AWID’s working languages are English, French and Spanish. Thai will be added as the local language, as well as sign language & other accessibility measures. Other languages may be added if funding permits, so check back regularly for updates. We care about language justice and will try to include as many languages as we can and as our resources allow. We hope to create multiple opportunities for many of us to be present in our languages and to communicate with each other.

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by Amal Amer, California, US

I pray with my family for the first time in six years while wrapped in a keffiyah I scavenged from a dumpster.

Since coming into myself, I have refused to pray in jamaat with my family. Joining in the ranks of hierarchy, “women” behind “men” irks me. It grates my skin and teeth to the degree where I can’t focus, and the standing, bowing, and kneeling feels like a battle against my true being. Each second listening, a betrayal of my nature. Instead, I pray by myself in my own way. 

Yet this Ramadan, I feel different. Back in my childhood home after many years, I am choosing to fast. I choose suhoor with my family, and praying together feels like a natural extension of eating together. After eating, my mother, father, brother and I line up for fajr. 

I pray behind Baba, but my prayer is my own. I close my eyes, staying with my breath and my body. 

My eyes closed, I open my inner sight to a wide open window on a vista of mountains, bright sun spreading over a light mist of clouds. This was the view I had while praying in jamaat at a queer Muslim wedding I attended in the mountains of the South of France last September. 

I lined up with the wedding guests, queer and trans folks of North and West African, Arab, and European descent. Folks of all faiths joined while some chose to stand in respect at the sides or behind. The groups did not fall along fault lines of “Muslim” or “non-Muslim,”  “religious” or “non religious.” The two lovers marrying each led us in prayer, and so did the Muslim woman officiating the nikkah. Each of the three led us in two rounds of prayers, two raqat.

I showed up as I was, my body uncovered. I had not washed. I only passed my camera to a friend who chose to stand at the side. 

In the first sujood, I broke down crying. I wore a jean dress that loves my body, one found at a thrift store my ex-girlfriend pointed me to.

The sobs come through my whole body during the prayer, and I put my head to the earth with my community like a homecoming. A return to the embrace of love both intensely personal and communal, and I am held.

It feels like swimming in the sea with multiple people:  joyful togetherness. But when you go beneath the water, it’s just you and the current. 

Like a dozen people buried in the same graveyard. Separate, but sharing the same soil. Becoming one with the growing earth. 

That was how it felt to pray in communion at a queer Muslim wedding.

I welcomed the light of acceptance while showing up as myself that day, with a group of people who had also chosen to claim all the parts of themselves in love. That light made a home in me, and it illuminates my heart in the dark living room at fajr this Ramadan morning. Though I pray with my birth family who do not accept all of me, I see myself praying in jamaat at that glorious wedding with all of my queer Muslim ancestors, my queer angels, my lineage, my soul family, my queer Muslim family, all standing in prayer. Bowing as one. 

My family’s home does not always feel like my own, though I am here now. I take the bukhoor from room to room, barefoot. Smolder from the censer, an incense that says, “Here I am.” Baraka, blessings from the source of all, Allah and the Goddess to each room in the house, bidding good and dispersing the unbidden. 

As I write this the sky turns the same royal blue I am familiar with from exiting the club and pulling all-nighters. It is the gradient of morning I step into as I go to sleep. 

Word meanings:

• Ramadan: the Muslim holy month, traditionally observed with 29 days of fasting without food or water during daylight hours

• Keffiyah: a patterned scarf common in the SWANA region. The black and white version referred to here is associated with the Palestinian liberation movement 

• Pray in jamaat: Islamic ritual prayer in a group. Participants follow one person, traditionally male, who calls the prayer aloud.

• Suhoor: the meal before the fast starts at dawn

• Fajr: the dawn prayer

• Baba: father

• Raqat: one round of prayer consisting of standing, bowing, kneeling, and pressing the head to the ground

• Sujood:the prayer position when one presses one’s head to the earth

• Nikkah: the religious marriage ceremony 

• Bukhoor: an Arabic incense, woodchips soaked in resin

• Baraka: blessing

“Angels go out at night too”

by Chloé Luu (@Electrichildren), France

Pictures of angels in my life, just some women and non-binary people of color hanging out, taking care of themselves and expressing love to each other. It's these simplest moments that are the most empowering.

< Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women

Kunyit Asam: The Roots of Love and Resilience >

 جديد

عبر الإنترنت وهجين

كمشارك/ة عبر الإنترنت، يمكنك توجيه النشاطات والتواصل والتحدث مع الآخرين/ الأخريات وتجربة الإبداع والفن والاحتفال بمنتدى جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية بشكل مباشر. سيستمتع المشاركون/ات المتصلون/ات عبر الإنترنت ببرنامج غني ومتنوع، بدءًا من ورشات العمل والنقاشات وحتى نشاطات الاستشفاء والعروض الموسيقية. ستركز بعض الأنشطة على التواصل بين المشاركين/ات عبر الإنترنت، وسيكون البعض الآخر هجينًا بالفعل، يركز على الاتصال والتفاعل بين المشاركين/ات عبر الإنترنت وأولئك الموجودين/ات في بانكوك.

we are infinite

An exhibition by Nicole Barakat, embodying her reconnection with the diaspora of objects from her ancestral homelands in the South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA) region.
 
Barakat presents a collection of textile works as manifestations of her practice of engaging with displaced, and often stolen objects held within Western museum collections including the Louvre, British Museum and Nicholson Museum. 
 
To by-pass the gatekeepers and breach the vitrines holding these ancestral objects, Barakat reclaims pre-colonial, non-linear, receptive forms of knowing that are often devalued and dismissed by colonial and patriarchal institutions - engaging with coffee cup divination, dream-work, intuitive listening and conversations with the objects themselves (source).

About Nicole Barakat

Jurema Araújo is a teacher-poet from Rio de Janeiro. She contributed to the magazine Urbana, edited by the poets Brasil Barreto and Samaral (RIP) and to the book Amor e outras revoluções (Love and Other Revolutions) with several other writers. In collaboration with Angélica Ferrarez and Fabiana Pereira, she co-edited O livro negro dos sentidos (The Black Book of Senses), a creative anthology on black women’s sexuality in Brazil. Jurema is 54-years-old; she has a daughter, three dogs, a cat, and many friends.

Introducing The Black Book of Senses

I’ll admit it: when Angélica and Fabi invited me to curate a collection of erotic texts by black women, I didn’t know what curatorship was. I understood the erotic well, but curatorship... I smiled, feeling shy and flattered. I think I thanked them – at least I hope I did – and thought to myself: what the fuck is it?! This fancy word I’ll have to learn the meaning of while doing it, what is it?

Now at this point, I know what it is to be a curator: it is making love with someone else’s texts, with someone else’s art, with the intention of putting a book together. And that is exactly what I did. I undressed each text of every author of this book with a literary lasciviousness. And I got involved in the words and senses of others. I was penetrated by poems I didn’t write; tales I didn’t even dare to imagine turned me upside down, messing with my feelings, with my libido. And it was a wonderful and unusual orgasm: ethereal, corporeal, sublime, at once intellectual and sensitive.
These texts pulsated like a clit hardened by desire, drenched, dripping joy in every reading. Words that swallowed me with their naughty significance, making me dive deeper into this wet universe. 

These black women went to the bottom of their arousals and turned their deepest erotic fantasies into art. These works are impregnated with each writer’s own way of experiencing sexuality: freely, blackly, for ourselves, in our own way, empowered.

I chose to spread the texts throughout different parts of the book, each one organized according to the most delicate, explosive, evident, or implicit content they presented.

To open the door to this “invulved blackessence,” we have our Preliminaries section, with texts that introduce readers to this world of delights. It is a more general, delicate caress to acknowledge the subjects addressed by the texts in the rest of the book.

Then comes the heat of Touch, addressing what the skin can feel. That energy which burns or freezes our bodies, makes our hormones explode and starts to awaken the other senses. And although there are many of us who are voyeurs, the contact of skin with a wet and warm mouth is exciting, like wandering through the softness of whomever is with you. We are seduced by the firm or gentle touch that gives us goosebumps and that lovely discomfort that runs from the neck down to the back and only stops the next day. And the warmth of the lips, the mouth, the wet tongue on the skin – oh, the tongue in the ear, hmmm – or skin on skin, clothes moving over the body, almost like an extension of the other’s hand. If there is no urgency, that wildest arousal of the pressure of a tight grab, a bit of pain – or a lot, who knows?

The Sound – or melody? – section shows us that attraction also happens through hearing: the voice, the whispers, the music that enables the connection between the bodies and can become the theme of desire. For some of us, someone with a beautiful voice would only need their vocal cords, because that harsh or heavy or melodious sound would be auditory sex. Their loud swearing or sweet words whispered in the ear would be enough to give us hair-raising shivers from neck to coccyx.

In Flavor, we know the tongue does a good job tasting the most hidden places and wandering through the body to delight itself. Sometimes this organ is used, boldly, to taste the other’s nectar. The idea of someone sharing their strawberry or a delicious, juicy mango through bites and licks – or licks and bites – melts us. But nothing is more delicious than tasting the caves and hills of the person you are with. Stick your tongue deep inside to taste a piece of fruit... or spend hours tasting the head of a cock in your mouth, or suck on a delicious breast to taste the nipples. This is all about memorizing someone by their Flavor.

There are texts in which the nose is what triggers desire. The Smell, my dear readers, can awaken us to the delights of desire. Sometimes we meet a person who smells so good, we want to swallow them right through our nose. When you run through the other person’s body with your nose, starting with the neck – wow, that delightfully uncomfortable shiver that runs down the spine and undresses the soul! The shameless nose then moves to the back of the neck and captures the scent of the other in such a way that in the absence of that person, smelling their same scent evokes, or conversely, invades in us olfactory memories that bring the arousing smell of that person back.

We then get to Look – for me, the betrayer of senses – in which we perceive desire from a point of “view.” It is through sight that the texts present desire and arousal, through which the other senses are brought about. Sometimes a smile is all it takes to drive us crazy. The exchange of glances? That look that says “I want you now.” That look of possession that comes to an end when you stop fucking, or not. That one is very particular; it draws the other who won’t be able to look away for long. Or the sidelong glance – when one looks away when the other turns their head, like a cat-and-mouse game? Once we are caught red-handed, there’s nothing else to do besides breaking into a wide smile.

Finally, the explosion. Wandering through All senses, the texts mix feelings that seem like an alert, so there is the greatest pleasure, that orgasm.

Of course, there is nothing explicitly separating these poems and tales. Some are subtle. Arousal engages all our senses and, most importantly, our heads. That’s where it happens, and it connects our whole body. I organized the poems according to how they came to me in each reading. Feel free to disagree! But to me, there is a sense through which desire goes and then explodes. Realizing which one it is, is delightful. 

Being able to turn arousal into art means freeing ourselves from all the prejudice, prisons, and stigma this white-centric society has trapped us in.

Every time a black writer transforms the erotic into art, she breaks these harmful racist chains that cripple her body, repress her sexuality, and turn us into the object of another’s greed. Writing erotic poetry is taking back the power over her own body and roaming fearlessly through the delights of desire for herself, for others, for life.

The literary erotic is who we are when turned into art. Here we show the best of us, our views of love drenched by pleasure, seasoned by the erogenous, spread through our bodies, and translated by our artistic consciousness. We are multiple and we share this multiplicity of sensations in words dripping with arousal. Yes, even our words drip with our sexual desire, drenching our verses, turning our sexual urges into paragraphs. To come, for us, is a breakthrough.

It is necessary to make our minds, bodies, and sexuality black, to reestablish our pleasure, and take back our orgasms. Only then will we be free. This whole process is a breakthrough, and it happens painfully. But there is happiness in finding ourselves to be very different from where we had been placed. 

I feel like I am yours, I am ours. Taste, delight yourselves, feast on these beautiful words with us. 

This text is adapted from the introductions to “O Livro Negro Dos Sentidos” [The Black Book of Senses], an erotic collection of poems by 23 black female writers.
 

Dear feminist movements, 

You welcomed us with open arms when it was announced during the 2016 AWID Forum in Bahia that we would be AWID’s new Co-EDs. It was a moment that felt full of possibility, we were building a feminist oasis that would help sustain our collective struggles forward. We left Bahia with a sharp sense of responsibility, to do our best in your service and to lead AWID in ways that would be most supportive and impactful for you.

It is now time for us to step aside for new leadership! 

Over five years into our journey, we are stepping down as AWID’s Co-EDs. Our decision comes as we wrap up the current strategic cycle. We see this as an ideal moment to step aside and support a leadership refresh. We believe that transformative feminist leadership is cyclical. 
We so appreciate the opportunity we had to play a role in AWID’s 40 year history, holding and shepherding the organization through the difficult context of global pandemic, and so many spiraling crises. 

Feminist movements, we know you will be part of our next journey, whatever that may be. You have consistently taught us about strength and resilience. We may move to different roles, but we will collectively continue to move together. 

How We Moved

We have vivid memories of those of you in Indonesia, Malaysia, Nepal, Thailand, Taiwan and beyond who met us to co-create the AWID Forum with so much generosity and spark. Without a doubt, our greatest regret from the last five years is that we could not give you an in-person Forum. 

Once we came to the difficult (albeit necessary) decision to cancel the AWID Forum, we focused on grappling with the existential questions so many of our organizations were facing: how do we shift our ways of working to be relevant, account for the exhaustion, sickness, and grief affecting all of us in different ways? How do we build meaningful relationships when we are limited to being online? There are still no straightforward answers to these questions, but feminist movements, you have shown the way. 

We were so proud to see the ways feminists were leading responses to mitigate the impacts of COVID-19 on our communities. Feminists are frontline responders in crisis and we will continue to demand recognition and resources for this work. You often responded enthusiastically to our outreach, showing up in amazing ways in our Feminist Bailout campaign and later in the Crear Resister Transform festival. You jumped into collaborative advocacy with us – whether influencing human rights spaces, policy makers or funders. 

We give a special shout-out of love and respect to the current and former AWID team (both our staff and Board members) whom we’ve had the honor to work with over these years. We’ve learned from each one of you and felt deep gratitude for everything you have contributed to AWID over the years. 

We came into this role as AWID’s first pair of Co-Executive Directors. We learned from the many activist and community traditions of collective leadership and the feminist organizations who had done this before us. We know that we couldn’t have done this job without each other. We were able to leverage each other’s strengths and have each other’s backs to do the best job we could.    

What’s Next

We came into role together and are leaving together, even as we will be staggering our departure dates. We are both committed to supporting a smooth transition and deliberate onboarding of the new leadership this year.  

Feminist movements, you are in great hands with the AWID team. They’ve got this. And we are proud to be leaving the organization in such a strong and resilient place. Hopefully, we’ll see many of you at the AWID Forum in 2024 – you’ll recognize us as the kicked back, relaxed folks in the audience!
Love and appreciation for all that you’ve done with and for us. Your impact on our lives stretches well beyond the last 5 years, and no doubt will continue to stretch far into the future.

Cindy & Hakima

2-5 ديسمبر 2024، بانكوك، تايلاند! سنجتمع في مركز الملكة سيريكيت الوطني للمؤتمرات (QSNCC) وكذلك افتراضيا عبر

Dearest Feminist community,

I am pleased to share with you one of my remarkable dates as feminist with disability. It was May 30, 2014 when we (the Nationwide Organization of Visually-Impaired Empowered Ladies NOVEL) participated in the Philippine Fashion Week Holiday 2014 for our white cane advocacy campaign.  Two ladies who are blind walked down the catwalk to promote the white cane as one of the symbols of gender equality, empowerment, full inclusion and equal participation of women and girls with visual impairment in society. 

Their walk in front of the crowd were extremely a nerve-wracking experience for me, as the proponent of our project with the Runway Productions (I enduringly waited for a year for its approval), knowing that they were not models, they were the crowned Ms. Philippines Vision and 1st Runner Up of 2013 Ms. Philippines on Wheels, Signs and Vision by Tahanang Walang Hagdanan, Inc. (House with No Steps). Also, they fell on their orientation and practiced the evening before the event and they didn’t have practice with professional models. Before the show started, I talked to them via mobile phone to boost their confidence and to pray together for God’s guidance. When they exited the catwalk, I breathed deeply while my tears were flowing. I was feeling euphoric because we did it despite the challenges we’ve been through! Our message to the world that women and girls with visual impairment can walk with dignity, freedom and independence on an equal basis with others, with the use of our assistive device - white canes was successfully delivered! We trended in social media and we were featured by television networks. 

My life as a feminist with disability started as a means to mend my broken spirit and to see a different path towards finding my life’s purpose after I became victim-survivor to a vicious acid attack in 2007  while I was waiting for a ride going home from office. My eyes were severely damaged, to the point that I became a woman with low vision.

I never knew how joyful and purposeful my life could be again until I met women leaders in the gender and disability movement who influenced me to keep going. Their words of encouragement attracted me and became the sweetest music to my ears. My broken heart leaped like a hummingbird in flight every time I think of them and feminism which stimulated me to partake in making difference for our invisible sisters with disabilities and to those who continue to experience discrimination. To date, I am consumed by the desire to be with the movement. I cannot hide my excitement whenever I submit project proposals to different stakeholders for our sisters with disabilities' empowerment, development and advancement; and to make representations in local, national and international conversations to amplify our voices even at my expense.

Unexpectedly, I was selected as our country’s female representative in the 2012 World Blind Union (WBU) General Assembly in Thailand even though I was a newcomer in the disability movement.  In the same year, I was elected as the only woman officer of the Philippine Blind Union (PBU) in its assembly. I was inspired to reach out, gather and empower our sisters with visual impairment on their rights and to know their intersecting issues. In 2013, we officially launched the Nationwide Organization of Visually-Impaired Empowered Ladies (NOVEL) to support the empowerment of our sisters with disabilities, build coalitions with cross-disability and women’s movements and promote gender and disability-inclusive development.

My participation as co-focal person of women with disabilities in our 2016 CEDAW Shadow Report submission convened by Women’s Legal and Human Rights Bureau (WLB) with the marginalized groups of women, opened many doors such as working with various women’s organizations and attending the 2017 Inclusion Days International in Berlin, Germany together with 3 Filipino women leaders with disabilities to share our good practices, mainly our engagement with the women’s movement in our country. 

My journey as feminist with disability has been an emotional roller coaster for me. It gave me  happiness and a sense of worth when I participated in promoting for our sisters with disabilities full inclusion, equal and effective participation in society, yet I felt frustrated and upset when I gave my all but I received negative remarks. Nevertheless, I feel that way because I am in love with the movement.    
I see my future working in solidarity with the movement to ensure that our sisters with and without disabilities can equally and fully enjoy and participate in society. 
 

Love lots, 
Gina Rose P. Balanlay
Feminist with disability
Philippines 

لا تقدم جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية خصومات جماعية، ولكننا نقدم خصومات التسجيل للأعضاء/ العضوات. (انقر هنا لمعرفة المزيد عن كيفية الانضمام)

The Forum was a key space for the Indigenous Women’s Movement (IWM) in its relationship to feminism. At AWID Forums, they developed engagement strategies that would then apply at other spaces like the United Nations. In that process, both indigenous women and feminists movements were transformed: new voices and issues emerged and feminists started to change their discourses and practices around land rights and spirituality, they understood collective rights better, and included the IWM in their events and agendas. Mónica Alemán and María Manuela Sequeira, from the IWM, shared this story of change.

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In their own voice: watch the interview with María Manuela Sequeira & Mónica Alemán