Guatemala - Rural Women Diversify Incomes and Build Resilience
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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.
Building Feminist Economies is about creating a world with clean air to breath and water to drink, with meaningful labour and care for ourselves and our communities, where we can all enjoy our economic, sexual and political autonomy.
In the world we live in today, the economy continues to rely on women’s unpaid and undervalued care work for the profit of others. The pursuit of “growth” only expands extractivism - a model of development based on massive extraction and exploitation of natural resources that keeps destroying people and planet while concentrating wealth in the hands of global elites. Meanwhile, access to healthcare, education, a decent wage and social security is becoming a privilege to few. This economic model sits upon white supremacy, colonialism and patriarchy.
Adopting solely a “women’s economic empowerment approach” is merely to integrate women deeper into this system. It may be a temporary means of survival. We need to plant the seeds to make another world possible while we tear down the walls of the existing one.
We believe in the ability of feminist movements to work for change with broad alliances across social movements. By amplifying feminist proposals and visions, we aim to build new paradigms of just economies.
Our approach must be interconnected and intersectional, because sexual and bodily autonomy will not be possible until each and every one of us enjoys economic rights and independence. We aim to work with those who resist and counter the global rise of the conservative right and religious fundamentalisms as no just economy is possible until we shake the foundations of the current system.
Our Actions
Our work challenges the system from within and exposes its fundamental injustices:
Advance feminist agendas: We counter corporate power and impunity for human rights abuses by working with allies to ensure that we put forward feminist, women’s rights and gender justice perspectives in policy spaces. For example, learn more about our work on the future international legally binding instrument on “transnational corporations and other business enterprises with respect to human rights” at the United Nations Human Rights Council.
Mobilize solidarity actions: We work to strengthen the links between feminist and tax justice movements, including reclaiming the public resources lost through illicit financial flows (IFFs) to ensure social and gender justice.
Build knowledge: We provide women human rights defenders (WHRDs) with strategic information vital to challenge corporate power and extractivism. We will contribute to build the knowledge about local and global financing and investment mechanisms fuelling extractivism.
Create and amplify alternatives: We engage and mobilize our members and movements in visioning feminist economies and sharing feminist knowledges, practices and agendas for economic justice.
“The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling – their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability. Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing”.
“But when was the master
ever seduced from power?
When was a system ever broken
by acceptance?
when will the BOSS hand you power with love?
At Jo’Burg, at Cancun or the U.N? – Molara Ogundipe
In an interview at the 2010 Ghana International Book Fair, Molara Ogundipe introduced herself with the words: “...I’m a Nigerian. I’ve lived possibly all over the world except for the Soviet Union and China.”
Across the different continents and countries, Professor Ogundipe taught comparative literature, writing, gender, and English studies using literature as a vehicle for social transformation and re-thinking gender relations.
A feminist thinker, writer, editor, social critic, poet, and activist Molara Ogundipe succeeded in combining theoretical work with creativity and practical action. She is considered to be one of the leading critical voices on African feminism(s), gender studies and literary theory.
Molara famously coined the concept of “stiwanism’ from the acronym STIWA – Social Transformations in Africa Including Women recognizing the need to move “away from defining feminism and feminisms in relation to Euro-America or elsewhere, and from declaiming loyalties or disloyalties.”
In her seminal work ‘Re-creating Ourselves’ in 1994, Molara Ogundipe (published under Molara Ogundipe-Leslie) left behind an immense body of knowledge that decolonized feminist discourse and “re-centered African women in their full, complex narratives...guided by an exploration of economic, political and social liberation of African women and restoration of female agency across different cultures in Africa.”
In speaking about the challenges she faced as a young academic she said:
”When I began talking and writing feminism in the late sixties and seventies, I was seen as a good and admirable girl who had gone astray, a woman whose head has been spoilt by too much learning".
Molara Ogundipe stood out for her leadership in combining activism and academia; in 1977 she was among the founding members of AAWORD, the Association of Women in Research and Development. In 1982 she founded WIN (Women In Nigeria) to advocate for full “economic, social and political rights” for Nigerian women. She then went on to establish and direct the Foundation for International Education and Monitoring and spent many years on the editorial board of The Guardian.
Growing up with the Yoruba people, their traditions, culture, and language she once said :
“I think the celebration of life, of people who pass away after an achieved life is one of the beautiful aspects of Yoruba culture.”
Molara’s Yoruba ‘Oiki’ praise name was Ayike. She was born on 27 December 1940 and at the age of 78, Molara passed away on 18 June 2019 in Ijebu-Igbo, Ogun State, Nigeria.
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The wait is over! We can all register for the 2016 AWID Forum. So excited to reconnect with fellow activists and re-imagine our feminist futures. See you there, in Brazil!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
Loving the thought of re-imagining feminist futures with 2,000 people from lots of amazing women's rights and social justice movements at the AWID Forum. Register and meet me in Brazil!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
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Registration is now open for the 2016 AWID Forum in Costa do Sauípe, Brazil! This is not just any event - it’s a key space for women’s rights and social justice activists to come together and re-imagine our feminist futures. You won’t want to miss it!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
Join us at the 2016 AWID Forum in Brazil! Activists and movements from all over the world will come together to celebrate, strategize, inspire and renew ourselves and our collective struggles. Register now!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
The 2016 AWID Forum will be a historic global gathering of women’s rights and social justice activists and movements. Join us there to break the silos, strengthen solidarity and leverage our collective power. Register now!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
The 2016 AWID Forum will be a historic global gathering of women’s rights and social justice activists and movements. Join us to celebrate, strategize, inspire and renew ourselves and leverage our collective power. Registration is now open!http://forum.awid.org/forum16/
Maritza Quiroz Leiva was an Afro Colombian social activist, a community leader and women human rights defender. Among the 7.7 million Colombians internally displaced by 50 years of armed conflict, Maritza dedicated her advocacy work to supporting the rights of others, particularly in the Afro Colombian community who suffered similar violations and displacement.
Maritza was the deputy leader of the Santa Marta Victim's Committee, and an important voice for those seeking justice in her community, demanding reparations for the torture, kidnapping, displacement, and sexual violence that victims experienced during the armed conflict. She was also active in movement for land redistribution and land justice in the country.
On 5 January 2019, Maritza was killed by two armed individuals who broke into her home. She was 60 years old.
Maritza joined five other Colombian social activists and leaders who had been murdered just in the first week of 2019. A total of 107 human rights defenders were killed that year in the country.
As feminists struggling for gender, peace, economic, social and environmental justice, we know there is no single recipe for success but an array of possibilities that can and are making change happen. The menu of options is as diverse as our movements and the communities in which we live and struggle.
Before we dare to present some of the feminist imaginations for another world, here are the principles around which we base our propositions:
1. Self-determined development from the local to the global
We believe there is no one model for all and that everyone has a right to claim and contribute to building another world that is possible, as the World Social Forum motto puts it.
This includes the right to participate in democratic governance and to influence one’s future – politically, economically, socially and culturally.
Economic self-determination gives peoples the ability to take control over their natural resources and use those resources for their own ends or collective use. Furthermore, women’s economic agency is fundamental to mitigating the often cyclical nature of poverty, denial of education, safety, and security.
2. Rights, substantive equality and justice are at the core of the economy
The principle of substantive equality is laid out in the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) and other international human rights instruments. This principle is fundamental for development and achieving a just economy as it affirms that all human beings are born free and equal.
Non-discrimination is an integral part of the principle of equality that ensures that no one is denied their rights because of factors such as race, gender, language, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property or birth.
The inherent dignity of all persons without distinction must be upheld and respected. While States are responsible for ensuring the use of maximum available resources for the fulfilment of human rights, reclaiming rights and dignity is fundamentally a key space for civil society struggle and popular mobilization.
3. Just distribution for all, without monopolization (the anti-greed principle)
This principle, exercised through organized efforts to transform unjust institutions, guides the restoration of balance between "participation" (input) and "distribution" (output) when either principle is violated.
It puts limits on monopolistic accumulations of capital and other abuses of property. This concept is founded on an economy model that is based on fairness, and justice.
4. Feminist and cross-movement solidarity is key
In order to make change happen, we need strong and diverse feminist networks. We need movements building solidarity from the personal to the political, from the local to the global and back.
Building collective power through movements helps convert the struggle for human rights, equality and justice into a political force for change that cannot be ignored.
“Only movements can create sustained change at the levels that policy and legislation alone cannot achieve.”
Leah Tumbalang was a Lumad woman of Mindanao in the Philippines. The story of Lumad Indigenous peoples encompasses generations of resistance to large-scale corporate mining, protection of ancestral domains, resources, culture, and the fight for the right to self-determination.
Leah was a Lumad leader as well as a leader of Kaugalingong Sistema Igpasasindog to Lumadnong Ogpaan (Kasilo), a Lumad and peasant organization advocating against the arrival of mining corporations in Bukidnon, Mindanao province. She was unwavering in her anti-mining activism, fervently campaigning against the devastating effects of mineral extraction on the environment and Indigenous peoples’ lands. Leah was also an organizer of the Bayan Muna party-list, a member of the leftist political party Makabayan.
For almost a decade, Leah (along with other members of Kasilo) had been receiving threats for co-leading opposition against the deployment of paramilitary groups believed to be supported by mining interests.
“Being a Lumad leader in their community, she is at the forefront in fighting for their rights to ancestral land and self-determination.” - Kalumbay Regional Lumad Organization
Being at the forefront of resistance also often means being a target of violence and impunity and Leah not only received numerous death threats, but was murdered on 23 August 2019 in Valencia City, Bukidnon.
According to a Global Witness report, “the Philippines was the worst-affected country in sheer numbers” when it comes to murdered environmental activists in 2018.
In solidarity with movements that continue to be invisibilized, marginalized and without access to core, long-term, flexible and trust-based funding, the WITM survey highlights the actual state of resourcing, challenges false solutions, and points to how funding models must change for movements to thrive and meet the complex challenges of our times.
My Queer Ramadan
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
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.
I am an individual activist, not working with any group, organization and/or movement at this moment, should I still fill the survey?
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Nicole Barakat
We transcend time and place, Hand cut found paper (2017)We will remember who we are and We will persist Cotton embroidered hand cut lamé on wool silk cloth (2018)We will return home, Silk embroidered hand cut lamé on cotton velveteen (2018)We will heal in the now, Hand cut silk, wool, lamé, cotton, direct digital print silk satin on linen (2018)
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
Nicole Barakat is a queer femme, SWANA artist born and living on Gadigal Country (so-called Sydney, Australia). She works with deep listening and intuitive processes with intentions to transform the conditions of everyday life. Her work engages unconventional approaches to art-making, creating intricate works that embody the love and patience that characterises traditional textile practices.
Her works include hand-stitched and hand-cut cloth and paper drawings, sculptural forms made with her own hair, cloth and plant materials as well as live work where she uses her voice as a material.
Nicole’s creative practice is rooted in re-membering and re-gathering her ancestral knowing, including coffee divination and more recently working with plants and flower essences for community care and healing.
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MANGO
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.
Suck it with me?
Mango is my favorite fruit.
I open my mouth
and suck it all,
Its flesh caught between my teeth
that turn soft not to hurt it
and I press it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth,
then I take it out to suck on every part of it
with the juice running down my mouth
drenching myself in this tasty nectar
and putting it all in my mouth again
because mango is seed and honey;
it is fiber and flavor.
And when it is over, I am entranced,
honeydewed, sweetened,
my lips all wet.
Ohhh, what is mango for if not for smearing.
Chupa Comigo?
A fruta que eu mais gosto é manga!
Porque eu abro a boca
E meto toda pra chupar!
Se os dentes a prendem
Fazem macio para não machucar
E eu pressiono entre minha língua e meu céu
Depois tiro pra sugar cada parte
Sentindo o caldo escorrer boca afora
Me molhando com esse néctar gostoso
E metendo toda na boca de novo
Pois manga é caroço e é mel,
É fiapo e sabor
E quando acaba, estou extasiada
Melada, docinha
Com os lábios molhados!
Aaahhh, manga é pra se lambuzar!
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.
ExploreTransnational Embodiments
This journal edition in partnership with Kohl: a Journal for Body and Gender Research, will explore feminist solutions, proposals and realities for transforming our current world, our bodies and our sexualities.
نصدر النسخة هذه من المجلة بالشراكة مع «كحل: مجلة لأبحاث الجسد والجندر»، وسنستكشف عبرها الحلول والاقتراحات وأنواع الواقع النسوية لتغيير عالمنا الحالي وكذلك أجسادنا وجنسانياتنا.
While funders committed significantly more money to gender equality over the last decade, still 
