The Equality Campaign That Turned a Cutter into a Protector

Forty-five kilometres from Garissa town, the morning sun scorches the plains, turning the earth into a pale furnace. Beneath a sprawling acacia tree, former nomadic women sit cross-legged on a faded mat, their hands busy weaving. Among them is Suli Gedi Jamac, her mustard abaya bright against the dust. As they murmur quietly among themselves, Suli’s gaze reflects a heavy past

To the girls in her village, Suli is now a protector. But years ago, before awareness campaigns reached her, she was part of the very practice she now fights against, she helped enforce Female Genital Mutilation (FGM).

Suli Gedi, a Former cutter describes how Female Genital Mutilation was performed in her community.

“I was fast,” she recalls. “As a girl, I could outrun anyone. The older women used me to catch those who tried to escape the cut.”

In Suli’s community, FGM defined womanhood. An uncut girl was seen as unclean and unsuitable for marriage. Men paid for the procedure, believing it preserved chastity and honour.

“We thought it was religion,” Suli says quietly. “It was only ignorance.”

She began by delivering terrified girls to cutters and eventually learned to perform the procedure herself. She even cut her own daughter, believing it was the right thing to do. Fear was constant. Some girls bled for hours; a few nearly died.

“I was terrified,” she remembers. “If one died, the family would come for me, or the authorities, though no one spoke of jail back then.”

Authorities often looked the other way, and communities celebrated the practice with feasts and fundraisers, masking the suffering of the girls.

Everything changed when Suli learned about ActionAid Kenya’s work through the Girl Generation Programme–Africa Led Movement (TGG-ALM). All community members who attended the organisation’s meetings returned with a new understanding: FGM is neither a religious requirement nor a cultural necessity. It is a harmful practice that robs girls of their health, education, and dignity. The meetings included religious leaders, cultural leaders, authorities, and other stakeholders, ensuring that the message reached the entire community.

 “FGM survives on inequality,” says Zamzam Hassan, Programme Coordinator for TGG-ALM. “Poverty drives it, and silence protects it.”

During the programme’s implementation period, Zamzam and her team traveled dusty roads to Nanighi and Bura wards, collaborating with schools, religious leaders, elders, women’s networks, and men’s groups. Together, they built community structures to protect girls. Former cutters were trained in small business skills to establish alternative livelihoods.

The campaign also introduced gender forums in schools, encouraging boys and girls to challenge harmful norms.

“Equality is the only lasting solution,” Zamzam explains. “Empowering women, educating girls, and supporting families economically are essential to ending FGM.”

Suli eventually laid down her blade. She enrolled her daughter in school and began visiting homes, speaking with mothers still bound by tradition. She also found a new purpose: weaving. Today, Suli teaches other former cutters how to make baskets and mats, transforming the skills they once used to harm into a source of income.

“I ask forgiveness from those I harmed,” she says, her voice trembling. “Now I protect the girls I once hurt.”

Chief Mahat Borrow Shurie, Nanighi has observed a noticeable change. While insecurity and poor roads are still slowing development, the prevalence of FGM has significantly declined.

“In the past, cutting was treated like a business by cutters,” Chief Mahat explains. “Simply outlawing it wasn’t enough; people resist change if they have no alternatives. But with proper support, training provided through the programme, effective enforcement and increased awareness, the practice can be stopped. We’ve seen a real drop in FGM because the community now has viable options.”

Suli Gedi guides women in basket and mat weaving as an alternative source of income and empowerment.

As the midday sun thickens the air, Suli looks up from her weaving. The land shimmers, harsh yet alive with change.

“In the past, we questioned God for making us women,” she says softly. “There was so much pain and shame. Today, we thank God. We have found our voice. Girls go to school like boys. FGM is fading. There is hope.”

Editorial Team: Ezra Kiriago ,Communications Coordinator ActionAid Kenya.