

It’s disappointingly easy for me to conjure up an image of a vulnerable white child.  I’ve consumed so much media where white people of every age get to be emotionally complex. I grew up without getting to see myself reflected like this, despite the ocean of feelings within me. It was as if we couldn’t be spared this luxury, despite the fact that what black girls feel and think and know could flood a small universe.

In this light, feeling and ugly reveals a depth of emotion that is not usually afforded to us. It gently pushes me towards me but also helps me articulate a “we”. Reading it, I can recognize what is shared without needing it to look the same in each of us.


Danai writes about love in its different forms: sees it through its difficulty. Like her,

I want to dream of love that is tempestuous

– (p. 61)


Danai also writes about sex. About pleasure and shamelessness. About wanting to climb people. This is very important political work.


There are poems in this collection which are difficult to read, uncomfortable in that they know too much. They are not judging you, but they’ve seen what you have spent your life hiding (from). Not only have they seen it, but they have seen just how much of it there is. To be so exposed in your shame feels like each of your pores is a blister.

Maybe if you just sit with the poems and with the shame – focus less on concealing – you can catch your breath.



together like this

fills me to pieces

– (p. 56)




feeling and ugly is published by impepho press and available at African Flavour Books.

On Submission: Reflections about my Master’s research & my mixed feelings about the academy

Much to my own surprise, the day after I submitted my Master’s research paper, I woke up with a lot to say. Here goes:

My research report is titled An exploration of Black women students’ sexual experiences. This is (I think) a very misleading title, based on what I thought my research was about 8 months ago (and what I came up with, while in a rush to hand in my proposal).

At the same time, it’s also hard to say what would have been a more fitting name, because my research paper is about a lot of things. My research paper is about the gravity of emotion in our intimate lives. About how “consent” doesn’t always fully capture what takes place in private. About how we experience complicated feelings sometimes. About things that aren’t black and white. It’s also about how we know things. About how sometimes we know something with our body and we can’t necessarily express it in words. About how that kind of knowledge is just as important as the knowledge we can express verbally.

My research paper is this academic thing where I talk about theories on sexual violence and sex and gender and and and. And just like the title doesn’t capture the essence of the paper, the paper doesn’t capture the essence of the interviews I did.

I interviewed 8 women about their life experiences. We talked about sex, sexual violence, being Black, girlhood, womanhood, confusing things, love, dating, insecurity, heartbreak, sexiness, the pressure to play netball, crushing, clubbing and other stuff like that. In every interview, there was a moment where I thought: “Woaah, you felt that way in childhood/high school/your first relationship? I felt the exact same way.”

I wished we could have more of these types of conversations. Maybe we’d feel less alone.

The interviews were rich in a way I’ll never be able to represent in an academic paper. On one hand, it’s a little frustrating that what I write about in the ‘Results’ section is just the tip of the iceberg. Frustrating because I like sharing knowledge. It’s what makes things like tutoring, lecturing, tweeting, blogging, journalism, etc meaningful for me.

On the other hand, I’m glad that there are things I will never be able to give to the academy. The academy doesn’t love us and it doesn’t deserve the life-saving knowledge we’re sharing. To be a Black person and a woman in the academy is to basically be in an exploitative relationship. It’s to be expected to give receipts for your brilliance all the time, translated and peppered with jargon, and then, when you ask to be treated like a person, issa no. You get painted as ungrateful, as disruptive, as a problem. You get painted with that same paint that washed away the stories of your ancestors.

A black woman in the academy is a fierce lil human library but somehow, it feels like we’re being done some kind of favour for being allowed in. The academy wants our amazing ideas but doesn’t want to acknowledge that it hurt to arrive at that knowledge. Our pain becomes an inconvenience. “Valid knowledge” is defined as that which is communicated through words and numbers in research papers; leaving no room for that which we express in our “first” languages, in tears or struggle songs. I digress… but basically, I’m just happy the academy doesn’t get to keep all our stuff. Not the time of #Fallism and #RhodesWar.

Degree-holder status is given a lot of value in our society. The impression is that those of us with degrees worked hard, that we’re smart and that our ideas have the potential to change the world. While all of this is technically true, it’s not only true for us. Having a degree is not a simple result of work + intelligence. It more likely means that you were lucky to:

  • survive a basic education system where the majority of the country’s youth were shortchanged
  • have had enough funding somehow to apply, pay an acceptance fee and register (whether paid for upfront or acquired through a bank/nsfas loan)
  • have had enough (financial & other) resources to manage any mental illness or physical disability you have (likely with great difficulty) long enough to complete your courses.

There are lots of people who cannot jump over these hurdles, at no fault of their own.

I struggle with the way a lot of people’s knowledge and labour are dismissed because of the value we place on tertiary education. I think of my aunt who was not afforded a high school education, despite her yearning for it. She is one of the best teachers of kindness and generosity I know (summa cum laude levels). The knowledge she’s given me is the backbone of any knowledge I’ve produced. And unlike the schooling system, she always taught me I was valuable – I never had to jump through hoops for her to recognize that. She takes sentience seriously and responds to it with live-giving sensitivity. Trust me when I say, your alma mater could never. The academy does not have that kind of r.a.n.g.e.

I fundamentally don’t believe in universities. Academic institutions have broken my heart into pieces (see: #RhodesWar). I tread anxiously in their big, concrete buildings:  trying not to get too attached. I still have heart though because of those who never reduced me to just my mind. I still have heart because in crevices of libraries, people who share this kind of sensitivity have left me lifelines. Focusing on my work on intersectional & feminist theory has been like a treasure hunt: the treasure being the solace of finding bits of yourself that were stolen before you could even blink. It doesn’t take away the pain of being dispossessed, but still.

I don’t know how much longer I will stick to academic pursuits, but for as long as I do, what will nourish me is the network of people who are using the academy to reclaim our stuff. Kunzima mara sisonke.

Let me end off with an excerpt from the Acknowledgements page of my research report:

My intentions with this research report are closely connected to the greater feminist, womanist, queer, blackity-black legacy of activism/life-giving that has brought me here. I am indebted to all the people who have struggled for my breath and who have ensured the survival of the knowledges that have saved my life. I give thanks to all of you: my ancestors, my grandmothers, the One in Nine campaigners, the Fallists, the reference-list-ers, the healers, the journalists, scientists, teachers, tweeters, etc; basically all the people who are my people, despite (constructed) time and distance separations.

With love,


Re apara se re se batang

Senepe ka Thalefang Charles, Mmegi


Ngwaga oo fetiling, go ne ga nna le tiragalo ya kgokgontsho ko mapalamelong a dibese mo Gaborone. Mosadi mongwe o ne a rogwa, godimo ga moo, a apolwa fa gare ga batho, ke banna bangwe ka ntata ya gore ba ne ba akanya gore gaa apara ‘sentle’. Mogwanto wa I Wear What I Want (Re apara se re se batang) o ne wa simollwa ke bomme bangwe, go lwantsha ditiragalo tsa kgogontsho ya basadi mo sechabeng sa rona.

Mo mogwantong wa I wear what I want, ko Gaborone, basadi ba ne ba tla ka dipalo, ba apere jaaka ba batla, go tsamaelana le molaetsa wa mogwanto o. Fa dinepe tsa mogwanto o di pegwa mo Facebook, di ne tsa tlogela bangwe ba sa itumela tota. Mo pegong e, ke tla tlhalosa mabaka a batho ba, a go sa itumela, le go tlhalosa mabaka a me, le a balwela dishwanelo tsa basadi ka nna, a go tswelela go apara se re se batang.

A ruri boleng jwa mosadi bo bonwa ka kapari?

Kgang ya ntlha e ne go buisangwa ka yone mo Facebook ke gore mosadi o tshwanetse go apara sentle gore a tlotliwe. Mo dipuisanong tse, go ne go na le bangwe ba ba dumelang gore mosadi (wa nnete) ke mongwe yoo ikapesang ka mokgwa oo rileng; gore fa o apere bokhutswane bo bo riling, ga o sa thole o le mosadi sentle.  Go ne gotwe ba ba neng ba apere bokhutshwane jo be feteletseng ko mogwantong o, ga se basadi ba itlhaloganyang, godimo ga moo go twe go supa dikarolo tse di riling tsa mmele (dirope, marago), go diga boleng jwa gago.

Tumelo e ya gore boleng le bontle jwa motho mosadi bo bonwa mo diaparong tsa gagwe e supa tsholofelo mo basading, gore re tshele matshelo a rona otlhe re akantse gore ba batho ba tla re akanyetsa jang.  Jaaka mme mongwe ko mogwantong a buile, kgang e ya gore ga re apara e bo re akantse gore batho baa gore akanyetsa jang, ga se kgang ee siameng. Fa e le gore sechaba sa rona se a go tlotla ditshwanelo tsa basadi, go tlhokega gore basadi re letelelwe go apara se re se batang, le fa go sa ratwe kapari e re itlhophetseng.

A diaparo tsa basadi di baka dipetelelo?

Ditiragalo tsa petelelo le kgokgontsho ya basadi mo mafatsheng ka bophara di tswelela go oketsega ka palo ee sa letelesegeng . Mo Facebook, bangwe be rile go apara bokhutshwane (ga basadi) go diphatsa ka go ka gogomosa banna kana go ba rokotsa mathe.  Go na le ba ba dumelang gore fa re batla go emisa kgokgontsho, re tshwanetse go dira melao ee laolang kapari ya bo mme, ka go akangwa gore go laolela basadi kapari go ka thusa go emisa dipetelelo .

Mathata a leng teng fa, ke tumelo ee reng kapari ya basadi e baka kgokgontsho.  Se ga se boammaruri. Le fa e ka bo e le nnete, go rokotswa mathe ga go lete motho monna go kgokgontsha kana go betelela mosadi. Go thoka fela gore banna ba itshware sentle, ka gore kapari ya motho ga e ka ke ya beelwa molato wa ditiro tsa batho banna. Go dumela gore kapari ee riling e ka emisa dipetelelo, ke go baa molato wa ditiragalo tsa petelelo mo basading. Go bothokwa gore mo dipuisanong tsa rona ka kgokgontsho le dipetelelo mo basading, re gakologelwe gore ka nako tsothle, mo ditiragalong tse, molato ga se wa basadi.

Mosadi sidirisiwa

Dipuisano tse di supa fa mosadi a sa tlotliwe, e le sidirisiwa. Mongwe o ne a tshwantshanya kgang e ya kapari ya basadi, le kgang ya burukuthi, a botsa gore ke eng batho ba na le mabotana go kata matlo a bone. Molaetsa yoo fithilweng fa, ke gore basadi ba tshwaneletswe ke go apara ba fithile mmele, e seng jalo, ba laletsa kotsi kana kgokgontsho. Se se supa tumelo e e reng basadi ba ba sa apareng sentle ke bone fela ba ba kgokgontshiwang.

Mathata aa leng teng fa, ke gore batho basadi (le bana, le banna bangwe) ba kgokgontshiwa ba apere ka go farologana. Ga gona diaparo tse re ka reng di ka laletsa kgokgontsho. Se se bakang kgokgontsho ya basadi, ke batho ba ba palelwang ke go itaola le go itshwara sentle, ba ba ipaang godimo ga basadi, ba ba sa tlotleng basadi.  Batho ba ba kgokgontshang le ba ba thubetsang ba dira jalo ka gore ba bona basadi e le didirisiwa, e seng batho.

Fa e le gore, ruri, re dumela gore kgokgontso le petelelo ke ditiragalo tse di maswe, re tshwanetse go tshwara tumelo eo ka nako tsothle, e seng gore re e latllhe ka di nako tse dingwe. Fa re batla go emisa ditiragalo tsa kgokgontsho le dipetelelo, re tshwanetse gore re emise mekgwa ya go tshwaya phoso mo basading. Go lwantsha ditiragalo tsa kgokgontsho mo Botswana, re tshwanetse go lwantsha kgokgontsho ya basadi botlhe, re sa ba farologanye ka kapari ya bone kana ka boitshwaro jwa bone. Re tshwanetse go tlotla mosadi mongwe le mongwe go tshwana, aa ke mma moruti kana ke mogwebi ka mmele. Re tshwanetse go tlotla basadi ka gore ke batho, re emise go ba tsaa jaaka didirisiwa.

A ruri sechaba se wela tlase ga re apara se re se batang?

Mo dipuisanong tse ke di boneng mo Facebook, go ne go na le ba ba akanyang gore molaetsa wa mogwanto wa #iwearwhatiwant, o tla isa lefatshe tlase. Bangwe ba ne ba supa gore fa basadi ba ka tswelela go apera jaaka ba ne ba direle ko mogwantong, go supa gore “lefatshe le a hela”. Ba bangwe ba ne ba re molaetsa oo, o diphatsa, ka gore fa o ka utliwa ke banana mo dikolong, “tlhakanelo dikobo ya bana” e ka ya magoletsa. (Mmua lebe, le fa a boditswe, o paletswe go tlhalosa gore kapari ya basadi e amana jang le tlhakanelo dikobo ya bana).

Tota ga kea dumalana le molaetsa o, oo reng kapari ya basadi e ka wetsa sechaba tlase. Tiragalo e diragetseng ko mapalamelong a dibese, jaaka go setse go builwe, ke sekai sa gore basadi ga ba tlotliwe mo sechabeng sa rona.  Se ke sengwe se se tshwenyang. Mo go nna, fa go na le sesupi sa gore re mo diphatseng re le sechaba, ke kgang ya gore mosetsana o ne a apolwa ke banna fa gare ga batho: banna ba teng ba sa tshabe sepe, ba sa tlhabiwe ke ditlhong, ba kgokgontsha ngwana wa batho hela ba sa mo itse.  Mo go nna, se se ka re emisang go tlhabologa – go nna sechaba se se nang le boikarabelo ke ga re ka palelwa ke go reetsa le go amogela melaetsa wa #IwearwhatIwant: mo go tla bo go raya gore re paletswe go tlhaloganya gore tsotlhe ditiragalo tsa kgokgontso ya bomme di busetsa sechaba sa rona ko morago.



*I’d like to thank Pontsho Pilane and Lorato Palesa Modongo for writing the setswana-feminist dictionary which inspired me to write this piece and to write, for the first time in many years, ka setswana.

** I am well aware that golo fa, ke kwadile ka setswana se se robegileng. I really tried, like, ke lekile ka bojotlhe jwa me, ne? but like I said, I haven’t written in setswana in years (and even then, I struggled because my school really didn’t prioritize my setswana education (a story for another day)). Anyway, I’m not as practiced as I’d like to be and my sense of sentence/word construction is in the struggle. I therefore invite anyone who wants to to suggest edits and corrections to this piece to do so. I would really appreciate it.


Lisolethu Dlova

Liso wrote me a love letter. I’m writing one back.

Dear Lisolethu,
Thank you for your patience with me. Thank you for your openness with me. Thank you for your sharp mind, which amazes me on the regular. My favourite thing about you is that you’re courageous in so many different ways. You have an incredible strength and it’s a beautiful thing to witness: how you love yourself so deliberately, while hitting back against a world which is insistent on defining and limiting you. It’s beautiful how you make things shake. I’m really grateful for your friendship and your work.
Love you too,

Gorata’s Feminist Theory Curriculum

I had to design a 6 week Feminist Theory curriculum as part of an exam recently. Here it is. (At some point, I’d like to create more links to the material that isn’t accessible for people outside the academy, so this is a working document for now) 

Southern Feminist Theory Curriculum


Gqola, P., 2015. Violent Masculinities and War Talk. In: Gqola,P, ed. Rape: A South African Nightmare. 1 ed. Johannesburg: MF Books.

Magadla, S., 2017. Matrofocality and shared motherhood. 

Available at:

Oyewumi, O., 1997. Visualizing the body. In: O. Oyewumi, ed. The invention of women: making an African Sense of western gender discourses. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, pp. 1-30.

Vaid-Menon, A., 2015. The Pain & Empowerment of Choosing Your Own Gender: Alok Vaid-Menon.

Available at:


Crenshaw, K. W., 2008. Mapping the margins: intersectionality, identity politics and violence against women of colour. In: A. Bailey & C. Cuomo, eds. The Feminist Philosophy Reader. New York: McGraw-Hill, pp. 279-309.

Collison, C., 2016. #FeesMustFall ‘burns’ queer students. 

Available at:

Dlakavu, S., 2017. On the EFF and gender.                                                        

Available at:

Sanchez, G., 2015. Queering Disability – on the power of celebrating intersectionality. [Online]

Available at:


Ahmed, S., 2000. Whose counting?. Feminist Theory, 1(1), pp. 97-103.

Berlant, L., 1999. The Subject of True Feeling: Pain, privacy and politics. In: A. Sarat & T. Kearns, eds. Cultural Pluralism, Identity Politics and the Law. Michigan: University of Michigan, pp. 48-84.

Kelley, R., 2016. Black Study, Black Struggle. 

Available at:

Puar, J., 2007. Queer Times, Queer Assemblages . In: J. Puar, ed. Terrorist Assemblages: Homonationalism in Queer Times. Durham: Duke University Press, pp. 203-222.


Bongela, M., 2016. Where is the white feminism movement in SA?. 

Available at:

Eng, D. & Lan, S., 2000. A Dialogue on Radical Melancholia. Psychoanalytic Dialogues, 10(4), pp. 667-700.

Modongo, L. P., 2015. Don’t you want to be white?. 

Available at:

Putuma, K., 2016. Water (Poem in Collective Amnesia). 

Available at:

Fick, A., 2017. Am I an African? On xenophobia and violence in South Africa 2017. 

Available at:

Class, Land, Labour

Amandla!, 2017. Amandla! interviews campaign Reclaim The City. 

Available at:

Asijiki: Coalition to decriminalize sex work in South Africa, 2015. Sex work and Feminism. [Online]

Available at:

Benya, A., 2015. The invisible hands: women in Marikana. Review of African Political Economy, 42(146), pp. 545-560.

Available at:

Keeanga-Yamahtta, T., 2016. Chapter 7. In: T. Keeanga-Yamahtta & M. Ellis, eds. From #BlackLiveMatter to Black Liberation. Chicago: Haymarket Books, pp. 191-219.

Tsikata, D., 2009. Gender, Land and Labour Relations and livelihood in Sub-Saharan Africa in the era of Economic Liberalisation. Feminist Africa, 12(1), pp. 11-30.


Dosekun, S., 2015. For Western Girls Only? Post-feminism as transnational culture. Feminist Media Studies , 15(6), pp. 960-975.

Motsemme, N., 2007. Loving in a time of hopelessness: on township women’s subjectivities in a time of HIV/Aird. African Idenities, 5(1), pp. 61-87.

Mahmood, S., 2011. The Subject of Freedom. In: S. Mahmood, ed. Politics of Piety. Princeton: Princeton, pp. 1-39.

Nyanzi, S., 2013. Unpacking the Governmentality of African Sexualities. In: S. Tamale, ed. African Sexualities: A reader. Cape Town: Pambazuka Press, pp. 477-501.

Zakaria, R., 2015. Sex and the Muslim Feminist. [Online]

Available at: