This chapter will provide examples of legislative processes in which countries have adopted laws and policies amidst both support and resistance. It will also show that the push for criminalisation often came from, and was similarly challenged by, African women. Despite legislative measures to protect women and girls against FGM/C, the fact is that the practice continues, there are few prosecutions, and additional challenges are faced after criminalisation. These include driving the practice underground, a tendency to cut girls at an earlier age, and a move towards cross-border FGM/C (PATH 2005; Plugge et al. 2019). This raises the question of whether meaningful social change can be legislated. This chapter will evaluate anti-FGM/C laws in Africa, looking at their development and enactment, comparative implementation, impact, and accompanying successes and weaknesses. It concludes by positioning the law within the complex multidimensional approaches in place to address FGM/C, speaking to its critical role and potential in supporting the campaign to end FGM/C across Africa.

The earliest recorded campaigns started in Egypt in the 1920s, when the Ministry of Health, the media, and religious experts backed the Egyptian Society of Physicians’ declaration detailing the harmful health repercussions of FGM/C (UNICEF 2013). As early as the 1960s, some countries in Africa already had legislative provisions prohibiting FGM/C: Guinea (1965) and, in 1966, the Central African Republic (UNICEF 2013; UNFPA n.d.). Following the first International Conference on Population and Development held in Cairo in 1994, more countries followed suit (Katzive 2003). The issue was also starting to be addressed as an international human rights concern, referred to as discriminatory and an act of violence against women and girls.

While international human rights instruments before 1990 do not explicitly mention the practice of FGM/C, it fits the definition of violence and discrimination against women and has been subsequently affirmed under the same instruments. The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1966), and the 1976 International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights all provide a broad foundation for the protection of girls and women against FGM/C. More specifically, the 1979 Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and the 1989 Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) focus on the rights of women and children, and have subsequently, through General Comments, denounced FGM/C as a harmful practice. (See Chapter 1 for more information about CEDAW General Comments, and United Nations protocols. Note that all African states are members of the UN.) At a regional level, the African continent, through the African Union, has been proactive in adopting conventions that address FGM/C and reflect standards in international legal instruments. These are notably the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (the Banjul Charter 1981); the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child (1990); the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa (the Maputo Protocol 2003); and the 2003 Cairo Declaration for the Elimination of FGM/C. They all explicitly prohibit FGM/C, and require states to adopt legislative measures to prohibit the practice.

Beyond Africa, the European Parliament and Council of Europe have passed several resolutions and adopted the Istanbul Convention,1The Council of Europe Convention on preventing and combating violence against women and domestic violence (also known as the Istanbul Convention) was regionally drafted but allows for any country to become a signatory. condemning FGM/C as ‘a violation of fundamental human rights’.2EU Parliament Resolution A5-0285/2001. They have also urged member states to recognise FGM/C as a legitimate basis for granting asylum.3EU Parliamentary Report on gender-related asylum claims, 12350/2010. For a comprehensive discussion of the provisions of the different instruments see: https://www.endvawnow.org/en/articles/645-sources-of-international-human-rights-law-on-female-genital-mutilation.html [Accessed 16 August 2025].

What the widespread enactment of international and regional instruments mandating legislative measures for addressing FGM/C demonstrates is the fact that the use of law as a strategy is well established, based on the consensus among governments and other stakeholders on the numerous human rights violations that the practice represents to women and girls. What is in question is the appropriateness and efficacy of using the law in preventing and responding to the practice.

Campaigning for an end to the practice in Kenya and within the continent greatly increased from the 1970s, with NGOs and women’s organisations bringing the issue to public attention (UNICEF 2013). In Kenya, legislation against the practice started with the domestication of the 1990 United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child through the enactment of the national Children Act 2001, which outlawed ‘female circumcision’.4The Children Act 2001 was preceded by the first governmental ban prohibiting state hospitals and clinics from practising FGM (as it was then called) in 1989, and the 1999 National Plan of Action for the Elimination of FGM, which emphasised the importance of education. The Children Act 2001 was revised and amended by the Children Act 2022. The passing of this law led to calls for its criminalisation by civil society, policy makers, and legislators. This agitation resulted in the adoption of the National Policy for the Eradication of Female Genital Mutilation, approved in 2010, which preceded the Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation Act (hereafter the anti-FGM Act), signed into law in October 2011. The law defines FGM/C, criminalising its performance, procurement, aiding and abetting, failure to report, and extraterritorial aspects of the practice.

The passing of this law was spearheaded by legislators, in particular women, with the support of the then National Commission on Gender and Development and the Ministry for Gender, Children, and Social Affairs. The UNFPA-UNICEF Joint Programme on the Elimination of Female Genital Mutilation (hereafter the UN Joint Programme), launched in 2008, also supported the process. The Bill was drafted by the Kenya Women’s Parliamentary Association and introduced into parliament by Jebii Kilimo and Sophia Abdi Noor, both from practising communities, who were passionate advocates for the end of FGM/C (UNFPA n.d.). The women parliamentarians used a strategy which involved identifying male parliamentary allies who were likely to support an anti-FGM/C Bill, creating awareness and seeking their support. Nationwide public awareness-raising meetings were held on the practice and the Bill before parliament. The UN Joint Programme also supported capacity building for those who would be responsible for upholding the law, training police, probation officers, and community leaders, in addition to supporting media messaging via television and radio (ibid.). The Bill received support from several male legislators and did not face any opposition in its three readings in parliament, passing with the full support of all legislators.

Despite public awareness of the law, there remained disquiet among some communities which felt that the law was an assault on their cultural way of life, and some were unclear on what the law really entailed. However, outright public protest was only seen almost a decade after the law was enacted. In Kajiado County there have been several public protests, mainly by Maasai women, since the law was passed. In 2014 and 2015 there were protests by hundreds of Maasai women (see Hughes, Chapter 14, this volume). More recently, in 2020, public defiance of the law was evident in the Kuria community, when citizens danced in the streets and girls who had undergone FGM/C were paraded in the region’s main urban centres. Men carrying machetes surrounded the girls, threatening to deter anyone who tried to interfere or disrupt the ceremony.5Muiruri (2020). Peter Muiruri, ‘Kenyan efforts to end FGM suffer blow with victims paraded in “open defiance”’, The Guardian, UK, 21 October. https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/oct/21/kenyan-efforts-to-end-fgm-suffer-blow-with-victims-paraded-in-open-defiance [Accessed 16 August 2025].

What the passing of the anti-FGM/C law shows is that while its main proponents were women who had themselves undergone the cut, its main opponents are also women who, despite undergoing the cut and some living with its negative consequences, still strongly believe in its importance as a marker of belonging to a community and a culturally significant practice (see Kamau, Chapter 12, this volume).

In 1984, a National Committee for the Abandonment of Harmful Practices Affecting Women and Children was established in Senegal, following a conference held in Dakar where African NGOs formed the Inter-African Committee on Traditional Practices Affecting the Health of Women and Children (Berer 2015; also see Fusaschi, Chapter 2, this volume).7Since 1984, IAC national committees have been formed in twenty-eight African countries and affiliates established in fifteen countries outside Africa. This committee (the IAC) held countrywide panel discussions and seminars to provide information at a grassroots level about the harmful health effects of FGM/C. In February 1998, then president Diouf called for its eradication, and a national debate on the issue. The Ministry of Women, Children and the Family sponsored public programmes, and an information campaign was run on the radio. For the next ten months, following the presidential directive and in the wake of active debate among Senegal’s parliamentarians, legal scholars, religious leaders, and local anti-FGM/C activists and programme leaders, parliament enacted legislation outlawing the practice. In January 1999, a law prohibiting FGM/C was enacted under Article 229 of the country’s 1965 Penal Code (28 Too Many 2018, 2021).8With the exception of Mali all other neighbouring countries have adopted laws prohibiting FGM/C: Guinea in 1965, revised in 2000; Mauritania 2005; Guinea-Bissau 2011; and The Gambia in 2015. The Ministry of Family Affairs then produced and adopted Action Plan 2000–2005, which aimed to eradicate FGM/C in Senegal by 2015. This was relaunched to cover 2010–2015 in partnership with the UN Joint Programme, starting in 2008. In addition, Law No. 2005–2018 on Reproductive Health in Senegal sets out in Article 4 that the relevant services to be provided by government include those specifically tackling FGM/C, sexual abuse, and practices harmful to reproductive health. Critics of the law argued that the Senegalese government had only adopted it to ‘please American sensitivities’ and ensure the continuation of American aid to Senegal (Shell-Duncan et al. 2013).

There is little documentation of any major protest against the enactment of the law in Senegal, although there has been notable resistance to its implementation and enforcement by those who feel that FGM/C is an important part of their culture that should continue. This defiance is demonstrated by several public outcries at the arrest of perpetrators over the years.

The relative ease, despite pockets of dissenting voices, with which anti-FGM/C laws were passed in both countries did translate into immediate implementation. In Kenya, by October 2011, the same year the law was passed, there had been five arrests of people charged under the anti-FGM Act and awaiting prosecution.9As of 2024 the number of reported concluded prosecutions is less than 100 (Kenya Law Database). However, there is no information available on their conviction or otherwise (UNICEF 2021). Similarly, in Senegal in January 1999, the same month the law was passed, two arrests were made but did not result in conviction. In July 1999, a mother, grandmother, and excisor were charged for procuring FGM/C on a five-year-old girl, but public opposition led to the cases not being pursued; only the mother was later convicted for allowing her daughter to be cut (Kandala and Kombo 2015; UNFPA 1999). Kenya, in comparison to Senegal, has had more cases of arrests, charges, and convictions, which are also better documented. In Senegal, prosecutions have been very few, with many reports giving the total as few as eight (28 Too Many 2021; UNFPA 2017).

The laws in both countries have similar provisions, providing for a range of offences: performing, procuring, aiding and abetting FGM/C on another person, failure to report the commission of FGM/C, and medicalisation. Kenya’s law has extra provisions that prohibit cross-border FGM/C, allowing premises to be used for FGM/C, and the use of derogatory or abusive language towards those who have not undergone FGM/C. While implementing the law has been fraught with challenges in both countries, a clear distinction is seen in the approach. NGOs in Senegal have argued that the law should be used to complement other strategies, in particular education of communities on the effects of FGM/C. Gallo Kebe, coordinator of the UN Joint Programme in Senegal, said in 1999: ‘We have two main approaches to ending FGM/C. The law is there, but we focus primarily on raising awareness. The law alone won’t end FGM/C’ (UNFPA 1999:4). The law is seen as a tool to facilitate conversations and give credence to those working in communities to change people’s knowledge, attitudes, and behaviour towards FGM/C (Kandala and Kombo 2015; UNFPA 2017).

The two decades preceding the passing of the law in Senegal were characterised by extensive education and awareness raising across the country, with declarations of abandonment in several regions. For example, in July 1997 the village of Malicounda Bambara decided to abandon the practice after the villagers underwent Tostan’s non-formal education programme. A 2008 evaluation of the Action Plan noted that, of the 5,000 or so villages that previously practised FGM/C, 3,300 had foresworn the practice by 2008 in public declarations.10Research has shown that public declarations do not always translate to people giving up FGM/C (see for example Hughes, Chapter 14, this volume). There are, however, areas in which the practice is still strongly defended (Kandala and Kombo 2015). The approach that sees the law as a last resort, as a strategy to be leveraged rather than the go-to solution, could account for the very few cases in the country. Nonetheless, there have been cases that have led to convictions. For example, in July 2009 the Kolda Regional Court, trying a case which involved the death of a child after FGM/C, sentenced the person who performed FGM/C and two accomplices to three-month suspended prison sentences. This decision was condemned, with concerns raised about whether such lenient sentences would be a deterrent. In May 2010, the Kaolack Court of Appeal sentenced a perpetrator who performed FGM/C to six months imprisonment, with the accomplices receiving three-month prison sentences. The use of law has reportedly driven the practice underground in some high-prevalence areas, and seen protests when arrests are made, leading to the perpetrators being pardoned, or lack of follow-up on charges. Enforcement has also encouraged people to cross borders to neighbouring countries like Mali, which do not have anti-FGM/C laws (Kandala and Kombo 2015; UNFPA 1999).

Kenya has used the law more frequently in a bid to stop the practice, and met defiance. Community members do not always report when FGM/C is taking place, as some still do not agree with the ban. Those who perform FGM/C take flight and are rarely apprehended or prosecuted due to lack of evidence. This is compounded by the fact that those on whom FGM/C is performed, and their families, are usually unwilling to give evidence, frustrating prosecution. It is also challenging to confirm if a person has undergone FGM/C without a medical examination, which most victims are unwilling to undergo, and some are forced to undergo, raising ethical issues around consent (UNICEF 2021). The lack of sufficient and continued sensitisation of communities on the law encourages pockets of resistance, though this has been remedied with civil society organisations and the Anti-FGM Board holding regular sensitisation campaigns across the country. Prosecution has also brought about a transformation of the practice, with FGM/C being performed in secret, at infancy or a much younger age, below ten years. Others cross borders from Kenya to Uganda, Tanzania, or Somalia, where enforcement of the law is seen to be more lax (UNICEF 2021; UNFPA 2022). All these challenges exist despite national government support for ending the practice, with a presidential decree in 2019 to eradicate FGM/C by 2022 in Kenya (Kmietowicz 2019). Notwithstanding these challenges, Kenya has among the highest rates of prosecution and convictions for FGM/C on the continent. For example, in 2019, seventy-six persons (fifty-nine females and seventeen males) were arrested in connection with the cutting of fifty girls (UNICEF 2021:32).

A recent study by the American Bar Association (ABA), which looked at prosecutions in three jurisdictions and high court cases in Kenya, confirmed the challenges noted above while also observing emerging issues. A majority of the cases coming before the courts were of survivors/victims of the practice charged with procuring FGM/C, with very few cases brought against those performing FGM/C. Of the 155 accused persons, seventy-seven were survivors/victims while only eight were cutters. Other concerns arose around re-victimisation, self-incrimination, misapplication of the failure to report section of the law11Under Section 24 of the law, a person commits an offence if they fail to report FGM/C in process, intended, or previously committed. (where victims are charged under this provision), and the best interests of the child. This begs the question of whether, in these cases, the spirit of the law rather than the letter was being upheld. Did the law envision or intend to criminalise those who were already victims of the cut? (American Bar Association 2024; 28 Too Many 2018). Criminalising the victims of FGM/C contravenes obligations under international and national law to protect victims, and this has been expressed in various General Comments.12Although General Comments are legally non-binding, they are extremely important for clarifying State Parties’ obligations. See the African Committee of Experts on the Rights and Welfare of the Child (ACERWC) and African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights (ACHPR) Joint General Comment on Female Genital Mutilation (June 2023:17). https://www.acerwc.africa/sites/default/files/2023-11/Joint%20General%20Comment_ACHPR-ACERWC_on%20FGM%20%282%29_0.pdf [Accessed 14 July 2025].

Even as implementation of the law has proved challenging as a prevention and protection strategy, it has not been without its successes. Evidence suggests that FGM/C legislation has had some effect in preventing FGM/C or accelerating its abandonment. In Senegal, where notable strides have been made towards abandonment, prosecution is rarely used but has successfully been used as leverage to deter the practice (Kandala and Komba 2015). In Kenya, the law has been a double-edged sword, working as a deterrent while also facing much defiance. In other countries, such as Burkina Faso, strict enforcement of the law has led to a decline in prevalence in some parts of the country (Diop et al. 2008). In Eritrea, compliance with the FGM/C law has been furthered by the creation of a community-level enforcement mechanism, and through setting up local anti-FGM/C committees in every community, which have reportedly been successful in preventing FGM/C (Muthumbi et al. 2015:36). These committees engage local law enforcement officials in monitoring violations of the law, educating families about FGM/C, and reporting FGM/C to the authorities when it occurs (UNFPA-UNICEF 2012). Research has shown that the criminalisation of FGM/C has deterred some people from the practice for fear of legal consequences (Matanda et al. 2023; Meroka-Mutua et al. 2020; UNICEF 2021). Therefore, can legislation be written off as an ineffective strategy or will rethinking its development, adoption, implementation, and enforcement address some concerns about its efficacy?

Those who oppose the use of legislation cite several well-evidenced reasons associated with implementation and enforcement. There continues to be defiance of the law, which communities see as a coercive top-down directive that does not involve them in its conceptualisation, adoption, and implementation (PATH 2005; UNFPA n.d.). Response to implementation has in some cases been counterproductive, seeing the practice go underground and harder to contain (Boyle et al. 2010). There is under-reporting in surveys and studies for fear of legal consequences (UNFPA 2021), which arguably affects programming, advocacy, and service provision. Criminalisation of the practice has also discouraged girls and women from reporting to authorities (Plugge et al. 2019), or seeking treatment by trained healthcare professionals and institutions, especially for medical complications, for fear of being reported to the authorities under the mandatory reporting provisions stipulated in the law (Karlsen et al. 2020; UNICEF 2013). Several scholars have expressed concerns over the broader implications, in particular over the psychological effects on girls who have undergone the cut seeing the arrest and prosecution of their parents and guardians; the financial impact of imposing fines on already poor people; and the potential imprisonment of the initiators and practitioners of FGM/C, who are primarily women, thereby exacerbating the marginalisation of women (American Bar Association 2024; Katzive 2003; Shell-Duncan and Hernlund 2000). The most striking contradiction with regard to FGM/C, that continues to impede its abandonment, is that, unlike other forms of rights abuse, the perpetrators believe they are acting in the best interest of the victims and therefore any legal ban is subject to challenges and controversy in communities where it is enforced (Shell-Duncan et al. 2000).

For protagonists of the law, given the evidence of the life-threatening and long-term intersecting consequences of FGM/C, there is a need for strong messaging on zero tolerance towards the practice, to hasten its abandonment. (See ‘Axes of Difference’ in the Introduction, and the textbox, p. 00 of this volume.) Arguments have been put forth on the role of law in providing an enabling environment for other initiatives and supporting those who have abandoned or desire to abandon FGM/C (UNFPA n.d.; Shell-Duncan et al. 2013). The law is seen as giving legitimacy to civil society and other stakeholders to advocate abandonment. For example, Kandala and Komba (2015:845) argue that ‘national groups or NGOs would not have been engaged in the eradication campaign unless they believed their actions were legally justified under Senegal’s law …’. On this basis, the law offers protection for girls and women seeking safeguards, and provides a framework in which public officials have the power to ensure their legal protection. The law therefore is not just about prevention; it is also a basis for the adoption of national action plans, policies, and programmes that provide guidelines and standards on protection, response, and management of FGM/C (Muthumbi et al. 2015; UNFPA-UNICEF 2012).13Both Kenya and Senegal, and several other African countries such as Sudan and Mauritania, have National Action Plans to address FGM/C. The issue is also integrated in health and reproductive rights policies and programmes.

Despite defiance in some quarters, studies have shown that the law does act as a deterrent, discouraging cutters and families who fear prosecution (Kandala and Kombo 2015; Katzive 2003; UNICEF 2021). A study by Shell-Duncan et al. (2013) on legislation in Senegal showed that 84 per cent of those surveyed, in comparison to 7 per cent, believed the law was powerful to stop FGM/C; 80 per cent, compared to 12 per cent, worried about punishment for breaking the law; while 78 per cent, compared to 16 per cent, believed that laws could be enforced in the community. This study, among others, shows that continued sensitisation and implementation of the law does have an effect, at the very least deterring the practice and playing a catalytic role in changing/communicating new norms and consequently behaviour (Matanda et al. 2023). The criminalisation of trends like medicalisation has helped to discourage healthcare professionals in some quarters, because of the fear of possible legal consequences affecting their professional practice (UNICEF 2021). Unfortunately, medicalisation continues to rise, with research attributing this to its perceived safety, exacerbated by the seeming unwillingness of medical regulatory bodies to take concrete action against medical professionals reported for performing FGM/C. Most crucially, the presence of the law reinforces women’s human rights and underscores that FGM/C is unjustified violence against girls and women (Shell-Duncan et al. 2013; UNFPA n.d.).

Of the numerous studies that have sought to understand the efficacy of legislation, most have concluded that the law on its own cannot address FGM/C but must be part of a larger medley of strategies. Studies show that legislation enacted without consideration of the local context may be counterproductive and even harmful for intended beneficiaries (Boyden et al. 2013; UNFPA n.d.), as it can lead to modification rather than elimination of the practice (Ako and Akweongo 2009; Buttia 2015; Matanda et al. 2018; Rasheed et al. 2011; Van Bavel et al. 2017). Therefore, legislation must aim to understand the community and the environment in which the practice takes place, making sure to bring the community along the journey of adopting laws, with conversations and sensitisation on its provisions and intended outcome as much as on the effects of the practice (Boyden et al. 2012; Rahman and Toubia 2000; UNFPA n.d.). Even in the face of unintended consequences, legislation has been shown to serve as a platform and channel for the implementation of other initiatives. On the back of legislative provisions, authorities and other stakeholders can protect girls by placing them in safe spaces and getting them medical attention when needed. On the other hand, enforcement of legislation has occasionally alienated the intended beneficiaries by lowering the number of users seeking services like reproductive health care, and thus jeopardising reporting (Karlsen et al. 2020; Plugge et al. 2019. For the diaspora, see also Chapter 8, Mogilnicka et al., this volume). Civil society players are able to organise and hold awareness-raising initiatives in a bid to change attitudes towards FGM/C (Kandala and Kombo 2015). In settings where community members are already doubting, or have given up, the practice and are looking for social approval, legislation may also help to hasten the transition in FGM/C practice towards abandonment by catalysing the change in social and cultural norms that hold the practice together (Matanda et al. 2023; UNICEF 2013). Legislation can be effective in an environment where it is uniformly applied across a jurisdiction, leaving little room for misinterpretation (Al-Nagar et al. 2017; Baillot et al. 2018). In most countries, legislation is followed by enforcement, with no effective mechanisms in place to report, refer, and protect girls and women at risk of FGM/C (Brown and Porter 2016; Dowuona-Hammond et al. 2020; Camilotti 2015; Hassanin et al. 2013), and this may mean that legislation takes a long time to end FGM/C. Consequently, the number of cases is usually low or mainly non-existent, which could suggest a lack of political will and readiness of the community to abandon the practice (Matanda et al. 2023).

Research indicates that in order to demonstrate an impact on the knowledge, attitudes, and norms that drive the practice (Boyle and Corl 2010; Van Bavel 2020; Alkhalaileh et al. 2018; Nabaneh and Muula 2019), legislation must be supported by political will (Ako and Akweongo 2009), locally-appropriate enforcement mechanisms (Nabaneh and Muula 2019), a combination of other interventions that the target community finds acceptable, adequate resources for implementation (Mehari et al. 2020), and sensitisation (Muthumbi et al. 2015). These studies conclude that law is a promising strategy as part of a multi-dimensional approach whose aim is to understand and address the root causes of the practice.

However, new challenges have emerged questioning not just the effectiveness and application of law, but the need to legislate against FGM/C. Recent legal challenges in Kenya and The Gambia demonstrate this. In Kenya, a court petition by Dr Tatu Kamau (see Chapter 12, also Van Bavel et al., Chapter 10 of this volume) argued that the anti-FGM Act infringed on women’s rights to culture, the best attainable health, and gender equality. Kamau supports the eventual eradication of FGM/C but believes that the practice should be discouraged through awareness-raising rather than legislation (Kenya Law 2017; also see Chapter 12, this volume). She argues that the prohibition of medicalisation denies ‘willing adult women’ access to safe and hygienic circumcisions and therefore infringes their right to ‘the highest attainable standard of health including the right to healthcare’ (Kenya Law 2017: paragraph 12). Her petition was not about children but addressed only the rights of women. Furthermore, she made the point that ‘female genital surgeries conducted for cosmetic purposes in developed countries are legal and yet female genital surgeries in Africa are criminalised’ (ibid.: paragraph 13). The issue of bodily autonomy and consent was central to the arguments averred and rebutted.

In The Gambia, a legal challenge came about in 2023 when a few religious leaders and legislators objected to the first prosecution and conviction of cutters based on the Women’s (Amendment) Act 2015.14In August 2023, Kaur/Kuntaur Magistrates’ Court convicted three women for performing FGM/C on eight adolescent girls. This landmark judgment marked the first conviction of its kind since the enactment of the law banning FGM/C eight years earlier. See https://equalitynow.org/press_release/ngos-unite-to-urge-the-gambias-government-to-uphold-landmark-law-banning-female-genital-mutilation/ [Accessed 15 July 2025]. The legislators introduced the Women’s (Amendment) Act 2024 into parliament to repeal Sections 32A and 32B, which prohibit FGM/C. Similar arguments raised in the Kamau case surfaced, mainly that the banning of the practice was an imposition of Western values, and that it was of cultural and religious importance and therefore banning it was contrary to several provisions of the 1997 constitution.15It was argued that the law was inconsistent with sections 17 (1&2), 25, 28, 32, and 33 of The Gambia Constitution 1997. On 15 July 2024, the Gambian parliament rejected the Women’s (Amendment) 2024 Bill, attempting to remove provisions criminalising FGM/C by voting against it.

Both cases highlighted the continued dissatisfaction around the use of the law. The question then is: can and should the law be used to change social behaviour? Human rights do not function in a vacuum; they are interdependent and interrelated. While allowing for freedom of culture and religion, the human rights regime also recognises that these rights can and have been used to violate other rights, especially of women and children who find themselves living in patriarchal and misogynistic societies. The human rights framework therefore allows for the limitation of rights where they infringe on other rights disproportionately. Cultural relativism should not be used to violate the rights of those who are in most cases the most marginalised and disempowered within communities (Donnelly 1984. See also the discussion of cultural relativism in ‘Axes of Difference’, in the Introduction to this volume).

The law acts as a catalyst to change social and cultural norms towards abandonment. It is most effective in communities where there is already a leaning towards abandonment and, most importantly, in contexts where the community fully understands the law and its implications. Adoption, implementation, and enforcement of the law must involve the community. There is evidence that where strict enforcement is accompanied by proper monitoring and reporting, there is a decline in the practice. Furthermore, community-level enforcement, such as the formation of anti-FGM/C committees and fines imposed at local levels, accompanied by awareness-raising of FGM/C among families, has been effective in preventing FGM/C.

In order to address concerns raised by emerging issues such as the misapplication of legal provisions, which leads to further violation of victims’/survivors’ rights (e.g. re-victimisation), it is necessary to revise and amend the legal provisions to reflect the spirit of the law, and also train law enforcement and judicial officers on prosecution and sentencing. Further research is also needed on how the application of the law is counterproductive, and on the wider social implications for victims and those most marginalised who bear the brunt of prosecution and conviction. There is a need to understand what other strategies within justice systems can complement prosecutions and convictions.

The law as a lone strategy cannot achieve the total eradication of FGM/C; its importance lies in what it contributes to the multidimensional efforts towards ending the practice. Most crucial is the role of law in asserting women’s and girls’ rights, giving them a platform for redress, enabling the development of policies that ensure the provision of services and resources for those at risk and survivors, and allowing critical conversations to address challenges, emerging issues, and implementation of the law towards a common goal of ending FGM/C.