African women in general need to know that it's OK for them to

The words of Wangari Maathai, “African women in general need to know that it’s OK for them to be the way they are—to see the way they are as a strength, and to be liberated from fear and from silence,” rise like a timeless song carried by the winds of memory. They are not merely words, but a summons to courage, a call to awaken the sleeping fire within those who have long been told to bend, to shrink, to remain unseen. In her voice, there is both the softness of a mother’s blessing and the thunder of a warrior’s command, urging her sisters to reclaim the inheritance that has always been theirs: dignity, voice, and freedom.

Long have women of Africa borne the weight of both tradition and oppression, their stories hidden beneath the noise of stronger voices. Too often the world has told them that their beauty lies in silence, that their worth is found only in service. But Maathai reminds us that the way they are—their laughter, their labor, their visions, and their endurance—is not a weakness to be erased but a strength to be exalted. To accept oneself fully, to walk without shame in the skin and spirit gifted by the ancestors, is the truest form of liberation.

Consider the tale of Wangari Maathai herself. Born in Kenya, she grew amidst both hardship and hope, yet rose to plant not only trees in the soil but seeds in the hearts of her people. Through the Green Belt Movement, she rallied countless women to nurture the earth, restoring forests and rivers, while also restoring the dignity of those who had been told their voices did not matter. Each tree became a symbol of resistance, each woman a guardian of her land and her future. In choosing to stand tall, they broke the chains of fear and silence, and in doing so, they transformed their society.

Let us not forget the countless other women whose names echo across history. In Dahomey, the Amazons marched in ranks, fearless and unbent, their strength woven into the legacy of their nation. In modern times, women like Miriam Makeba carried the voice of Africa to the world, singing not only melodies but also truths too powerful to be caged. Their examples are living proof that when women embrace the fullness of their being, they become unshakable pillars upon which communities rise.

This teaching is not only for women of Africa, but for all who have ever been told that their essence is too much or too little, too loud or too quiet, too dark or too bright. Maathai’s wisdom tells us: what you are is already enough. Strength lies not in changing to please the world, but in standing firm in your truest form. To walk without fear, to speak when silence is demanded, to live as though your existence itself is sacred—that is the path of liberation.

And yet, these words demand action. To live them is to lift one another up. When you see a sister bowing her head in shame, remind her of her crown. When you see a brother blinded by false strength, show him the power of gentleness. When you encounter silence born of fear, lend your voice until others find their own. In the smallest acts—planting a tree, telling a story, refusing to be diminished—you honor the wisdom of this quote.

The lesson is clear: fear is the cage, silence is the chain, but truth is the key. When we recognize that our way of being—our culture, our body, our spirit—is not a burden but a blessing, we open the gates to freedom. And when we act in this truth, we not only liberate ourselves, but we create a path for future generations to walk with heads held high.

So let these words be carried in your heart like a torch. Walk proudly in who you are. Defend the voices of those who tremble. Tend the earth, the spirit, and the community as Maathai tended her trees. And remember always: the world is healed not by those who hide, but by those who dare to be unafraid and unashamed of their true selves.