The sun has just started to rise over the neighborhood of Sahloul in Sousse. Sana gently nudges her younger daughter, who is reluctant to wake up. Walid is already in the kitchen with their older daughter. A glass of milk and notebooks are spread across the kitchen table where he is helping her finish her poetry assignment. Sana, Walid and their two girls are what could be called a “modern family.” The sharing of tasks doesn’t seem to present a problem for this couple, especially when it comes to taking care of the children. Every morning, they organize who does what: “Today, I’m picking up Baya because I finish earlier, but I’m going to send you the things that we need for school. We need to stop at the bookstore, and when you come home for lunch, don’t forget to hang the laundry, I just threw a load in!” says Sana. Looking up at the sky, she adds, “And don’t hang it on the balcony, it looks like it’s going to rain.” Walid quickly clears the table and washes dishes while Sana finishes getting the girls ready.
At 7am, everyone is out of the house. Baya will get dropped off at daycare, her older sister at school. “Since we both work, it only makes sense that I be as involved as my wife. I’ve always changed diapers, taken the kids to the pediatrician, bathed them…” explains Walid on the way to school. “But at night, it was always me who would wake up for the girls; when they’re sick, I stay home with them, I plan the activities and outings,” Sana points out.
“When a man takes on a few tasks, we get the impression that he does as much as his wife. What’s more, we’re supposed to commend them. We are very far away from sharing roles equally,” Sana observes.
According to a study by Oxfam [1], Tunisian women dedicate five to 12 hours a day to house chores, compared with 45 minutes for men! And while the Personal Status Code banned the legal obligation for a wife to obey her husband, it did not change the husband’s status as head of household (article 23).
For sociologist Hedia Bahloul, fathers today are “fathers in transition”: “They are between the authoritative father figure, a figure of the patriarchy, and the modern father who has definitively interiorized equality in roles,” she notes. We are gradually moving from the all-powerful father figure to co-parenting. In traditional family structures, the father embodies authority with regard to his children, and is the main provider for the household. The wife is responsible for raising the children and running the household. With women’s access to work and the decline of extended families, this model has been challenged, and fathers’ involvement in family life has become a necessity. For Bahloul, however, “this is an adjustment, not a cultural change.”
Economic considerations
Tunisian women account for 30% of the country’s workforce. To be sure, this percentage would be higher were the number of women employed in the informal sector accounted for. Is a father’s involvement in family life therefore simply a concession made on his part so that his wife can work and help to cover household expenses? “Even if the man is more present, taking the kids to school, for example, he still avoids certain chores which threaten his masculinity, as he remains, even unconsciously so, influenced by the patriarchal system,” Bahloul observes. “It will take a cultural revolution to shift people’s mentalities and move from the transitional father to the modern father,” she affirms. For it is often the economic dimension which determines the father’s role.
32-year-old Youssef is an example. Several years ago, Youssef became a stay-at-home father . “My wife went back to work when our son was six months old. At the same time, I lost my job,” he tells us. “It was winter, and instead of putting our son in daycare, I decided to take care of him while I was looking for work.” He continues, “I didn’t think I would stay with him until he was three years old. I did everything: changed diapers, prepared meals, bottles, I took him with me when I went out to see my friends, I even potty trained him—my wife couldn’t believe it!” he recounts. For Youssef, it became inconceivable that he would leave his son for work. He knew he would earn less than his wife, so why not reverse roles? “I never would have imagined that being a father could be a source of fulfillment. I was heartbroken the first time he went off to school.” And yet Youssef had to fight stereotypes—not only by his wife, but also by family and society in general. “For them, a man has no business being at home and taking care of his son. I was labeled a lazy husband who doesn’t want to work,” he says sadly. Many cling to the idea that certain chores are the mother’s sole responsibility. “When I take the kids to see the pediatrician, it’s funny to see mothers’ reactions; they are particularly attentive to my daughter, as if I couldn’t take care of her myself,” Walid remarks. Similarly, Youssef recalls:
When my wife went back to work and I found myself alone with my son, my sisters, mother, step-mother, neighbors, everyone mobilized to help me! Women are sometimes the first to perpetuate inequalities.
Emergence of a new father?
Do these young fathers herald a generation more involved in raising their children? Bahloul is not so sure, reiterating that, “these are economic, and not cultural, considerations which originally led this young father to stay with his son.” Responsibility for regulating the work-family balance still rests primarily on women’s shoulders. The example of Youssef, who takes care of things at home while his wife ensures household income is very uncommon among couples. Dynamics remain rigid and there is still a long way to go before fathers become more present in family life. Women are more constrained by their role as mother than men are by their role as father. Involved as he may be, the “transitional” father “will not sacrifice his professional ambitions to take care of the children, just as he will not participate in household chores except when he is moved to do so,” adds Bahloul.
It took several decades for the “traditional father” to evolve into the “transitional father.” How much longer before we see the emergence of the “new father”? Outside Baya’s daycare, mothers are bustling about. It’s time to go home, or to move on to after-school activities. What about the fathers? There are two in sight. “There are more in the morning,” Sana informs us. On the way back, there are several stops to make: the bookstore (“it’s easier if I go after all”), the produce stand (“we need some vegetables for dinner tonight”), and finally, the bakery. Sometimes, Sana is overwhelmed by the contradictory expectations of an ever-changing society. “I don’t know if I ask too much, or not enough of Walid!” In the kitchen, Sana moves from one task to another: putting away the groceries, starting dinner, and playing with Baya who is seated in a high chair. By the time Walid arrives home with their older daughter, everything will be pretty much done.
Who is at fault? Fathers who refuse to be involved? Mothers who don’t want to feel deprived of certain roles? A structurally unequal society? In August 2024, paternity leave increased from three to seven days. One paltry little week. Nevertheless, it is a sign that laws are changing. According to the National Multi-sectoral Strategy for Early Childhood Development [2], parent education programs must “strengthen the father’s role in early child development, establish a family culture of role sharing between parents, and create a peaceful and warm atmosphere within the family, free of violence.” The same source proposes that, “it is time to pursue a more global approach targeting all domains in the preparation of mothers and fathers alike, and to include interventions focused on the roles of both parents.” Until more concrete initiatives are undertaken by public authorities, the work of raising children and running the household remains women’s prerogative. Dismantling the figure of “moula eddar” [“head of the household”] entails deconstructing masculine norms. “I don’t know if I can do more than I already do now,” Walid recognizes. “It will take several generations to get rid of all the stereotypes instilled in us,” he says. And that’s putting it mildly. Today, the spheres occupied by men and women remain obstinately impervious.
[1] Et s’il y avait une grève dans les foyers? [And if a strike were held within the home?] Oxfam.
[2] National Multi-sectoral Strategy for Early Childhood Development.
Whatever the father role will evolve into, and however long it will take, the most important thing is that we evolve within the framework of our own roots, culture, social norms and define our own models either paternity or also the new maternal model as well. But in any case, it has to be our model not ones that are promoted by western NGOs or govts such as Oxfam and co. Unlike the old western models, the new western models are toxic and unhealthy. Their aim is the end of human reproduction with single parenting and homosexuality under the pretext of freedom and gender equality. I beg tunisian activists and organisations to be very careful with these gender programs funded by western actors. Their money comes with a hidden agenda, “faut lire entre leurs lignes”, “La route vers l’enfer est pavée de bonnes intentions” A bon entendeur