On 10 August 2025, news of the death of a one-month-old baby girl, who was the victim of female genital mutilation (FGM), has sparked widespread outrage in The Gambia and across the world, and reignited the campaign against FGM.
After the baby developed severe bleeding, she was rushed to a hospital, but was pronounced dead on arrival. The bleeding and consequent death has been linked to FGM, which is outlawed in The Gambia.
The burning question many are asking is: why? Why did they think it’s necessary to perform FGM on a newborn baby, or at all, on anyone, especially when it’s outlawed?
The answer: It is culture. It is tradition. It is custom. And it is society.
FGM or female circumcision is the deliberate cutting or removal of a female’s external genitalia. It is widespread cultural practice in Africa for various reasons: social acceptance, religious beliefs, misconceptions about hygiene, a means of preserving a girl or woman’s virginity, making her “marriageable”, and enhancing male sexual pleasure.
In recent years, many African countries have criminalised FGM – at least 24 of 54. However, enforcement remains a significant challenge in many countries. Laws alone are not enough. Implementation, public awareness and community education are equally important. Anti-FGM campaigns such as Frontline Ending FGM are actively working on educating and raising awareness in communities across Africa about the dangers of FGM, with the aim of ending the harmful practice.
Sudan was one of the first countries in Africa to outlaw the most severe form of FGM, infibulation, in 1946. However, enforcement proved weak and less severe forms were still permitted. Nationwide criminalisation of FGM did not come into effect until 2020 when amendments to the Criminal Code explicitly criminalised FGM, making it punishable by fines and up to three years in prison.
However, the practice is still widespread across Sudan, especially in rural areas. According to UNICEF, 87% of women and girls, aged 15-49, have undergone some form of FGM – often the most severe form. Circumcision, whether male or female, is known as tuhoor or khitan in Sudan, which in refers to a state of purity. In the Muslim-majority country, male circumcision is widely accepted and practiced. Although debated, it is generally believed to be an obligation in Islam (similarly to Christianity and Judaism), particularly based on interpretations of the Sunnah, which consider circumcision cleaner and healthier in terms of urination and intercourse, and as a means of preventing infection.
In 2017, German DW journalist and presenter Jaafar Abdul Karim traveled to Sudan to cover sensitive and controversial topics such as female circumcision and sexual harassment in Sudan. In one of his reports, he conducted street interviews to capture the public’s views on female circumcision in Sudan. One report shows him interviewing a middle-aged Sudanese woman about whether she would accept undergoing female circumcision herself, or allow her sister or daughters to undergo it.
She said, “Yes.”
He said, “You’re for female circumcision?”
She said, “Yes.”
When he asked why, she said, “This is our custom and tradition!”
Eyes and mouth wide open, he was utterly shocked, unable to understand her reasoning.
She asked, “Are you shocked?”
He said, “I’m shocked [by your answer] because a woman goes through a lot of pain.”
“It’s not a problem. We were raised with customs and traditions we won’t give up. Personally, if I have daughters, I will have them circumcised too. This is our custom and tradition!” she said.
Soon after, the clip became one of the most viral videos from Sudan, drawing in various comments from around the world. On Facebook alone, it was shared over 623,000 times. It was rumoured that the woman could not go out in public without being recognised or criticised. Most people, Sudanese and non-Sudanese alike, criticised her for her comments, calling her “ignorant”, “uneducated”, “brainwashed”, and other derogatory names. Many struggled to understand how she should support or justify such as a harmful practice simply because “it is custom and tradition” – a phrase that has become part of everyday Sudanese lingo, still mimicked lightheartedly as a shorthand explanation for certain beliefs or actions.
A similar sentiment emerged during the COVID-19 pandemic, when Sudanese people took to social media to say: “السودانيين بخافو من اللوم اكثر من الموت,” which translates to “Sudanese fear blame more than death.”
These statements refer to how many Sudanese men and women exposed themselves to the risk of coronavirus infection by neglecting the social distancing rules of the COVID-19 pandemic – attending ’azaa (funeral service) or wedding occasions, visiting those who were ill or had died from the virus, or even physically greeting others to avoid appearing rude – simply to escape societal blame for failing to fulfil a social obligation. In Sudanese society, fulfilling such obligations is a core cultural value, rooted in the people’s deeply hospitable nature and strong sense of responsibility toward others and their well-being. Neglecting these social duties, values, and norms is often viewed as un-Sudanese and as a breach of expected social values and behaviour, frequently resulting in criticism, accusations, or even social ostracism.
There is much that is beautiful and worth celebrating in culture and tradition. However, some social and cultural practices and expectations can come at a high cost, and often harming to our physical, emotional or mental health, violating our rights, and going against our personal morals and beliefs. So, why do we still hold society, culture and tradition in such high regard, often priortising them over logic, health and even religion? Society and culture go hand in hand; one cannot exist without the other. They are deeply intertwined: society provides the framework for cultural practices, while culture is built upon societal values and, in turn, shapes social structures and behaviours. Traditions, as a key part of culture, offer a sense of connection and continuity, linking us to both our past and our future. It is for this reason that we cling so tightly to society and its cultural norms. Together, they provide us with a strong sense of identity.
However, should we blindly follow society, culture and traditions? Surely not. These constructs and their products should be questioned, studied, and understood. We need to know our history, and learn how and why certain practices evolved into cultural norms or traditions. In collectivist societies such as Sudan’s, individualism takes a back seat, hindering Individuals to become independent or critical thinkers. While collective identity has its value, individualism should also be nurtured. People must be given the freedom to think independently, and to discover their identities beyond those defined by society and culture.
Ola Diab is the new founder and editor of 500 Words Magazine, and the deputy editor of Marhaba Information Guide, Qatar’s premier information guide. Based in Qatar, the Sudanese journalist graduated from Northwestern University in Qatar (NU-Q) in 2012 with a Bachelor of Science in Journalism and has since built a successful career in the print and digital media industry in Qatar. Find her on X (formerly Twitter) @therealoladiab or on LinkedIn.
