I picked out a basket at Macy’s and read the name of the artist to Rwanda’s master weaver, Janet Nkubana.
The weaver’s name was sewn to the inside of the basket.
Who is the woman who wove this, I asked?
Janet looked at the name and laughed.
The weaver of this basket was not a woman. It’s a man.
“We had men who had no jobs,” she tells me. “A few men said can we join the women?” This weaver, this man, said: “I don’t mind. I’m a very poor person. I want to be a part of your group.”