kampot district, Kampot province – As rain poured down on the tin roof of the building just outside Kampot town, a group of commune election candidates discussed ways to alleviate the flooding. Fighting to be heard over the rain, one candidate pledged to build bridges if elected. Another, a rice farmer, spoke of aid to help farmers hurt by flooding.
The rain rose to a roar, muting a new speaker, who was forced to shout. In a sense, this was nothing new to her or the 47 other candidates seated in the room. Together for a three-day workshop to educate women about politics, they were accustomed to being spoken over. And the afternoon downpour was nothing compared to the flood of derision and skepticism some of them have faced in response to their decision to participate in politics.
When Uk Chenda decided to sign up as a candidate for the commune elections, commune officials told her to go home and take care of her children.
“Why are you wasting your time with politics?” they asked, according to Uk Chenda, who was left to tend to two children and rice fields after her husband died two years ago. “You are all alone now. Your struggles will come to nothing,” they said.
Despite such discouragement, Uk Chenda, 28, said she persisted and returned, determined to be put on the candidate list. The officials relented, and four months ago, her commune voted her to the fifth spot out of 15 other candidates on the Sam Rainsy Party list.
“I have to do something with my education. I don’t want to stay at home. I want to fight the corruption I see in the commune leaders today. Some people say my party is unrealistic, but there is a need in my commune to turn the wrong into right,” Uk Chenda said.
Cambodia’s first elections for commune leadership are scheduled for February.
Uk Chenda said she has big plans for the commune if she is elected. She wants to build a canal, a health center and factories.
“All of the investment goes to the cities. I want to build a good road to attract business out here,” she said.
She traveled 50 km for the three-day workshop, the third in a series of six that will end in August.
Sitting beside Uk Chenda was Kheng Sokhorn, 37, a CPP candidate. Like Uk Chenda, Kheng Sokhorn said she has high hopes for women politicians in Cambodia. In fact, she said, the country could have a female prime minister in the next 10 years.
She also said she has faced less resistance as a female politician than Uk Chenda. “My husband supports me,” she said. “He stays at home and takes care of our kids, pigs and chickens while I am here.”
Still, it has not been completely easy, Kheng Sokhorn said. She is the only woman on the CPP list, and is ranked seventh out of seven in her party. “I wish I was second,” she said. “I only have half a chance that I’ll be elected given my rank.”
When she goes to public functions such as weddings, some people recognize her or support her, but many do not, Kheng Sokhorn said.
“It’s difficult for women in government to be able to speak out, take care of their children, and be able to provide for their families,” she said.
Pech Saron, 47, knows the feeling. A Funcinpec candidate, she said her own son ridicules her for running, saying, “It’s useless!”
But Pech Saron said she is doing it for her two daughters and to eliminate corruption, violence and poverty in her commune. She also cites domestic violence as a problem. As a woman, she said, she has a unique perspective on the issue and can help speed reform. She also wants to rebuild a dam that was destroyed last year in the floods.
There were cartoon posters at the workshop showing women fighting back against their abusers, holding ballots over jailed men and fighting for equality. “Women must be brave and stand up to be commune candidates!” one poster stated.
Back in Kampot, opinion in the market and food stalls was divided on whether women should run for office.
Ly, 45, a taxi driver, said he wouldn’t let his wife run in the elections. “Who would cook and take care of the children?” he said.
A monk assistant in the market said he doesn’t have a problem with his wife running, but there is no way she would do it.
“She is old and can’t read,” he said. “Most women are lazy about being politicians, and don’t have the confidence in themselves for the job.”
Sin Chantha, a tailor in a nearby stall, said she thought she had an idea why this was so.
“Girls don’t have the chance because they get married early and have to stop going to school while their brothers go on to university in Phnom Penh,” she said.
Thida, a young woman working at a food stall, agreed. “It’s impossible for women in politics,” she said. “They don’t receive enough education. That’s also why men hold more powerful jobs.”
And Ahbo, a small boy eavesdropping on the conversation said women would not make good candidates because the girls in his class are less clever than the boys.
Despite some of their prejudices, people said they were less concerned with gender than with results.
“I will vote for the candidate who helps us during the floods. Last year the commune council didn’t provide enough assistance,” the monk’s assistant said.
But, he added, the list circulating in his commune this year has the same names as those who were on the council last year. And there are no women on it.
