At 19, I often felt like the least cool among my circle of friends. Back then, I didn’t have the same level of fashion independence that I enjoy today.

I considered myself rather prude because I didn’t wear one of the more risqué accessories in Cameroonian society - anklets.

My decision to abstain from wearing anklets was influenced by the societal messages I had internalized regarding the women and girls who wore them. These messages linked anklets to specific demographics. For instance, wearing an anklet on the left leg was considered a distinct signal associated with identifying as a lesbian. Those who adorned their right ankles with anklets were often labeled as "call girls.” In the case of a married woman wearing an anklet on their right foot, it could be interpreted as a willingness to engage in extramarital sexual relations. In the local Cameroonian language, they were referred to as "partout,” which translates to "everywhere.”

In actuality, the women who chose to wear anklets tended to conform to a specific stereotype: they were typically bold, and assertive women who weren't afraid to live life on their own terms. They carried themselves with a strong presence, occupied space unapologetically, and exhibited defiance in their demeanor. Interestingly, even in the Bible, a few verses from the book of Isaiah, particularly in chapter 3, refer to the behaviour of women who wore anklets. The Bible describes them as proud and skilled in the art of seduction. Often, this type of woman was met with social ostracism. I witnessed this phenomenon in real life as well. I knew a girl who would remove her anklet before visiting her relatives because, on the few occasions she wore it, it would lead to finger-pointing and gossip. It often left me wondering if these women still allowed the judgments of others to dictate the course of their lives.

On that day at the market, I hadn’t set out to purchase an anklet. But as the late afternoon sunbathed the scene, I happened upon a vendor who had one that immediately captured my attention. This anklet was adorned with glistening crystal rhinestones and featured dangling heart shapes, all set against a backdrop of gold plating. Its style exuded a sense of carefree allure, which greatly appealed to my teenage self.

The vendor had set up her stall near the market’s exit just as I came to a halt. Her posture was inviting, and her smile was warm and wide. It was evident that she was enthusiastic about me browsing her wares, and she seemed doubly delighted knowing that I had indeed spotted something that piqued my interest - and she was absolutely correct.

She spoke animatedly, attempting to entice me with possibly pricier options, but my decision was already firm. I had my heart set on that anklet. I made the purchase for $2, put it on right away, and it has been a staple accessory in my wardrobe ever since.

I began to wear them without hesitation, though, only when I casually mentioned the idea during a conversation with my mom to gauge her reaction. Her response was, "They’re just jewellery, like a bracelet or necklace. I understand that people can attach all sorts of meanings to them, but I don't have any issues with it. If you're wondering whether you can wear them, go ahead.” I had already started wearing one on my right foot a week earlier, but she didn’t need to know that. According to societal stereotypes, I might have been labeled as a "call girl,” so it was important for me to confirm that my mother was comfortable with potentially being perceived as the mother of someone who wore anklets.

How can we break free from the ingrained beliefs we acquire during childhood? How can our "logical” minds release outdated beliefs that no longer benefit us? How do we transition from the belief that anklets are associated with women who are carefree and available to men to embracing our authentic selves? These are questions that an article on one Ambajay website, a blog that touts itself as offering the "widest range of entertainment,” prompted me to ponder.

Throughout history, the tradition of wearing anklets has been extensively recorded among the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans. Moreover, in India, anklets have maintained a continuous presence and have consistently symbolized affluence and social standing, regardless of gender.

Similar to these countries, anklets in Rwanda carry significant tribal connotations. Historically, adorning oneself with numerous "ubutega” (Kinyarwanda term for anklets) on both ankles, extending all the way to the knees, was a deliberate way of showcasing one's financial standing. This practice transformed ubutegas into a subtle emblem of affluence for an inner circle of fashion enthusiasts and cultural aficionados. The anklets seem to declare, "Look at me, I'm enduring this discomfort for the sake of prestige, to signal my importance to others.” As Andre Ntagwabira, the Archaeology Research Specialist at the Rwanda Cultural Heritage Academy, aptly described, "married women would wear anklets on both legs, while the affluent would sport hundreds, or even thousands of them, significantly affecting their gait. These leg bracelets often featured adornments such as cowrie shells or bells.”

But somehow, articles like the one from Ambajay seem to center the discussion around men, cautioning that "imitating others without understanding the repercussions can result in disastrous outcomes due to ignorance and negligence.”

Here, the disastrous outcomes refer to "inadvertently deterring a potential partner interested in a committed relationship or marriage.” Of course, as women, what could be worse than missing out on the amazing opportunity of marriage? The author concludes his "profound” advice by stating, "it is no longer inherently inappropriate to wear anklets, but it is essential to use them properly.” Don’t make me laugh!

This is why some perceive wearing an anklet as a feminist statement. In this context, the anklet, much like other forms of clothing, symbolizes a woman's autonomy, her freedom to make choices, and her entitlement to equal treatment from men. Alternatively, if you're like me, you may simply find anklets enjoyable, attention-catching, and an excellent means of expressing your personal style. Personally, I appreciate them either with a touch of delightful 2000s extravagance or as a simple, elegant gold chain, much like a wedding band. If you're the type of person, however, who insists that anklets somehow define a woman's personality, you’re part of the problem.