On listening to Beyonce in Benin

I don’t really know why I never got into Beyonce. I know the “Single Ladies” dance, but I don’t know any woman who was born between 1980-2003 who doesn’t know the “Single Ladies” dance. I am generally aware of her presence as an artist and her as a member of what you can call a music mogul family, but the surprise drop of an album last December was not high on my list of priorities.

However, it was high on the list of priorities for one of my best friends here.

So, last week, when we acquired a copy of Beyonce, almost all the music that I listened to for the rest of week was Beyonce.

I don’t know if it was because we were in the middle of a secondary training for a community health project in which we (the Americans) had to defend the right for a woman to seek pleasure out of sex to the other participants (the Beninese men and women).

Or if it was because I’ve spent a double-digit amount of months living a country where it’s hard to still call myself a feminist and not feel like I’m lying to myself a little.

Or if it was because I wonder everyday if the girls that I teach will ever realize that they are allowed to want more from their life than what they have been told is an acceptable amount to want out of life.

Of if the songs are just really that catchy.

But last week Beyonce really seemed to know what she was talking about.