The film unfolds in a vibrant Bambara village in Burkina Faso, marked by termite mounds and a clay mosque, resembling a colossal hedgehog. This picturesque village symbolizes the essence of green Africa, serving as a living relic yet still vulnerable to the encroachments of the modern world.
Collé, the second wife of a thoughtful and composed man, enjoys a favored position among her husband's wives. Her daughter, Amasatou, is engaged but has not undergone the traditional female genital cutting, which poses a significant hurdle in her path to marriage as viewed by local customs. Collé stands firmly against this practice, drawing ire from the village elders, both men and women, who scorn her daughter for not conforming. Meanwhile, Amasatou feels pressured to undergo the procedure to secure her societal standing and marriage prospects, but Collé remains resolute in her stance.
When four frightened girls flee from the impending ritual, Collé symbolizes their hope by drawing a colorful protection rope, known as Moolaadé, across her family's threshold. This act of defiance effectively barricades the village elders—who have been searching for the fleeing girls—from entering her home.
Initially, Collé’s rival, the first wife, seems unsupportive; however, she later reveals her own opposition to genital cutting, secretly helping Collé all along. Confronted with Amasatou’s persistent pleas for circumcision, Collé recounts her painful past, emphasizing her desire to spare her daughter from the suffering she endured, which included two harrowing pregnancies that nearly cost her life.
In a poignant flashback, Collé's painful sexual encounters with her husband are depicted, showcasing her anguish as she silently bears the torment of her marital duties, a reflection of the larger patriarchal constraints on African women. As Collé’s daughter’s fiancé, Ibrahima, returns from France, he embodies the progressive voice challenging the traditions of his native village. He is horrified to witness a funeral for two young girls who took their own lives to escape genital mutilation. Despite familial pressures urging him to abandon Amasatou, Ibrahima stands firm, declaring his commitment to her, despite her perceived "impurity."
The women of the village find solace in their radios, which broadcast music and news from beyond their community—items the male elders deem dangerous. In a display of control, the elders demand that Collé's husband, Ciré Bathiliy, shame her publicly, insisting that he whip her until she renounces Moolaadé. Under immense pressure, Collé refuses to yield, embodying strength against the cacophony of dissent from both men and women. Just when she appears on the brink of collapse, a merchant known as Mercenaire intervenes.
Mercenaire, a savvy war veteran turned trader, berates Ibrahima and his family, indirectly revealing the underlying issues of child abuse tied to marrying young girls who have undergone genital cutting. His presence only complicates matters further, as he tries to sell brightly colored plastic goods to the villagers at exorbitant prices. Ultimately, however, Mercenaire faces dire consequences for his actions and is eradicated from the village.
As chaos unfolds, one desperate mother abducts her daughter in hopes of having her genitals cut, resulting in the child's tragic demise during the procedure. This calamity ultimately catalyzes a shift in perception among the other mothers, sparking a movement against female genital cutting. Encouraged by this change, Collé revokes her previous protection, returning the girls to their families.
The villagers eventually unite against the oppressive traditions, pledging to end genital cutting. Collé boldly calls for the surrender of the knives used for this practice, symbolizing a significant victory over the age-old customs. Ibrahima, emboldened by his love for Amasatou, confronts his father defiantly, declaring his intent to marry her despite familial threats. The movie concludes with the powerful image of radios ablaze, representing both the triumph of voicing dissent and the threat of silencing.
