By: Wurie Kargbo
“The revolution will not be televised, “Gil Scott-Heron once said. But in today’s world, the revolution is digital. And for many women in Sierra Leone, especially in rural communities, it is one they cannot fully take part in.
Happily, we have once again set forth with celebrations of yet another International Women’s Day. Across the world, the day is marked with grand speeches, bold declarations, and promises of a more equal future. The air buzzes with celebrations around cities and towns; women in brightly coloured jeans and shirts are marching through tarred and dusty roads, panel discussions in grand halls, hashtags flooding social media with calls for empowerment and justice. And yet, beneath the surface of all this commemoration, a quiet and stubborn truth lingers: for many women, particularly in places like Sierra Leone, progress remains a distant promise rather than a lived reality.
On a day like this, I have always taken a moment to reflect and weave my thoughts into words, to acknowledge both the victories and the stubborn barriers that refuse to fall. But last year and the year before, caught in the endless pull of deadlines and the urgency of delivering tasks, I found myself silent. Not deliberately, but silent nonetheless. And as the day passed, I waited. Waited for someone, anyone, to raise the alarm, to highlight the deep and growing digital divide that hindered the majority of women’s participation in politics, in business, and in decision-making processes. But I could not read or heard any such words.
No articles unravelled the fair share of women in today’s digital world. No urgent commentary illuminated the fact that while the world is pushing forward with artificial intelligence, block chain, and global connectivity, thousands of women in Sierra Leone are still struggling to send a simple email. No discussions surfaced about the glaring absence of the rural poor women from online political spaces, where policies are debated, where leaders engage, where power is negotiated. It was as if their exclusion was an accepted fate, not an issue demanding immediate action.
As we celebrate this year’s “achievements”, could there be someone to talk about the fair share of women in today’s digital age? Certainly, yes! With a breath of fresh air, I will say that I have been fortunate in the past few days to have been part of a team that conducted trainings on digital advocacy across five districts the the support of Ireland in Sierra Leone through SEND – SIERRA LEONE. During these sessions, I walked into rooms filled with determined women; women whose voices have been muffled by the invisible walls of the digital divide. I have met Mariama, a leader in Bonthe, her spirit unwavering but her hands hesitant over the small, outdated phone she clutches. I have spoken with Isatu in Kenema, a market woman whose business could flourish if only she had access to online platforms where buyers now gather. I have sat with young female politicians in Kono, their faces alight with ambition yet clouded with uncertainty as they confess their fears of engaging online, knowing that for every opinion they share, a dozen insults will follow.
The world has changed. Advocacy is no longer confined to street protests and community meetings; it has found a home in the digital space. But how do you advocate when you have no access? How do you amplify your voice when you cannot navigate the platforms where conversations are shaping the future? The digital divide is not merely an inconvenience, it is a form of exclusion as insidious as any that has come before. It is a denial of opportunity, a barrier to economic independence, a silencing of voices that should be heard. It is seemingly the modern equivalent of locking women out of schools, of denying them the right to vote, of telling them they belong in the shadows while the world moves forward without them.
In the rooms where these trainings were conducted, these truths were impossible to ignore. The hunger for knowledge was palpable. Women leaned forward in their chairs, their eyes fixed on the screens as they learned how to navigate social media, how to craft compelling messages, how to engage in political discussions without fear. Some, like Mariama, struggled to even hold the device properly. Others, like Isatu, worried about the cost of data, which remains a luxury few can afford. And then there were the young women in politics; the ones who had managed to cross the first hurdle of access but found themselves trapped by another force: the brutal reality of online harassment.
“I posted about women’s rights once,” a female councilor from Kailahun told me, her voice steady but her fingers trembling slightly as she scrolled through her phone. “Within minutes, men flooded my comments with insults. They told me I should stay in the kitchen. Some even sent threats.”
The price of visibility for women in politics is often paid in intimidation and abuse. The digital space, which should be a tool for empowerment, becomes yet another battlefield where women must fight simply to exist. And so, many retreat. They choose silence over abuse. They let go of the very tools that could have amplified their voices. And so, the cycle continues.
But the women I met in these sessions were not willing to accept this fate. They asked questions, they pushed boundaries, they demanded to know how they could break free from the limitations placed upon them. “How do we make sure we are not left behind?” Mariama asked me as our session came to a close. It was not a rhetorical question. It was a plea. It was a challenge.
The answers are not impossible. Internet access must be expanded, especially in rural areas. Data costs must be lowered, to make connectivity affordable for all. Digital literacy must be integrated into early childhood education to ensure that young girls grow up knowing how to use the tools that will shape their futures. And, most urgently, online spaces must be made safer for women, so that they can engage, debate, and lead without the looming threat of harassment.
International Women’s Day is a reckoning. It is a reminder that while we count our progress, we must also count the women who remain on the margins. The women who wake up before dawn to sell their goods, who dream of expanding their businesses but cannot even afford a smartphone. The young girls in schools who could become the next generation of leaders but are never taught how to navigate the digital world. The female politicians who fight for a seat at the table only to be told, time and time again, that they do not belong.
As the world raises its banners today, as the speeches are given and the hashtags trend, let us not forget that there is still work to be done. Let us not forget the women who are still waiting; not for handouts, not for charity, but for the basic tools that would allow them to stand on equal ground. Because if we truly believe in equality, then we must fight for a world where every woman, no matter where she is born, no matter where she lives, has the power to shape her own future.
