Bim Adewunmi: The Jamaican 100m breaststroke swimmer has double cause to celebrate after her record-breaking win at the Fina World Swimming championships
A big congratulations to Jamaican swimmer Alia Atkinson, who isa new 100m breaststroke champion. Atkinson completed the race in 1minute and 2.36 seconds at the Fina World Swimming championships in Doha at the weekend, equalling the record set by Lithuanian swimmer Rta Meilutyt. Atkinson is the first ever black woman to win a world swimming title.
Atkinson, who mostly trains in Florida,where she also works with theInternational Swimming Hall of Fame to promote swimming toyoungsters from different communities, looked overwhelmed byher win on Saturday.
According to a 2010 survey byUSA Swimming, 69% of African American children have low or no swimming ability. The stereotype of black people refusing to learn how to swim is a stubborn one to shake, but with Atkinsons win and others such as Justin Lynch (an 18-year-old California swimmer who broke Michael Phelpss 2001 national age-group record last year) perhaps it is beingeroded.
After her win, Atkinson told AFP: Hopefully, my face willcome out, there willbemore popularity, especially in Jamaica and theCaribbean, and well seemore of a rise.
Only women are allowed to live in Umoja. Julie Bindel visits the Kenyan village that began as a refuge for survivors of sexual violence and discovers its inhabitants are thriving in the single-sex community
Jane says she was raped by three men wearing Gurkha uniforms. She was herding her husbands goats and sheep, and carrying firewood, when she was attacked. I felt so ashamed and could not talk about it to other people. They did terrible things to me, says Jane, her eyes alive with pain.
She is 38 but looks considerably older. She shows me a deep scar on her leg where she was cut by stones when she was pushed to the ground. In a quiet, hesitant voice she continues her story. I eventually told my husbands mother that I was sick, because I had to explain the injuries and my depression. I was given traditional medicine, but it did not help. When she told my husband [about the rape], he beat me with a cane. So I disappeared and came here with my children.
Jane is a resident of Umoja, a village in the grasslands of Samburu, in northern Kenya, surrounded by a fence of thorns. I arrive in the village at the hottest time of the day, when the children are sleeping. Goats and chickens wander around, avoiding the bamboo mats on which women sit making jewellery to sell to tourists, their fingers working quickly as they talk and laugh with each other. There are clothes drying in the midday sun on top of the huts made from cow dung, bamboo and twigs. The silence is broken by birdsong, shrill, sudden and glorious. It is a typical Samburu village except for one thing: no men live here.
My arrival is greeted by singing and dancing from the women. They wear traditional Samburu dress of patterned skirts, brightly coloured shirts and a kanga (a colourful wrap) tied on their shoulders. Necklaces made of strings of vividly coloured beads form stunning circular patterns around their necks. The colourful clothing contrasts with the dry air and terrain, and the harsh sun that picks out the dust that fills the air.