Esther Kingambo

Getting your period in my country is regarded similarly as being cursed or having a terrible sickness which led to the ostracism of women from their communities, families etc. for a couple days. Girls weren’t allowed to cook for their fathers and brothers, go to church, play with their male friends and much more which to me seemed completely normal at the time. Periods were also associated with sorcery and curses, which led to menstruating women being seen as harbingers of misfortune.  As a result, I grew up ashamed of my own biology, terrified that mentioning my period would lead some to believe I was sexually active at a young age. 

The struggle I faced in accepting my body and who I was has had a lasting impact on me. It fueled my fascination with fashion design and tailoring. The irony was that our clothes, which I found so beautiful, were made locally by those at the margins of society. Our tailors were the old women, the mentally impaired and the physically weak. And yet, no matter how much I appreciated this art form, I never would have imagined having a career in modeling or fashion. Women with such ambitions were seen as shameful and indecent in a society where the patriarchal mindset was imposed on us. The only hope to change this was through education. Unfortunately, it was a luxury most of us couldn’t afford as members of a small rural community in southeastern Congo. All the big schools were located in the urban centers, with only a handful of children being allowed to go to school. The high tuition prices and lack of accessibility formed insurmountable obstacles for poor village people. For large families, this meant having to choose one child to send to school who carried on his shoulders the hopes of his family. With gender roles still playing a large role in our communities, more often than not, it was the boys who were sent to school. Us girls had our lives decided for us; we were meant to be married off and be good housewives, and for that, no school was necessary.

I was very lucky because my father was the village chief and grew up aware of the importance of education. My mother also played a big role in shaping me into the woman I would become and with my father made sure we'd get the best education possible. He was set on sending me and my siblings to school where I ended up studying children's education, and later got a degree in nursing because I wanted to help people.  I eventually ended up moving to Belgium in 2010 with my husband and started working as a nursing assistant for disabled children. There, I had some friends who managed to convince me to participate in the Top Model Belgium 2016 competition, where I ended up first place. This was the kickstart to my modeling career and has brought me incredible satisfaction in life. As of 2018 I live in New York City with my husband and two girls where I still have my modeling career and became a Beauty Ambassador. Nevertheless, I still cared about people’s health and couldn’t forget about that Congolese village I left behind me many years ago. I made myself the promise to come back and help my fellow mothers, daughters and sisters and make sure the next generations don’t face the same obstacles we did. To provide them with a healthy way of managing menstruation and an adequate quality of life , I decided to launch the NGONDA Foundation. NGONDA – which means moon in Gipende, my native language – is a non-profit organization which will focus on the local production of cheap and durable period products to contribute to their economy and keep them independent of outsiders. I chose the name NGONDA because women’s menstrual cycle is synchronized with the lunar cycle and, just like the non-profit, the moon provides light even during the darkest of times.