How to pronounce "stis"

Seems like only yesterday my mother said to me,

"The ugliest thing in the world

is a naked man with socks on."

(Laughter)

Can you believe that was the first piece of sex advice I ever received?

(Laughter)

I was 11 years old, growing up in Kenya,

and I believe this might have been my mother's way of trying to scare me

out of having intimate relationships with men.

It didn't.

(Laughter)

Instead, I became fascinated by sex.

I wanted to hear other people's stories about sex

and watch all the movies with all the sex scenes.

Everything about this very taboo subject was so intriguing to me.

Well, now my mum's gone.

Nine years this year.

And true to her word,

the ugliest thing in the world is a naked man with socks on.

(Laughter)

But over time, I have found things to be far much uglier.

It took me a ton of therapy

to realize that my fixation with sex was due to a traumatized childhood.

See, I was sexually assaulted when I was eight years old.

And I never told anybody,

because even in my comedic-sex-advice household,

I still didn't learn about consent.

And I was afraid.

Afraid that I would get into trouble.

Afraid that it was my fault or that nobody would believe me.

Or, worse still,

afraid that my parents would ground me forever.

And I'm not alone.

Men sexually assault women and girls on a massive rate in Kenya,

where 45 percent of women aged between 15 and 49

have reported either physical or sexual violence.

Actually, only 14 percent have reported sexual violence.

And this is possibly because most of this violence

happens in domestic partnerships,

where the perpetrator is known by the victim.

And these patterns play out all around the world.

And I truly believe

that it's a lack of sex education in schools

that is partially to blame.

Back home,

the education system is one of destroying your relationship with self,

shaming you for your discovery

and then praising you for how much you conform.

This, coupled with disturbing imagery of ailing genitals,

is aimed at teaching us one thing:

to abstain from all sexual activity.

The perfect puritanical society.

But of course, young people are still having sex.

They just don't understand the consequences

of their adult-like choices.

This, too, was my experience.

I had zero resources growing up

and, unfortunately, often found myself in less-than-favorable situations

as a teen and a young adult.

Add on to that coming out as a queer woman in a very homophobic country.

My therapist once jokingly said that I needed to pick a struggle.

(Laughter)

All of this is to say,

I really want to create a better transition process for young people,

because I truly believe that the more we talk about sex,

the safer and the better it'll be for everybody.

(Applause)

So in 2016,

I started a sex-positive podcast called "The Spread."

(Laughter)

Targeted at a pan-African audience.

I really wanted to create a safe space

where young people could openly talk about different aspects of their sexuality

without feelings of shame or judgment.

And it turns out people love to talk about sex.

(Laughter)

And I've had the great pleasure and honor

of answering a myriad of these questions about sex on my podcast,

such as, "My boyfriend says

that if we have sex and it's my first time and without a condom,

that I won't get pregnant.

Is this true?"

Of course it's not true.

Having sex without a condom poses great risk of not only getting pregnant

but contracting STIs.

Or, “I watch too much porn,

and I'm no longer aroused by my partner.

Am I broken?"

No, you're not broken.

But too much porn can desensitize you from real-life pleasures.

Or, "I'm 24 years old

and my friends make fun of me because I'm a virgin.

Should I have sex just to gain popularity?"

Absolutely not.

First of all, virginity is a social construct.

And I think you should have your sexual debut --

(Applause)

thank you --

when you’re good and ready to.

A lot of the time, we have a lot of fun on the podcast, honestly.

But sometimes it does get a little bit serious,

especially when it comes to one topic in particular:

consent.

These are some of the questions I receive.

"My husband insists on having sex with me even when I don't want to.

I've relayed my concerns.

He always responds with,

'You're my wife. It's your place to do so.'

How do I prevent this from happening?"

Or, "I went out last night and woke up this morning

next to the guy that was chatting me up.

I have no idea what happened, but I think we had sex.

What should I do?"

It's conversations like these

that reinforce the fact that people don't have the first clue

how to talk about consent.

So it's become my life's work

to create a curriculum to educate young people on consent.

Now the inspiration for this might surprise you,

but I got it in my 30s

after a visit to a BDSM dungeon.

(Laughter)

For those of you that don't know,

BDSM is a series of practices and erotic role play

that involve bondage, discipline,

dominance and submission and sadomasochism.

Now I know, a lot of people have a lot of misleading information

about the BDSM community,

but more often than not,

we create and curate safe spaces

with an array of toys and items for the kinky community to play with,

if they so please.

It's like a playground.

For adults.

(Laughter)

In BDSM, everything is negotiated before it happens.

And these are some of the rules and regulations

that would greet you upon entry.

One:

Do not touch anyone without asking.

Even a hug,

if you don't know somebody, is a bad move without permission.

Two:

Do not touch anyone's toys without permission.

If you're not sure if something is a toy, ask.

Three:

Consent can be withdrawn at any time during an activity.

And my personal favorite:

if consent is not given,

do not ask again.

Accept and respect a "no,"

as graciously as you would a "yes."

(Applause)

Now, in no way am I interested in teaching children BDSM.

(Laughter)

But BDSM, a community that is created strictly for adults

that people view as shameful and dangerous,

has better guidelines for learning about consent

than many homes or schools

in many parts of the world.

And like you've heard, these rules aren't specifically sexual,

but they can apply to sex.

I truly think that the strategy

to raising adults with healthy sexual behaviors

is to first teach kids about consent,

like, super early,

way before sex is even a topic of conversation.

Can you imagine having conversations with kids

and letting them know that everything about their bodies can be negotiated?

For example,

let them decide who they want to help them during bath time.

Or tell them

that they don't have to accept that kiss on the cheek from grandma.

Or tell them that they have to ask for a permission

before they play with somebody else's toy truck.

And let them know that they can say,

"Actually my pronouns are they/them,"

without feeling guilty.

(Applause)

It's these tools that will help keep our children safe

and respect people throughout their lives.

We have the power to shape the future.

The solutions are simple.

It's the patriarchy that's so damn difficult.

(Laughter)

(Applause)

So let's engage five, six or eight-year-olds

on conversation around consent

and bodily autonomy

as a function of affirming their humanity,

which in turn can look like adults having safe, healthy,

pleasurable and fun sex.

Because consent isn't just about sex.

It's first about communication and relationships.

Thank you.

(Applause)