Mass demonstration in Madrid on International Women's Day
Multitudinaria manifestación en Madrid en el día internacional de la mujer
Priority Areas
Supporting feminist, women’s rights and gender justice movements to thrive, to be a driving force in challenging systems of oppression, and to co-create feminist realities.
Across the globe, feminist, women’s rights and gender justice defenders are challenging the agendas of fascist and fundamentalist actors. These oppressive forces target women, persons who are non-conforming in their gender identity, expression and/or sexual orientation, and other oppressed communities.
Discriminatory ideologies are undermining and co-opting our human rights systems and standards, with the aim of making rights the preserve of only certain groups. In the face of this, the Advancing Universal Rights and Justice (AURJ) initiative promotes the universality of rights - the foundational principle that human rights belong to everyone, no matter who they are, without exception.
We create space for feminist, women’s rights and gender justice movements and allies to recognize, strategize and take collective action to counter the influence and impact of anti-rights actors. We also seek to advance women’s rights and feminist frameworks, norms and proposals, and to protect and promote the universality of rights.
Our actions
Through this initiative, we:
Build knowledge: We support feminist, women’s rights and gender justice movements by disseminating and popularizing knowledge and key messages about anti-rights actors, their strategies, and impact in the international human rights systems through AWID’s leadership role in the collaborative platform, the Observatory on the Universality of Rights (OURs)*.
Advance feminist agendas: We ally ourselves with partners in international human rights spaces including, the Human Rights Council, the Commission on Population and Development, the Commission on the Status of Women and the UN General Assembly.
Create and amplify alternatives: We engage with our members to ensure that international commitments, resolutions and norms reflect and are fed back into organizing in other spaces locally, nationally and regionally.
Mobilize solidarity action: We take action alongside women human rights defenders (WHRDs) including trans and intersex defenders and young feminists, working to challenge fundamentalisms and fascisms and call attention to situations of risk.
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$2.7 trillion for the military. $300 billion for climate justice. We're here to flip the script.
We take a position in solidarity with each other and diverse struggles for justice and freedoms. We strive to mobilize and strengthen collective action and practice meaningful ways of working with each other.
Memory as Resistance: A Tribute to WHRDs no longer with us
AWID’s Tribute is an art exhibition honouring feminists, women’s rights and social justice activists from around the world who are no longer with us.
In 2020, we are taking a turn
This year’s tribute tells stories and shares narratives about those who co-created feminist realities, have offered visions of alternatives to systems and actors that oppress us, and have proposed new ways of organising, mobilising, fighting, working, living, and learning.
49 new portraits of feminists and Women Human Rights Defenders (WHRDs) are added to the gallery. While many of those we honour have passed away due to old age or illness, too many have been killed as a result of their work and who they are.
This increasing violence (by states, corporations, organized crime, unknown gunmen...) is not only aimed at individual activists but at our joint work and feminist realities.
The stories of activists we honour keep their legacy alive and carry their inspiration forward into our movements’ future work.
The portraits of the 2020 edition are designed by award winning illustrator and animator, Louisa Bertman.
AWID would like to thank the families and organizations who shared their personal stories and contributed to this memorial. We join them in continuing the remarkable work of these activists and WHRDs and forging efforts to ensure justice is achieved in cases that remain in impunity.
“They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.” - Mexican Proverb
The Tribute was first launched in 2012
It took shape with a physical exhibit of portraits and biographies of feminists and activists who passed away at AWID’s 12th International Forum, in Turkey. It now lives as an online gallery, updated every year.
Nana Adjoa Sifa Amponsah, una joven de Ghana, sueña con «una sociedad en la que las jóvenes que se gradúan sientan orgullo de ser 'agroemprendedoras' a cargo de emprendimientos agrícolas y en la que haya una buena relación precio-calidad para los productos de la agricultura a pequeña escala».
Nana confía en que las agroemprendedoras lograrán influir sobre la economía de Ghana e impulsarla, «produciendo alimentos saludables y campesinas ricas».
«Creo firmemente que si hay un sector que puede ayudar a reducir cinco de los problemas más urgentes del mundo —desempleo, inseguridad alimentaria, pobreza, hambre y desnutrición— es la agricultura».
Emprendedora social certificada por el Institute of Social Entrepreneurs [Instituto de Emprendedores Sociales, ahora conocido como Kanthari], Nana tiene experiencia directa de campo en seguridad alimentaria, gestión estratégica y agricultura adquirida en África, Asia y Europa. Con los años, Nana se ha convertido en una experta en gestión de proyectos y ha generado muchos proyectos y programas que ayudan a generar cambios duraderos. También está capacitada en movilización de recursos y en planificación de eventos y proyectos.
En la actualidad, Nana es la Presidenta de Direct Impact Foundation [Fundación Impacto Directo], una organización con sede en Ghana que se propone cerrar la brecha educativa entre las zonas rurales y las urbanas. También es la creadora de Guzakuza, un emprendimiento social que combina la agricultura y el espíritu emprendedor para generar mentalidades agroemprendedoras. Guzakuza es una palabra suajili que significa «cultivar para cambiar vidas». Para Nana, se trata de un enfoque para hacer frente a los problemas más urgentes, al que por su sigla en inglés ella llama ‘la solución ACT’ (incidencia , cooperativas y capacitación).
«La pregunta más importante que hago todo el tiempo es ¿cuál sería el cambio más profundo? ¿Cómo vamos a alimentar a una población que se estima será de 9 mil millones en 2050 si somos todas abogadas, médicas e ingenieras?»
Nana está afiliada a AWID desde comienzos de 2014. Le gusta viajar, escribir y cocinar, y le apasionan la fotografía y la agricultura.
Escucha su “Dream Speech” [Discurso sobre mi sueño] (en inglés) en el que podrás encontrar más información sobre la ‘solución ACT’.
"Nuestra voz” para promover el bienestar social, cultural y económico de las mujeres y las niñas
La Floraison fue fundada en 2008 y su misión es movilizar, reunir y brindar apoyo a mujeres jóvenes activistas por los derechos humanos en el territorio de Fizi[1] –un área rural de la provincia de Kivu del Sur en la República Democrática del Congo– con el propósito de fomentar el bienestar social, cultural y económico de estas jóvenes. Su misión forma parte una visión más amplia para el surgimiento de un nuevo grupo de jóvenes preocupadas por su desarrollo y firmemente decididas a convertirse en agentes de progreso sociocultural y económico en su entorno. Así surgió el eslogan “Mujeres jóvenes al servicio de la comunidad”, que ha sido parte de la asociación desde su lanzamiento.
“Sacrifiqué todo mi tiempo para servir a las personas más vulnerables, en especial a las mujeres víctimas de violencia sexual”, Magdeleine Rusia Abwe, asistente psicosocial de uno de los proyectos de La Floraison.
La organización trabaja desde un enfoque al que denomina “Nuestra voz” y que incluye la concienciación y la información a través de una radio, un grupo de teatro y un periódico comunitarios, así como la incidencia y la movilización de recursos para los grupos de mujeres. ‘Nuestra voz’ es prueba de nuestro apoyo y compromiso con la construcción de un mundo sin violencia”, afirma Loy Honore, fundadora de La Floraison.
Un centro de atención para sobrevivientes de violencia sexual y de género
Desde hace tres años, La Floraison apoya la atención psicosocial y la reintegración socioeconómica de las mujeres y las niñas sobrevivientes de violencia sexual y de género en centros de salud de Nemba, Katenga y Rubana, en el territorio de Fizi. A través de los centros de atención, el proyecto busca informar a las comunidades sobre la violencia sexual contra las mujeres y las niñas, los servicios disponibles y los derechos de las mujeres y su implementación legal. La iniciativa se propone también asesorar a las víctimas, derivarlas a servicios médicos y de apoyo legal y asegurar su reintegración económica a través de las Asociaciones Aldeanas de Ahorro y Préstamo, a la vez que fortalece el activismo comunitario contra la violencia de género.
Además de documentar, asesorar, apoyar y derivar a las sobrevivientes de violencia sexual y de género, La Floraison media entre las sobrevivientes que han sido rechazadas y sus familias. Como complemento, el proyecto incluye la divulgación entre la comunidad sobre la violencia sexual y de género a través de la creación de comités de vigilancia y alerta, la resolución de conflictos sociales y comunitarios y la promoción y defensa de los derechos de las mujeres.
“A través del grupo encontré algo más valioso que el dinero: ¡la solidaridad!”
Una joven burundiana de 17 años sobreviviente de violencias y beneficiaria del apoyo de La Floraison, cuenta su historia:
“A los 15 años di a luz a mi primer hijo con un viejo buen cliente que le ofreció una vaca a mi madre. La brutalidad de ese viejo borracho –me propinaba golpizas y amenazas de muerte– no daban un momento de paz en el hogar. Volví a la casa de mi madre, pero ella no aprobó mi comportamiento. En octubre de 2013, un congoleño mucho mayor que yo, de más de 49 años, planteó la necesidad de llevarme con él a la República Democrática del Congo. Mi madre dio su permiso para el matrimonio sin consultarme y el pretendiente entregó 3 cabras y 2 pares de taparrabos[2] como dote.
Cuando llegamos a la RDC, descubrí que él tenía tres esposas y que yo me había converitdo en la cuarta; él tenía hijos mayores que yo. Al cabo de un mes las tres primeras esposas no me querían en la parcela de tierra. El esposo me abandonó sin ningún apoyo. Fui a ver al jefe de la aldea pero estaba la barrera del idioma. Sin comida ni medios de superviviencia, empecé a cultivar para otras personas para poder comer. Cuando mi esposo se enteraba de que yo estaba trabajando para alguien, venía y los amenazaba diciendo que yo era su esposa y que nadie podía usarme sin su consentimiento. Yo no entendía nada porque todo sucedía en un idioma que no comprendo. Muchas personas tenían miedo de darme trabajo. Un día, tres hombres llegaron a mi hogar desprotegido alrededor de la medianoche. Me violaron uno a uno. Uno de ellos oyó mis gritos en kirundi –él también era de Burundi– y le pidió a sus amigos que me dejaran vivir. Me aconsejó que huyera porque mi esposo planeaba matarme. Por la mañana, los vecinos vinieron a rescatarme.
No Ie dije a nadie lo que me había sucedido esa noche –la violación– porque de acuerdo con nuestras costumbres, si los demás saben que has sido violada, ya nadie querrá casarse contigo. A la luz de estas amenazas, el jefe de la aldea me llevó a su casa y la policía empezó a investigar. No era fácil ayudarme porque estaba en la RDC ilegalmente, pero empezaron a buscar a mi esposo. Mi vida se volvió muy difícil porque para sobrevivir había vendido todo lo que tenía, y también las cosas de mi hijo. Le pedí al jefe de la aldea que me enviara a Burundi. Eso costaba más de $30, y no era fácil.
Un día, una mujer que trabajaba en el centro de salud vino a verme y me dijo que fuera al centro de salud para una cita privada. Yo tenía miedo, pero cuando llegué al lugar, ella me recibió con mucha amabilidad, me reconfortó, pero yo estaba muy conmovida y la reunión no pudo tener lugar a causa de mi llanto. Me dio una nueva cita, y esa vez le conté todo lo sucedido desde el principio en Burundi. También me vio la enfermera y fui a Sebele[3] para que me atendieran. Ella me ayudó mucho, con asesoramiento y visitas, aunque yo no hablaba swahili fluidamente. Yo iba a verla al centro de salud y un día fue conmigo a la estación de policía para ver cómo iba mi caso y le pidió al funcionario policial que facilitara mi repatriación a Burundi.
Ella también me recomendó que me uniera a un grupo de ahorro y crédito fundado en la aldea ya que así podría recibir un préstamo y hacer pequeñas transacciones comerciales. A través del grupo encontré algo más valioso que el dinero: ¡la solidaridad! No sabía que podría encontrar personas tan generosas a mi lado, en especial durante momentos tan duros. Recibí un pequeño préstamo de 16.000FC, que me permite vender pescado (12.000FC) y harina de maíz (4.000FC). Ya no moriré de hambre.
Mentalmente me siento bien, pero todavía necesito regresar a mi país a vivir con mi madre”.
[1] El territorio de Fizi incluye cuatro comunidades rurales, 27 grupos, 142 pueblos y 1634 aldeas. La infraestructura es insuficiente, en especial para la educación, la salud, el empleo, el transporte y la recreación. El área carece de electricidad y pocos hogares tienen acceso a agua potable y a saneamiento adecuado.
« Notre voix » pour améliorer le bien-être social, culturel et économique des femmes et des filles
Créée en 2008, La Floraison se donne pour mission de mobiliser, consolider et appuyer les énergies de jeunes femmes activistes des droits humains dans le territoire de Fizi[1], zone rurale de la province du Sud-Kivu en République démocratique du Congo, afin d’améliorer leur bien-être social, culturel et économique. Sa mission s’inscrit dans le cadre d’une vision plus globale de l’éclosion d’une nouvelle catégorie de jeunes femmes soucieuses de leur développement et résolument engagées à être des actrices de progrès socioculturel et économique dans leur environnement. C’est ainsi qu’est né le slogan « Jeunes femmes au service de la communauté », porté par l’association depuis sa création
« Je me suis sacrifiée à passer tout mon temps au service des vulnérables et surtout des femmes victimes de violences sexuelles», Magdeleine Rusia Abwe, assistante psychosociale dans le cadre d’un des projets de La Floraison.
L’organisation utilise une approche qu’elle intitule « Notre voix », qui va de la sensibilisation et l’information via une troupe théâtrale, un journal écrit et des radios communautaires, au plaidoyer et à la mobilisation des ressources de groupements féminins. « « Notre voix » est la preuve de notre souci et de notre engagement vers un monde sans violence », dit Loy Honore, Fondatrice de La Floraison.
Une maison d’écoute pour les survivantes de violences sexuelles et basées sur le genre
Depuis trois ans, La Floraison appuie la prise en charge psychosociale et la réinsertion socioéconomiques des femmes et des filles qui ont survécu aux violences sexuelles et basées sur le genre, dans les aires de santé de Nemba, Katenga et Rubana, en territoire de Fizi. Dans le cadre d’une maison d’écoute, ce projet cherche à informer les communautés sur les violences sexuelles faites aux femmes et aux filles, les services disponibles, les droits des femmes et leur cadre légal d’exécution, ainsi qu’à fournir aux victimes un accompagnement, une orientation vers des services de soutien médical et juridique et assurer leur réinsertion économique à travers des Associations Villageoises d’Epargne et de Crédit (AVEC), tout en renforçant l’activisme communautaire contre les violences basées sur le genre.
En plus des activités d’identification, d’écoute, de soutien et d’orientation des survivantes de violences sexuelles et basées sur le genre, La Floraison assure une médiation entre les survivantes qui ont été rejetées et leurs familles. De façon complémentaire, le projet comprend des activités de sensibilisation communautaire sur les violences sexuelles et basées sur le genre, la création et le renforcement de Comités d’Alerte et de Surveillance, la résolution de conflits sociaux et communautaires et la consolidation d’un plaidoyer en faveur des droits des femmes.
« Au sein du groupe, j’ai trouvé quelque chose qui dépasse même l’argent : la solidarité ! »
Une survivante burundaise de la violence, âgée de 17 ans et bénéficiaire de l’assistance proposée par La Floraison, raconte son histoire :
« A 15 ans, j’ai mis au monde mon premier enfant avec un vieux et fidèle client qui a proposé une vache à ma mère. Le comportement brutal de ce vieux soulard – coups, menaces de mort – n’a pas permis une entente dans le foyer. Je suis rentrée à la maison mais ma mère n’a pas été satisfaite de ma réaction. En octobre 2013, un vieil homme congolais âgé de plus de 49 ans a voulu m’amener avec lui en RDC, ma mère a donné son accord pour me marier sans me demander mon avis et le prétendant lui a remis 3 chèvres et deux paires de pagnes[2] pour ma dot.
Quand nous sommes arrivés en RDC, j’ai trouvé qu’il avait 3 femmes et que j’étais devenue la quatrième ; il avait des enfants plus âgés que moi. Après un mois, les trois premières femmes n’ont pas accepté que je reste dans la parcelle agricole. Le mari m’a abandonnée sans aucun soutien. Je suis allée voir le chef de village mais la communication a posé problème en raison de la différence de langue. Sans ration ni moyen de survie, j’ai commencé à cultiver pour les gens pour que je puisse manger. Quand mon mari apprenait que je travaillais pour quelqu’un, il venait le menacer en disant que j’étais son épouse et que personne ne pouvait m’utiliser sans son consentement. Je ne comprenais rien car tout se passait dans une langue que je ne comprends pas. Plusieurs personnes avaient peur de me faire travailler. Un jour, trois hommes se sont introduits dans ma maison non protégée vers minuit. Ils m’ont violée à tour de rôle. L’un d’eux a entendu mes cris en Kirundi – il était aussi burundais – et a demandé à ses amis de me laisser en vie. Il m’a conseillée de partir car mon mari avait l’intention de me tuer. Le matin, les voisins sont venus à mon secours.
Je n’ai dit à personne ce qui m’est arrivée cette nuit – le viol – car selon nos coutumes, si l’entourage apprend que vous avez subi le viol, personne ne peut plus se marier avec vous. Au vu de ces menaces, le chef de village m’a installée chez lui et la police est venue faire des investigations. Ça n’a pas été facile de m’assister car j’étais installée illégalement en RDC, mais ils ont commencé à chercher mon mari. Ma vie était devenue très difficile car j’avais déjà vendu tous les biens que j’avais pour ma survie et celle de mon enfant. J’ai demandé au chef de village de me faire partir au Burundi, il fallait plus de 30$, ce n’était pas facile.
Un jour, une femme travaillant au centre de santé est venue me chercher et m’a demandé de venir au centre de santé pour un entretien en privé. J’avais peur, mais lorsque je suis arrivée sur le lieu, elle m’a très bien accueillie, elle m’a rassurée, mais l’émotion était si grande que les pleurs n’ont pas permis un entretien libre. Elle m’a donnée un nouveau rendez-vous et cette fois-là, je lui ai révélé tout ce qui m’est arrivée à partir du Burundi. L’infirmier m’a aussi reçu et je suis allée à Sebele[3] pour les soins. Elle m’a beaucoup aidée par des conseils et des visites, même si je ne parle pas convenablement le Swahili. Je passais la voir au centre de santé et un jour elle m’a accompagnée au poste de la police pour suivre le déroulement de mon dossier et a demandé à la police de faciliter mon rapatriement vers le Burundi.
Elle m’a aussi conseillée de rejoindre un groupe d’épargne et crédit créé dans le village pour que je puisse bénéficier du crédit pour me permettre de mener des petites activités commerciales. Au sein du groupe, j’ai trouvé quelque chose qui dépasse même l’argent : la solidarité ! Je ne savais pas que je pouvais trouver des personnes généreuses à mes côtés surtout pendant ces moments de dures épreuves. J’ai eu un petit crédit de 16000FC qui me permet de commercialiser les fretins (12000FC) et la farine de maïs (4000FC). Je ne peux plus mourir de faim.
Mentalement je me sens bien, mais j’ai encore besoin de regagner mon pays pour vivre avec ma mère. »
[1] Le territoire de Fizi comprend quatre collectivités rurales, 27 groupements, 142 localités et 1.634 villages. Ses structures de base sont en mauvais état, notamment pour l’éducation, la santé, l’emploi, les transports et les loisirs. La région n’est pas électrifiée et peu de ménages disposent d’un accès à l’eau potable et aux infrastructures hygiéniques appropriées.
“Our voice” to advance the social, cultural and economic well-being of women and girls
Founded in 2008, La Floraison’s mission is to mobilize, convene and support young women human rights activists in Fizi territory[1], a rural area in the South Kivu province of the Democratic Republic of Congo, to advance their social, cultural and economic wellbeing. Its mission is part of a broader vision for the emergence of a new group of young women concerned about their development and resolutely committed to becoming agents of sociocultural and economic progress within their environment. This brought about the slogan “Young women serving the community” which has been part of the association since its launch.
“I sacrificed all of my time to serve the most vulnerable, especially women victims of sexual violence,” Magdeleine Rusia Abwe, psychosocial assistant of one of the Floraison projects.
The organization uses an approach they call ‘Our Voice’ which ranges from awareness-building and information-sharing via a theatrical troupe, a newspaper and community radio, to advocacy, and mobilizing resources for women’s groups. ‘Our Voice’ is proof of our support and engagement toward a world without violence,” says Loy Honore, founder of La Floraison.
A counseling center for survivors of sexual and gender-based violence
For three years, La Floraison has supported the psychosocial care and socioeconomic reintegration of women and girls who are survivors of sexual and gender-based violence within the Nemba, Katenga and Rubana health centers in Fizi territory. Through the counselling center the project seeks to inform communities about sexual violence against women and girls, available services, and women’s rights and their legal implementation, as well as provide victims with counseling, referral to medical and legal support services and ensure their economic reintegration through Village Saving and Lending Associations (VSLA), while strengthening community activism against gender-based violence.
In addition to documenting, counselling, supporting, and providing referrals to survivors of sexual and gender-based violence, La Floraison mediates between survivors who have been shunned and their families. To compliment, the project includes community outreach on sexual and gender-based violence, creating and strengthening Committees for Surveillance and Alert, social and community conflict resolution, and women’s rights advocacy.
“Through the group, I found something worth more than money: solidarity!”
A 17 year old Burundian survivor of violence, and beneficiary of La Floraison support, tells her story:
“At 15, I gave birth to my first child with an old loyal client who offered a cow to my mother. The brutality of that old drunkard – beatings, death threats – wouldn’t allow for a moment’s peace at home. I came home but my mother wasn’t pleased with my behaviour. In October 2013, an old Congolese man, older than 49, presented the need to bring me to the DRC with him, my mother gave him her permission for marriage without asking me and the suiter gave 3 goats and 2 pairs of loincloths[2] as my dowry.
When we arrived in the DRC, I found out that he had 3 wives and that I had become the fourth; he had children older than me. After a month, the three first wives didn’t want me on the plot of land. The husband abandoned me without any support. I went to see the village chief but there was a language barrier. Without any ration or means of survival, I started to cultivate for people so that I could eat. When my husband learned that I was working for someone, he would come and threaten them by saying that I was his wife and that no one could use me without his consent. I did not understand anything because everything was happening in a language I don’t understand. Many people were scared to give me work. One day, three men came to my unprotected home around midnight. They raped me one by one. One of them heard my screams in Kirundi – who was also Burundian – and asked his friends to let me live. He advised me to leave because my husband was planning to kill me. In the morning, the neighbours came to my rescue.
I didn’t tell anyone what happened to me that night – the rape – because according to our customs, if others find out that you have been raped, no one can marry you any longer. In light of these threats, the village chief brought me to his home and the police came to investigate. It was not easy to help me because I was in the DRC illegally, but they began to look for my husband. My life became very difficult because I had already sold all of the goods I had for survival, and those of my child. I asked the village chief to send me to Burundi. That cost more than $30, it was not easy.
One day, a women working at the health centre came to look for me and asked me to come to the health centre for a private meeting. I was scared, but when I arrived at the location, she welcomed me very kindly, she reassured me, but I was so emotional and the meeting couldn’t take place because of all my crying. She gave me a new meeting, and this time, I told her everything that happened beginning from Burundi. The nurse also saw me and I went to Sebele[3] for care. She helped me a lot, with counselling and visits, even though I don’t speak fluent Swahili. I would go and see her at the health center and one day she came with me to the police station to follow-up on the progress of my case and asked the police officer to facilitate my repatriation to Burundi.
She also recommended that I join a savings and credit group founded in the village so that I could receive a loan to conduct small business transactions. Through the group, I found something worth more than money: solidarity! I didn’t know that I could find such generous people by my side, especially during such hardship. I received a small loan of 16,000FC, which allows me to sell fry (12,000FC) and corn flour (4,000FC). I can’t starve to death anymore.
Mentally, I feel good, but I still need to return to my country to live with my mother.”
[1] Fizi territory includes four rural communities, 27 groups, 142 towns and 1,634 villages. The infrastructure is in poor condition, particularly for education, health, employment, transportation and recreation. The area lacks electricity and few households have access to potable water and proper sanitation.
« Surmonter l'adversité et guérir de la douleur » - Iniobong Usanga
Iniobong, membre de l’AWID depuis janvier 2015, est citoyenne irlandaise et d’origine nigérienne. En 2001, elle est arrivée en Irlande après avoir été forcée de quitter le Nigéria suite à des violences domestiques, sexuelles et reproductives.
« Je pense que personne ne mérite d’être l’esclave de quelqu’un. Cela ne devrait arriver à personne. » dit-elle.
Au début, son arrivée en Irlande, comme demandeuse d’asile et fille mère, a été très difficile : « les gens vous jugent sans vraiment connaître votre situation », commente-t-elle. A force de détermination, Iniobong a achevé ses études secondaires et a occupé de nombreux postes rémunérés et bénévoles.
Pendant des années, Iniobong a gardé toute cette histoire d’abus et de départ forcé pour elle. Par crainte des réactions de sa famille et aussi parce qu’elle ne voulait pas qu’on la juge, qu’on la plaigne ou lui mette une étiquette. En 2014, Iniobong a choisi de rompre la loi du silence, pour elle, et aussi « pour toutes celles et ceux qui endurent ce qu’elle a vécu, pour les survivant-e-s, pour les personnes qui n’ont plus d’espoir et celles qui veulent prendre un nouveau départ.»
« Je suis reconnaissante d’avoir une voix et de pouvoir m’exprimer librement. »
Iniobong fait aussi entendre sa voix pour militer pour les droits des femmes et des enfants qui subissent eux-mêmes différentes formes de violence. Avec l’aide de quelques ami-e-s, elle a fondé “Amour et attention aux gens du monde entier” (Love and Care for People Worldwide), une organisation non-gouvernementale qui aide les femmes, les enfants et les jeunes ayant subi des abus, et souffrant de pauvreté et d’autres formes d’exclusion sociale. “Je voulais apporter de l’espoir aux gens et leur faire savoir que nous soutiendrons leur détermination.” L’organisation propose différentes activités qui permettent de renforcer la confiance en soi des enfants et des femmes, de les éduquer et de développer leurs compétences professionnelles.
« Je ne pourrais jamais brader mon bonheur. C’est mon bonheur. Je continuerai de vivre pour moi-même et non pour satisfaire les autres. »
Ecoutez Iniobong raconter son histoire avec ses propres mots (en anglais)
"Overcoming adversity and healing the pain" - Iniobong Usanga
Iniobong, an AWID member since January 2015, is an Irish citizen with Nigerian roots. In 2001, she migrated to Ireland because she was forced to leave Nigeria after experiencing domestic, sexual and reproductive abuse.
“I don’t think anyone should be put in that situation where they are a slave to someone…. It shouldn’t happen to anyone”, she says.
Her arrival to Ireland as an asylum seeker and a single mother was extremely difficult at the beginning.
“People judge you even without knowing your situation”, she says. But due to her determination, Iniobong completed post-secondary education and has since worked in different paid and voluntary positions.
For years Iniobong kept her experience of abuse and forced migration to herself. She feared her family’s reactions and did not want to be judged, pitied or labelled.
In 2014, Iniobong chose to break her silence.
She spoke out for herself but also “for people who are currently experiencing what I had gone through, for survivors, for those who have given up hope and those who want to make a fresh start.”
“I am grateful because I have a voice and I can use it freely.”
Iniobong also uses her voice to advocate for the rights of women and children who are facing different kinds of violence.
With the help of some friends, she founded Love and Care for People Worldwide, a non-governmental organisation that supports women, children and youth affected by abuse, poverty and other forms of social exclusion. “I wanted to offer people hope and make them know their determination combined with some support.” The organisation offers diverse activities to help strengthen children’s and women’s self-confidence, learning and vocational skills.
“I would not sell my happiness for anyone. I have to be happy for me. And not continue living my life to please every other person but me.”
"Superando la adversidad y sanando el dolor" - Iniobong Usanga
Iniobong es una ciudadana irlandesa con raíces nigerianas, que forma parte de AWID desde enero de 2015. Llegó a Irlanda en 2001 tras ser obligada a abandonar Nigeria por sufrir violencia doméstica, sexual y reproductiva.
“Nada justifica que una persona sea puesta en la situación de ser esclava de otra. Es algo que no debería sucederle a nadie, declara.
Su llegada a Irlanda como solicitante de asilo y madre soltera fue muy difícil al principio. Las personas te juzgan incluso sin conocer tu situación, afirma. Con determinación, Iniobong completó sus estudios superiores y ha realizado numerosos trabajos, tanto remunerados como voluntarios.
Durante varios años, guardó silencio sobre sus experiencias de abuso y migración forzada. Sentía temor de la reacción de su familia y no quería ser juzgada, etiquetada o que sintieran lástima por ella. En 2014, Iniobong decidió romper el silencio, lo hizo por ella misma, pero también por aquellas personas que ahora están sufriendo lo que yo sufrí, por las supervivientes, por quienes han perdido la esperanza y por quienes desean comenzar de nuevo.
“Agradezco tener voz y poder usarla con libertad."
Iniobong también usa su voz para defender los derechos de aquellas mujeres, niñas y niños que están viviendo algún tipo de violencia. Con la ayuda de algunas amistades, fundó Love and Care for People Worldwide (Amor y protección para las personas de todo el mundo), una organización no gubernamental que apoya a las mujeres, niñas y niños afectados por el abuso, la pobreza y otras formas de exclusión social. Quería dar esperanzas a la gente, que conocieran su valor y que tuvieran cierto apoyo. La organización ofrece distintas actividades para ayudar a fortalecer la confianza de las mujeres, las niñas y niños, sus habilidades para aprender y sus destrezas vocacionales.
“No vendería mi felicidad por nadie. Es por mí que debo ser feliz y no dejar de vivir mi vida por complacer a nadie que no sea yo.”
Escuche la historia de Iniobong con sus propias palabras. (en inglés)
Kindle for your feminist fire! Browse AWID’s research on funding, WHRDs, movement building, fundamentalisms, economic justice, feminist monitoring & evaluation and more
Today, a complex and evolving network of anti-rights actors is exerting more influence in international and regional spaces as well as domestic politics. Anti-rights actors are entering multilateral spaces (spaces where multiple countries come together for international collaboration) to transform and undermine them from the inside out. They employ a range of persuasive discourses to gain legitimacy, often co-opting the language of rights and justice to hide their true agendas.
This report is the second in a series on human rights trends reports produced by the Observatory on the Universality of Rights (OURs). As well as analysis of key anti-rights actors, discourses, strategies, and impacts, the report features inspiring short stories of feminist action, and knowledge-building exercises to help strengthen our collective resistance.
The effect on our rights has already been grave, but this is not a done deal. We can all play a part in resisting anti-rights agendas and reclaiming our rights.
بدأنا التخطيط لعدد المجلّة هذا مع نانا داركوا قُبيل مهرجان «ابدعي، قاومي، غيٍّري: مهرجان للحراكات النسوية» لجمعية «حقوق المرأة في التنمية» AWID، وانطلقنا وقتها من سؤالٍ هو بالأحرى ملاحظة حول حالة العالم، ورغبة في تغيير الاعتقادات السائدة: لماذا لا تزال جنسانيّاتنا وملذّاتنا تخضع للترويض والتجريم مع أنّه يتمّ تذكيرنا مراراً وتكراراً بأنّها لا تأتي بأيّ قيمة أو تطوّر؟ واستنتجنا أنّ جنسانيّاتنا، لمّا تتجسّد، فيها ما يتعارض مع النظام العالمي الذي ما زال يتجلّى من خلال ضوابط الحدود، والتمييز العنصري في توزيع اللقاح، والاستعمار الاستيطاني، والتطهير العرقي، والرأسمالية المُستشرية. هل يمكننا إذاً القول إنّ لجنسانيّاتنا قدرةٌ تعطيليّة؟ وهل يصحّ هذا القول عندما ننظر إلى واقع حركاتنا التي يتمّ الاستيلاء عليها ومأسستها في سعيها للتزوّد بالموارد؟
Sexting Like a Feminist: Humor in the Digital Feminist Revolution Snippet Small
Sexting Like a Feminist: Humor in the Digital Feminist Revolution
by Chinelo Onwualu
On September 2nd, 2021, the amazing feminist and social justice activists of AWID’s Crear | Résister | Transform festival came together not only to share resistance strategies, co-create, and transform the world, but also to talk dirty on Twitter.
Host: We tend to think about communicating desire as something that is limited to the private intimacy of the bedroom and our personal relationships. But can we also think of this kind of communication as a structure, a praxis that informs our work, and how we are, how we do in the world?
Lindiwe
I believe that unfortunately in the past, expressing your sexuality has been limited. You were allowed to express it within the confines of your marriage, which was permitted, there have always been taboo and stigmas attached to expressing it any other way. When it comes to communicating, obviously the fact that certain stigmas are attached to expressing your sexuality or expressing your desire makes it a lot harder to communicate that in the bedroom or intimately with your partner. From my personal experience, I do believe that obviously if I feel more comfortable expressing myself outside of the bedroom on other matters or other topics, it’s easier for me to build that trust, because you understand conflict resolution with that particular person, you understand exactly how to make your communication special towards that particular person. It’s not easy. It’s something that is consistently done throughout whatever your engagement is, whether it’s your relationship or whether it’s casual and just in the moment. But I believe that confidence outside can definitely translate to how you communicate your desire.
Manal
Since childhood, a woman is raised with that, “you’re not allowed to talk about your body, you’re not allowed to talk about your desire,” which puts a heavy responsibility on women, especially girls in their teens when they need to express themselves and talk about these issues. So for me I think this is a big problem. You know, I have been married for more than 25 years, but still, until now, I cannot talk about my desires. I cannot say what I want or what I prefer, because it’s like I’m not allowed to go beyond this line. It’s like haram, despite it being my right. This is the case for all my friends, they just can’t express themselves in the right way.
Louise
Personally, I find that expressing our desires, my desires, however that expression comes in hand, has to do with the other, and the gaze that the other would have on me. So this is also something that we can link to cinema. And the gaze I would have on myself as well: what I think I am as an individual, but also what society expects of me and my sexuality. In the past, I somehow did the analogy between what happens in the bedroom and what happens in the workplace, because there is sometimes this dynamic of power, whether I want it or not. And oftentimes, verbal communication is harder than we think. But when it comes to representation in film, that’s a totally different game. We are very far away from what I guess all of us here would like to see on screen when it comes to just communicating sexual desires inside or outside the bedroom.
Online and Embodied
Host: We can think about the digital world as embodied: while it might be virtual, it is not less real. And this was made clear in the context of AWID’s feminist realities festival, which took place entirely online. What does it mean then to talk about sexuality, collectively, politically, in online spaces? Do we navigate virtual spaces with our bodies and affects, and in this case, what are the different considerations? What does it do to communication and representation?
Lindiwe
Social media makes you feel community-based. When you express what it is that you want or like, there is someone who’s either going to agree or disagree, but those who do agree make you feel that you belong to a community. So it’s easier to throw it out into the universe, or for others to see, and potentially not get as much judgment. And I say this very loosely because sometimes, depending on what it is that you’re expressing, it either will get you vilified or celebrated. But when it comes to the bedroom, there is an intimacy and almost a vulnerability that is exposing you and different parts of you that is not as easy to give your opinion on. When it comes to expressing your desire, speaking it and saying it and maybe putting a Tweet or a social media post, or even liking and reading other communities that are same-minded is a lot easier than telling your partner, “this is how I want to be pleasured” or “this is how what I want you to do next,” because of the fear of rejection. But not only that, just the vulnerability aspect – allowing yourself to be bare enough to let the other person see into what you are thinking, feeling, and wanting – I think this is where the difference would come in for me personally. I feel it is a lot more community-based on social media, and it’s easier to engage in discourse. Whereas in the bedroom, you don’t want to necessarily kill the moment. But I think that also kind of helps you understand going forward, depending on the relationship with the person, how you would engage thereafter. So I always know that if I try to communicate something and I fail to do so in the moment, I can always try to bring it up outside of that moment and see what the reaction would be so I know how to approach it going forward.
Louise
You know the question in films is, I don’t know if the male gaze is done intentionally or not. Like we don’t really know that. What we know is that the reason why sexuality in general has been so heternormative and focused on penetration and not giving any space for women to actually ask for anything in films, is because most of the people who have been working in this industry and making decisions in terms of, you know, storytelling and editing have been white men. So rape revenge is this very weird film genre that was birthed in the 70s, and half of the story would be that a woman is being raped by one or multiple people, and in the other half, she would get her revenge. So usually she would murder and kill the people who have raped her, and sometimes other people next to them. At the beginning of the birth of this genre and for 30 years at least, those films were written, produced, and directed by men. This is why we also want so much representation. A lot of feminists and pioneers in queer filmmaking also used the act of filming in order to do that and to reclaim their own sexuality. I’m thinking about Barbara Hammer, who’s a feminist and queer pioneer in experimental cinema in the U.S. where she decided to shoot women having sex on 16mm, and by doing so reclaimed a space within the narrative that was exposed in film at that time. And there is also then the question of invisibilization: we know now, because of the internet and sharing knowledge, that women and queer filmmakers have been trying and making films since the beginning of cinema. We only realize it now that we have access to databases and the work of activists and curators and filmmakers.
Resisting Colonization
Host: And this opens up the conversation on the importance of keeping our feminist histories alive. The online worlds have also played a crucial role in documenting protests and resistance. From Sudan to Palestine to Colombia, feminists have taken our screens by storm, challenging the realities of occupation, capitalism, and oppression. So could we speak of communicating desire – the desire for something else – as decolonization?
Manal
Maybe because my village is just 600 residents and the whole village is one family – Tamimi – there are no barriers between men and women. We do everything together. So when we began our non-violent resistance or when we joined the non-violent resistance in Palestine, there was no discussion whether women should participate or not. We took a very important role within the movement here in the village. But when other villages and other places began to join our weekly protests, some men thought that if these women participate or join the protests, they will fight with soldiers so it will be like they’re easy women. There were some men who were not from the village who tried to sexually harass the women. But a strong woman who is able to stand in front of a soldier can also stand against sexual harassment. Sometimes, when other women from other places join our protest, they are shy at first; they don’t want to come closer because there are many men. If you want to join the protest, if you want to be part of the non-violent movement, you have to remove all these restrictions and all these thoughts from your mind. You have to focus on just fighting for your rights. Unfortunately, the Israeli occupation realizes this issue. For example, the first time I was arrested, I wear the hijab so they tried to take it off; they tried to take off my clothes, in front of everybody. There were like 300-400 people and they tried to do it. When they took me to the interrogation, the interrogator said: “we did this because we want to punish other women through you. We know your culture.” So I told him: “I don’t care, I did something that I believe in. Even if you take all my clothes off, everybody knows that Manal is resisting.”
Lindiwe
I think even from a cultural perspective, which is very ironic, if you look at culture in Africa, prior to getting colonized, showing skin wasn’t a problem. Wearing animal skin and/or hides to protect you, that wasn’t an issue and people weren’t as sexualized unless it was within context. But we conditioned ourselves to say, “you should be covered up” and the moment you are not covered up you are exposed, and therefore it will be sexualized. Nudity gets sexualized as opposed to you just being naked; they don’t want a little girl to be seen naked. What kind of society have we conditioned ourselves to be if you’re going to be sexualizing someone who is naked outside of the context of a sexual engagement? But environment definitely plays a big role because your parents and your grannies and your aunts say “no, don’t dress inappropriately,” or “no, that’s too short.” So you hear that at home first, and then the moment you get exposed outside, depending on the environment, whether it’s a Eurocentric or more westernized environment to what you are used to, then you are kind of free to do so. And even then, as much as you are free, there’s still a lot that comes with it in terms of catcalling and people still sexualizing your body. You could be wearing a short skirt, and someone feels they have the right to touch you without your permission. There is so much that is associated with regulating and controlling women’s bodies, and that narrative starts at home. And then you go out into your community and society and the narrative gets perpetuated, and you realize that you get sexualized by society at large too, especially as a person of color.
Resistance as Pleasure
Host: And finally, in what ways can our resistance be more than what we are allowed? Is there a place for pleasure and joy, for us and our communities?
Louise
Finding pleasure as resistance and resistance in pleasure, first for me there is this idea of the guerrilla filmmaking or the action of filming when you’re not supposed to or when someone told you not to, which is the case for a lot of women and queer filmmakers in the world right now. For example, in Lebanon, which is a cinema scene that I know very well, most of the lesbian stories that I’ve seen were shot by students in very short formats with “no production value” as the west would say – meaning with no money, because of the censorship that happens on an institutional level, but also within the family and within the private sphere. I would think that filming whatever, but also filming pleasure and pleasure within lesbian storytelling is an act of resistance in itself. A lot of times, just taking a camera and getting someone to edit and someone to act is extremely hard and requires a lot of political stance.
Lindiwe
I have a rape support group. I’m trying to assist women to reintegrate themselves from a sexual perspective: wanting to be intimate again, wanting to not let their past traumas influence so much how they move forward. It’s not an easy thing, but it’s individual. So I always start with understanding your body. I feel the more you understand and love and are proud of it, the more you are able to allow someone else into that space. I call it sensuality training, where I get them to start seeing themselves as not sexual objects, but as objects of pleasure and desire that can be interchangeable. So you’re worthy of receiving as well as giving. But that’s not only from a psychological point of view; it is physical. When you get out of the shower, you get out of the bath, and you’re putting lotion on your body, look at every part of your body, feel every part of your body, know when there are changes, know your body so well that should you get a new pimple on your knee, you are so aware of it because just a few hours ago it wasn’t there. So things like that where I kind of get people to love themselves from within, so they feel they are worthy of being loved in a safe space, is how I gear them towards claiming their sexuality and their desire.
Manal
You know we began to see women coming from Nablus, from Jerusalem, from Ramallah, even from occupied 48, who have to drive for 3-4 hours just to come to join the protests. After that we tried to go to other places, talk with women, tell them that they don’t have to be shy, that they should just believe in themselves and that there is nothing wrong in what we are doing. You can protect yourself, so where is the wrong in participating or in joining? Once I asked some women, “why are you joining?” And they said, “if the Tamimi women can do it, we can do it also.” To be honest I was very happy to hear this because we were like a model for other women. If I have to stand for my rights, it should be all my rights, not just one or two. We can’t divide rights.
«الآن قد يكون وقتًا مناسبًا لإعادة التفكير في الشكل الذي يمكن للثورة أن تتّخذه. ربما لن تبدو كمسيرةٍ من الأجساد الغاضبة والقادرة في الشوارع. ربما ستبدو وكأنّ العالم واقفٌ في ثباتٍ لأن جميع الأجساد الموجودة فيه منهَكة – حيثُ أنّه يجب إعطاء الأولوية للرعاية قبل فوات الأوان». - جوانا هيدفا
المستشفيات مؤسسات، ومواقع حيّة للرأسمالية، وما يحدث عندما يكون من المفترض أن يستريح شخصٌ ما ليس إلّا نموذجاً مصغّراً من النظام الأكبر. تَعمَد المؤسسات إلى فصلنا عن أنظمة رعايتنا – نَجِد أنفسنا معزولين في بُنى تراتبية راسخة، وغالبًا ما نشعر وكأنّ الرعاية هي شيء يُفعَل بنا بدلاً من أن تكون شيئًا يُعطى ويؤخَذ كجزء من محادثة. الرعاية المؤسسية معزولة بسبب اندماجها في الطلب الرأسمالي: شخص واحد يعالج رِجلك ورِجلك فقط، شخص آخر يعالج ضغط الدم وهكذا.
المستشفيات مؤسسات، ومواقع حيّة للرأسمالية، وما يحدث عندما يكون من المفترض أن يستريح شخصٌ ما ليس إلّا نموذجاً مصغّراً من النظام الأكبر. تَعمَد المؤسسات إلى فصلنا عن أنظمة رعايتنا – نَجِد أنفسنا معزولين في بُنى تراتبية راسخة، وغالبًا ما نشعر وكأنّ الرعاية هي شيء يُفعَل بنا بدلاً من أن تكون شيئًا يُعطى ويؤخَذ كجزء من محادثة. الرعاية المؤسسية معزولة بسبب اندماجها في الطلب الرأسمالي: شخص واحد يعالج رِجلك ورِجلك فقط، شخص آخر يعالج ضغط الدم وهكذا.
اضطرّت المصوّرة مريم مكيوي لإجراء عملية جراحية الشهر الماضي، ووثّقت هذا المسار. صورها للبيئات المعقّمة بألوانها الباهتة – أضواء نيون بيضاء وصفوف تلو صفوف من التكوينات المتكرّرة – تعكس مكانًا استُنزفت منه الحياة والحركة. كانت هذه إحدى الطرق التي حافظت بها مريم على بقاء روحها. لقد كان أحد أشكال الاحتجاج من داخل حدود مؤسسةٍ كان عليها التعامل معها.
تُشكّل الصور وصفًا لشيءٍ واهنٍ بشدّة، فمشاهدة شخصٍ ما وهو يعايش انهيار جسده هو دائمًا تذكير جليل بهشاشتنا. إنه أيضًا تذكير بهشاشة أنظمة الرعاية هذه، والتي قد تُمنَع عنّا لأسباب متعدّدة – بدايةً من عدم امتلاك الأموال وصولًا إلى عدم التواجد في جسدٍ يُعتبَر ذا قيمة كافية، فربما يكون أنثويًا أكثر مما ينبغي أو كويريًا أكثر مما ينبغي أو ملوَّنًا أكثر مما ينبغي.
الرعاية الانفرادية والمجرّدة من جوهرها والتي قد تُسلَب منّا في أي لحظة لا تساعدنا على الازدهار. وهي مختلفة تمامًا عن الطريقة التي يسلكها البشر عند رعاية بعضهم البعض. كم سيبدو عالمنا مختلفًا إذا التزمنا بتفكيك الهياكل الرأسمالية الحالية حول صحّتنا؟ كيف سيبدو إذا أعَدنا تخيُّلَه بشكل جذريّ؟