In search of equity – personal reflections on my place in the world

My father, a Black Nigerian man, told me every day that I was clever and I could be anything I wanted to be, so of course I am an engineer like him, as is my only brother. My sisters are a doctor, dentist and accountant, respectively. He delivered equity.

My head of department in my first degree wasn’t too keen on women on his course. He didn’t really think that industrial chemistry was suitable for women. I wound him up occasionally by turning up for labs in trailing braids and high heels, but he did his best to get all of us through his course. There were no acronyms to describe EDI then (the early 1980s), but he delivered equity, and I qualified despite my high heels.

“As for my category – Black woman – we still don’t get ‘seen’. Despite my now-grey hair, I still get mistaken for the hired help at professional functions”

My master’s degree was a breeze. No one paid any attention to my gender or race and I qualified alongside everyone else.

Then it was time to interviews for jobs with my newly minted qualifications. The faces when this little brown slip of a female turned up to be a process engineer were very funny. Ultimately, I had to go to Nigeria to get a job. No equity.

I worked for Shell, and had to give that up when I couldn’t be provided with safety shoes in size 4.5. No equity.

I joined a merchant bank and my managing director (God rest his soul) told me: “If you can think it, we can do it.” We set up an investment company and associated companies in the oil sector and they go from strength to strength. Total empowerment equitably delivered.

I returned to the UK in 2000, this time as a mother. There was no space in the oil industry or banking, but they took me in regeneration, so that’s where I have been since, trying to find equity for myself, my children, my community, my clients and employers.

I have eagerly embraced the space offered by Black History Month and International Women’s Day to make a difference. I’ve chaired boards, organised events and conferences, asked colleagues to make space and sign pledges to be more inclusive. I have mentored and reverse mentored.

Has it made a difference?

Honestly, not really. Victories take a long time, and are a collective effort. It’s taken until 2023 to outlaw child marriage in the UK. Across the world, we still think women are somehow less, and endlessly legislate for what we can and can’t do. Our concerns are never top of the list, even though we make up at least half of the population of the world and it is women who deliver the next generation – the future of the world.

“Will I give up? Definitely not”

As for my category – Black woman – we still don’t get ‘seen’.

Despite my now-grey hair, I still get mistaken for the hired help at professional functions. The attention only turns to us when it is entirely negative. Anyone who escapes that is a unicorn.

We are the repository of a special brand of disempowerment, because we are not actually allowed to use our voices, or we will be seen as aggressive, as is our tone.

We are useful for doing the work of raising organisations’ profiles in the EDI stakes, but the kudos and usually payment goes to someone else. Heaven forfend we demand to be paid.

Will I give up?

Definitely not.

I want a better world for my children and grandchildren.

I will mentor my young and not-so-young ladies to use their voices, and I will continue to make noise on their behalf.

I will join with my service organisation and my community of faith to make a difference, however small.

I will continue to look for equity.

Yemisi Morgan-Raiwe, interim Banbury programme manager, Cherwell District Council