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.
The 3 Women Human Rights Defenders (WHRDs) from the Pacific we are featuring in this year's Online Tribute have worked in the media, campaigned for disability rights and advocated for women’s rights. Their contributions are missed and we honor them in this Tribute. Please join AWID in commemorating these WHRDs, their work and legacy by sharing the memes below with your colleagues, networks and friends and by using the hashtags #WHRDTribute.
Please click on each image below to see a larger version and download as a file
Winnie has been described as a “militant firebrand activist” who fought the apartheid regime in South Africa.
She was imprisoned multiple times, and on many occasions placed in solitary confinement.
Ma’Winnie, as she is affectionately remembered, was known for being outspoken about the challenges Black women faced during and after apartheid, having been on the receiving end of these brutalities herself as a mother, wife and activist during the struggle. She transcended the misconception that leadership is gender, class or race-based. Despite being a controversial figure, she is remembered by many by her Xhosa name, “ Nomzamo”, which means "She who endures trials".
Ma’Winnie continues to be an inspiration to many, particularly young South African women for whom her death has spurred a burgeoning movement, with the mantra: "She didn't die, she multiplied."
Your comprehensive research product is now all organized and edited. You now want to ensure your findings are visually accessible and appealing to facilitate the dissemination.
Consider developing smaller products along with your long report.
As mentioned in the “Synthesize your research findings,” AWID often pulls smaller products from the lengthy research report. This allows for wider and easier distribution specialized for key audiences.
Always keep your targeted population in mind: who will read your report?
Examples of smaller products distilled from a larger report:
Infographics
Online gallery
An animation presenting your arguments
1. Think as your audience thinks
People are bombarded with information constantly. Your product will have to be visually compelling to maintain the interest of your audience. Again, having an idea of what you hope to accomplish and who you hope to reach, will allow the designer to create targeted products.
A lengthy written PDF report may seem the only way to present your research, but it could appear overwhelming to most people – especially online.
If you want to share your product with an online community, think about creating memes and infographics to use on social media, blogs and web platforms.
When deciding whether to create smaller products, consider dividing your results into several smaller products that you could share with targeted populations or at different times of the year to reactivate the interest on your product.
2. Work with a professional designer
If you have limited time and a little bit of budget, we recommend hiring a design firm.
It can be tempting for economic reasons to use in-house staff to package your report. However, a professional graphic designer can make a huge difference on how your final product looks and thus on how much impact it will have!
The designer (in-house or hired) must be able to:
Show you samples of their previous work that is similar to what you seek.
Provide you clear advice on how to present your research based on the content you provide and the audience you are targeting.
Suggest additional or different pieces to package your product.
What the designer will need from you:
A general idea on what you would like the lengthy report to highlight through visuals and graphics (what are the most important pieces of information, the key findings, for example) and some ideas on the types of smaller products you want to create (brochure, an infographic, a series of viral memes, for example). If possible, show the designer examples of similar documents developed by other organizations.
Your budget and time frame.
Your organization’s visual guidelines if you have any (logo, official colours, fonts, etc...).
A few photos copyright free or access to your photo bank if you have one.
Key visuals that need to be included – graphs, tables and other visual graphics drawn from your research.
The designer is a graphic expert. S/he is not necessarily familiar with women’s issues and does not know the results of your research, especially if you hire an external firm.
Communicate what elements of this report is important to you and who is your target. The designer will propose a way to highlight these elements and make the whole piece appealing to your users.
3. Make sure it's consistent
While creating a set of smaller information products, do not forget to link them all together:
A shorter version of the report that focuses only on your final results and recommendations should present a link to the final, full report
A visually compelling infographic that sends a message on the state of funding for your particular research can link to your website and the related section of the full report. It should be associated with a call to share on social media.
A short animation video that uses the data, findings and recommendations from your report should link back to your organization website and social media
A series of viral memes that can be distributed online should link back to your report, infographic, shorter report, etc.
It is also important to keep the research staff involved, so they can ensure any offshoot products stay true to the actual findings of the research.
After the design and packaging of the final research report is complete, if any of the wording of content was changed, be sure to re-send to translators.
If you create smaller products, once designed and packaged, you will also need to get the copy translated for those pieces. The translations should be clear enough so the designer can apply to the design, even if she/he does not speak the language.
Once translated, make sure to have your design proofread by a native speaker before sharing it!
Known as “Ate Liza,” Annaliza was the president of the Agrarian Reform Council for Mindanao Pioneers, an umbrella group in Tacurong City, Philippines.
A loved mother of four, teacher and community leader, Annaliza is remembered by her community as “she who leads when no one wants to lead, she who talks when no one wants to talk, she who stood with courage to help the agrarian reform beneficiaries to own lands.”
Annaliza was shot dead by unknown assailants in front of the Sultan Kudarat State University (SKSU) while on her way to Salabaca National High School in Esperanza.
Her family have said “Naghihintay pa rin kami ng hustisya para sa kanya” (we are still waiting justice for her).
What criteria are you using to select the activities?
Please refer to the Call for Activities for this information, including the section “What you need to know”.
AWID Members Engaging at CSW61
Member states and women's rights advocates and organisations are gathering at the United Nations Headquarters in New York from 13 - 24 March for the 61st Commission on the Status of Women to address ‘women’s economic empowerment’ in the context of Sustainable Development Goal 5.
Whilst AWID is looking forward to physically meeting those of you who will be in New York, we want to engage with all those who cannot attend CSW, and as much as possible, amplify your voices in relevant spaces.
Continue reading to find out how to engage with AWID around CSW, whether you are attending physically or not.
Participate in an artistic takeover!
We are thrilled that AWID member Nayani Thiyagarajah is attending CSW this year and will take over the AWID Instagram. She will be available onsite to connect with other members for a possible feature on our Instagram. She will also explore possibilities of including some AWID members in a short film on the theme, ‘The personal is political’, a story of Nayani’s participation in this year’s CSW.
Nayani Thiyagarajah
Who is Nayani?
Nayani Thiyagarajah is a director, producer, and writer, dedicated to stories for the screen. A daughter of the Tamil diaspora, she calls Toronto home. For over 10 years, Nayani has worked in the arts and cultural industries. Her first independent feature documentary Shadeism: Digging Deeper (2015) had its World Premiere at the 2015 Zanzibar International Film Festival, where it won a Special Jury Prize. Nayani recently launched [RE]FRAME, with her producing partner Camaro West, a production company based out of Atlanta and Toronto, focused on re-framing the narratives around Black, Indigenous, and other people of colour through storytelling on screen.
On a more serious note, it should be noted that Nayani has a strange laugh, she's quite awkward, and her head is always in the clouds. She feels blessed beyond belief to create stories for the screen and play make believe for a living. Above all else, she believes in love.
Interested in meeting Nayani and being considered for inclusion in the film?
Send an email to membership@awid.org with the subject line “CSW Artistic Takeover”
By 13 March 2017
Please include your full name and country information.
Can't attend? Voice it!
If you are not able to attend CSW61 because of a travel ban, either due to the one imposed by the Trump administration or one you are facing from your own government, please share your story with us.
Send us messages you want heard in the United Nations spaces concerning funding, the impact of the reinstatement of the Global Gag Rule, and the need to push back against all types of religious fundamentalisms. You can send these in the following formats:
Video: no longer than two minutes and sent through a file sharing folder (for example dropbox, google drive)
Audio: no longer than two minutes and sent through a file sharing folder (for example dropbox, google drive)
Image: you can share a photo or a poster of your message
Text: no longer than 200 words and sent in the body of an email or in a word document
AWID members tell us that connecting with other members at CSW is valuable. In such a huge advocacy space, it is useful to connect with others including activists working on similar issues, or originating from the same country or region. Recognising the importance of connecting for movement building, we invite you to:
Interested in connecting with other members @CSW61?
If you are attending the CSW, we’d love to see what’s going on through your eyes!
Show us by capturing a moment you find speaks to the energy in the CSW space, be it on or off site. We hope to publish some of your ‘images’ on our social media channels and share on awid.org.
You can send us:
colour and/ or black and white photographs with a title (if you wish) and
a caption (no longer than 100 words) about the story your image tells.
Please also include:
your full name and country of origin and
let us know if we can publish the information you shared (in part or in full).
Mariam was a paralegal at the Kawagib Moro Human Rights Alliance.
Mariam was a staunch critic of militarization in Moro communities, and consistently denounced aerial bombardment and encampment. She had to seek sanctuary after exposing and calling out the injustices committed against Muslim communities in the Philippines.
She is believed to have been killed by suspected military agents because of her work as a WHRD. The assailants who killed Mariam waited for her, caught up with the vehicle she was using and shot her seven times.
متى وأين سيكون المنتدى؟
2-5 ديسمبر 2024، بانكوك، تايلاند! سنجتمع في مركز الملكة سيريكيت الوطني للمؤتمرات (QSNCC) وكذلك افتراضيا عبر
Defending human rights at the UN
Keeping an eye on anti-rights actor at the Human Rights Council
Anti-rights mobilization at the United Nations constitutes a response to the significant feminist and progressive organizing. It involves a constant threat for women's rights, especially when it comes to sexual and reproductive rights and an open door to racism, xenophobia and all kinds of discrimination.
Get to know all their tactics and discourses worldwide.
Main resolutions and organizations to follow on the 38th session
We’re looking at an attack on the human rights system, and all of these fundamentalisms are coming together to try to weaken the fabric of multilateralism, and that’s happening in large part at the expense of marginalized groups of people. It’s happening at the expense of women, and it’s happening through tactics that are often about gender and sexuality.
Cynthia Rothschild
Independent human rights expert, OURs member
We’ve experienced a lot of pushback from different states, from different civil society actors, from private corporations and large donors who are funding the activities of these anti-rights actors.
Meghan Doherty
Director of Global Policy and Advocacy with Action Canada
“I’ve witnessed discrimination on the streets, being teased on the streets and verbally abused on the streets. I have also made numerous friends and have met a lot of people. There may be dangers out there but I am a survivor and this is where I will be for now.” - Sainimili Naivalu
Sainimili Naivalu was a feminist and disability rights activist from the village of Dakuibeqa on Beqa Island, Fiji.
She demanded policy makers and stakeholders provide disability friendly policies and services such as the construction of ramps in towns and cities to increase accessibility. Physical barriers were not the only ones she strived to change. From her own experience, she knew that more difficult changes need to take place in social and economic spheres. Many of the challenges disabled people face are rooted in attitudes that carry discrimination and stigma.
A survivor and a fighter, Sainimili contributed to co-creating feminist realities that foster inclusion and shift attitudes towards disabled people. As a member of the Spinal Injury Association of Fiji (SIA) and through Pacific Disability Forum’s Pacific Enable project she attended the International Labour Organisation “Start Your Business” training in Suva, enabling her to transform her ideas into her own business. She was an entrepreneur at the Suva Market Stall 7, offering manicure services, as well as running SIA’s women’s market stall selling handicrafts, sulus and artifacts. Sainimili’s plan was to expand her business and become a major employer of disabled people.
In addition to her activism, she was also a table tennis medalist and youth champion.
A vivacious personality, Sainimili was one of a kind. You would always know that Sainimili is in a room because her laughter and her stories would be the first thing that you would notice. - Michelle Reddy
Sainmili passed away in 2019.
ويخطط عدد من الأشخاص من منظمتي لحضور المنتدى. هل يوجد خصم جماعي للمنتدى؟
لا تقدم جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية خصومات جماعية، ولكننا نقدم خصومات التسجيل للأعضاء/ العضوات. (انقر هنا لمعرفة المزيد عن كيفية الانضمام)
When you do a search for “Female Genital Mutilation” or “FGM” online, an image of four line-drawings of the female anatomy pop up next to its Wikipedia entry. It illustrates four types of violence. The first being a partial cut to the clitoris. The second, a more invasive cut with the entire clitoris removed. The third is progressively worse with the removal of the clitoris, labia majora and minora. And the fourth box illustrates a series of hash marks to symbolize stitches over the vaginal opening to allow only for urination and menstruation.
As a survivor of FGM, most questions about my story fixate on the physical. The first question I usually get asked is what type of FGM I underwent. When I told a journalist once that I went through Type 1, she said “oh, that’s not so bad. It’s not like type three which is far worse.” She was technically right. I had the least invasive form. And for many years, I gaslighted myself into feeling a sense of relief that I was one of the lucky ones. I comforted myself noting that I could have been less fortunate with all of my genitalia gouged out, not just the clitoral tip. Or worse I could have been one of the ones who didn’t survive at all. Like Nada Hassan Abdel-Maqsoud, a twelve year old, who bled to death on a doctor’s operating table earlier this year in Upper Egypt. Nada is a reminder to me that for every data point -- 200 million women and girls who live with the consequences of FGM globally -- there is a story. Nada will never be able to tell hers.
As much as I find the label “survivor” suffocating at times -- I also realize there is privilege embedded in the word. By surviving, you are alive. You have the ability to tell your story, process the trauma, activate others in your community and gain insights and a new language and lens to see yourself through.
The act of storytelling can be cathartic and liberating, but it can also shatter the storyteller in the process.
Without integrating the psychosocial support of trained clinicians into storytelling and healing retreats, well-intentioned interventions can result in more trauma. This is all the more important as FGM survivors navigate the double pandemic of their own PTSD from childhood trauma, and the indefinite COVID-19 global shutdown.
In many anti-FGM advocacy spaces, I have seen this insatiable hunger to unearth stories -- whatever the cost to the storyteller. The stories help activate funding and serve as a data point
for measuring impact.
Survivor stories then become commodities fueling a storytelling industrial complex. Storytellers, if not provided proper mental health support in the process, can become collateral damage.
My motivation in writing this piece is to flip the script on how we view FGM survivors, prioritizing the storyteller over the story itself.
FGM survivors are more than the four boxes describing how the pieces of our anatomy were cut, pricked, carved, or gouged out. In this essay, I’ll break down the anatomy of an FGM survivor’s story into four parts: stories that break, stories that remake, stories that heal, and stories that reveal.
Type 1: Stories that break
I was sitting in the heart of Appalachia with a group of FGM survivors, meeting many for the first time. As they shared their traumas, I realized we all belonged in some way or another to the same unenviable club. A white Christian survivor from Kentucky - who I don’t think I would have ever met if we didn’t have FGM survivorship connecting us - told the contours of her story.
There were so many parallels. We were both cut at seven. She was bribed with cake after her cut. I was bribed with a jumbo-sized Toblerone chocolate bar when mine was over. Absorbing her trauma overwhelmed me. And I imagine when I shared my story, others in the circle may also have been silently unraveling. We didn’t have a clinician or mental health professional in a facilitation role and that absence was felt. The first night, I was sharing a room with six other survivors and tried hard to keep the sounds of my own tears muffled. By the last day, I reached breaking point. Before leaving for the airport, my stomach contracted and I convulsively vomited. I felt like I was purging not only my pain, but the pain of the others I’d absorbed that week. We all dutifully produced our stories into 90 second social media friendly soundbites with narration and photos. But at what cost?
Type 2: Stories that remake
On February 6, 2016, the Guardian published my story as a survivor. The second it was released, I was remade. My identity transformed from nondescript, relatively invisible mid-level Foreign Service Officer to FGM survivor under a public microscope. That same day, then-U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Samantha Power tweeted my story with the introduction: “I was seven years old” before linking to the article. The tweet symbolized a moment for me where my personal and professional worlds collided. Since then, they have been forever intertwined.
Even though I spent ten years of my career as a diplomat focused on other issues -- I lived in Cairo during the early days of the Arab Spring in 2011 and served in Baghdad and Erbil when the Syrian revolution turned from an uprising to civil war -- all of those past experiences that began to make mefeel erased. When I spoke on panels, my identity would be reduced to “survivor.” Like other survivors, I have worked hard to rewrite the script on how others see me.
I reinsert pieces of my other identities when speaking to underscore to the broader public that while yes, I am a survivor of childhood trauma and while my FGM story may have remade a part of my identity, it doesn’t define me.
Type 3: Stories that heal
With the guidance of a mental health expert, I have spent the last few months doing a deep dive into my FGM survivor story. I have told and retold my story over dozens of times in public venues. My goal is to break the culture of silence and inspire action. At this point, the telling of my story has almost become mechanized, as though I am reciting a verse from the Quran I memorized as a kid. I would always start with: “I was sitting an anthropology class when a fellow student described her research project on Female Genital Mutilation. And that’s when I had the memory jolt. A memory I had suppressed since childhood came flooding to the foreground.” I go into the details of what happened in granular detail -- the color of the floor, the feelings of confusion and betrayal in the hazy aftermath. And then I go on to talk about the afternoon I confronted my mother about the summer she and my father shipped my brother and off to India to stay with my aunt. The summer it happened. I later found out my aunt cut me without my parents’ consent. In my years of telling and retelling this story, I would have moments I felt nothing, moments I would break down, and moments of relief. It was a mixed bag, often contradictory emotions happening all at once.
When I began to take apart the story, I discovered the core moment where I felt most gutted. It wasn’t the cut itself. It was the aftermath. I remember sitting in a corner alone, feeling confused and ashamed. When I looked at my aunt on the other side of the room, she was whispering to my cousin and they both pointed and laughed at me. Unearthing the moment of shame - the laughter - has haunted me since childhood. The piece that was carved out of me is called “haram ki boti” which translates into sinful flesh. Over time, the physical scar healed. But for many FGM survivors, the psychological wounds remain
Type 4: Stories that reveal
Last year, I decided to take a sabbatical from the Foreign Service. I was burning out on both ends -- I had just completed a really tough assignment in Pakistan and was also doing anti-FGM
advocacy in my personal capacity. When I came home, an acquaintance from graduate school approached me to capture my story on film. As part of the process, she would send a camera
crew to shadow me. Sometimes while giving speeches, other times filming mundane interactions with friends and family. On a visit to my home in Texas, I’ll never forget the moment where my mom told me her story of survival. As part of the film, we went on a roadtrip to Austin to visit the university where I first had the memory jolt. My mom is patiently waiting for the cameraman to set up his tripod. My father is standing next to her.
In the end, we eventually had the conversation I never had the courage to have with either of my parents face to face. Looking them both in the eye, retelling my story with a camera as witness, we discussed how FGM ripped our family apart (specifically my dad’s relationship with his sister). For the first time, I heard my mom talking about her own experience and the feeling of betrayal when she discovered my aunt cut me without her consent. When I later told her that FGM was actually indigenous to the U.S. and Europe and that it was a cure for hysteria (prescribed by doctors) up until the 19th century, my mother exclaimed “that’s crazy to me, this was a cure for hysteria. I’m going to educate other doctors to speak out.” And in that moment, my mother, a survivor who had never shared her story before, became an activist.
My story, intertwined with her story, revealed a tightly woven fabric of resistance. With our voices, we were able to break the cycle of intergenerational structural violence. We were able to rewrite the stories of future generations of girls in our own family and hopefully one day, the world.
This is a woman breaking free from her mundane reality, devoid of color. She dreams in a colorful, "nonsensical" way that people in her life would not understand. She could be considered insane, yet her dreams are more vivid and imaginative than actual life. This is frequently how schizophrenia occurs to me, more engaging and exciting than real life.
Binta Sarr was an activist for social, economic, cultural and political justice, and a hydraulic engineer in Senegal. After 13 years in civil service, she left this path to work with rural and marginalized women.
Out of this engagement grew the Association for the Advancement of Senegalese Women (APROFES), a grassroots movement and organization Binta founded in 1987. One of her main approaches was leadership training, relating not only to economic activities but also to women's rights and access to positions of decision-making.
“Grassroots populations must organize, mobilize, assume citizen control and demand democratic governance in all sectors of public space. The priority of social movements must go beyond the fight against poverty and must be focused on articulated and coherent development programs in line with human rights principles, while taking into account their needs and concerns both at the national and sub-regional levels and from a perspective of African and global integration.” - Binta Sarr
Rooted in Binta’s conviction that fundamental change in women’s status requires transformation in male attitudes, APROFES took an interdisciplinary approach, using radio, seminars and popular theatre, as well as providing innovative public education and cultural support for awareness-raising actions. Its popular theatre troupe performed original pieces on the caste system in Senegal, alcoholism, and conjugal violence. Binta and her team also looked at the crucial connection between the community and the broader world.
“For APROFES, it is a question of studying and taking into account the interactions between the micro and the macro, the local and the global and also, the different facets of development. From slavery to colonization, neocolonialism and the commodification of human development, most of the resources of Africa and the Third World (oil, gold, minerals and other natural resources) are still under the control of financial cartels and other multinationals that dominate this globalized world.” - Binta Sarr
Binta was one of the founding members of the female section of the Cultural and Sports Association Magg Daan. She received commendations from the Regional Governor and the Minister of Hydrology for her "devotion to rural people."
Born in 1954 in Guiguineo, a small rural town, Binta passed away in September 2019.
Tributes:
“The loss is immeasurable, the pain is heavy and deep but we will resist so as not to mourn Binta; we will not mourn Binta, we will keep the image of her broad smile in all circumstances, to resist and be inspired by her, maintain, consolidate and develop her work…” - Aprofes Facebook page, September 24, 2019
"Farewell Binta! We believe your immense heritage will be preserved." - Elimane FALL, president of ACS Magg-Daan
ما هي المعايير اختيار الأنشطة؟
يرجى الرجوع إلى فتح باب التقديم للحصول على هذه المعلومات، بما في ذلك قسم "ما تحتاج/ين إلى معرفته".
Upasana Agarwal
Forgotten SongOde to the MoonVapour and Fire
About Upasana Agarwal
Upasana is a non binary illustrator and artist based out of Kolkata, India. Their work explores identity and personal narratives by using a visual remnant or evidence of the contexts they work with. They are especially drawn to patterns which to them communicate complex truths about the past, present and future. When Upasana is not illustrating they organise and run a queer and trans community art centre in the city.
“I didn’t plan to be a singer, singing planned to be in me.” - Dorothy Masuka (interview with Mail & Guardian)
Dorothy Masuka, born 1935 in Bulawayo (then Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe), grew up in South Africa to become a well-known songwriter, composer, jazz singer and activist, a fervent advocate of the struggle against apartheid. Called “an architect of the discourse of popular African liberation music”, Dorothy often sang about politics in indigenous African languages and throughout her work she confronted the racist policies of the South African government.
One such song titled “Dr. Malan” (named after the pro-apartheid politician D.F. Malan) was banned. She went on to record “Lumumba” (1961), a song about the assassination of the anti-colonial leader Patrice Lumumba. Dorothy’s work and activism attracted the attention of the Special Branch of the South African police and she was forced into a political exile that would span over three decades. Throughout this time, she worked with pro-independence groups including the African National Congress. In 1992, as apartheid started to crumble and Nelson Mandela was released from prison, she returned to South Africa.
Some of her other work includes the first song she recorded in 1953 entitled “Hamba Notsokolo”, a hit in the 1950s and a valued classic. She also wrote “El Yow Phata Phata”, a song that was adapted by Miriam Makeba, making “Pata, Pata” popular internationally.
Rooted in resistance, Dorothy’s music and activism were intertwined, leaving a magnificent and inspiring legacy. She was also widely known as “Auntie Dot”.
On 23 February 2019 at the age of 83, Dorothy passed away in Johannesburg due to ill health.
