The theme of the 14th AWID International Forum is: “Feminist Realities: our power in action”. 

In our 14th Forum, we will celebrate and amplify Feminist Realities that are around us, in all stages of development. 

We want to make this Forum our Feminist Reality - a place where you can inhabit a different world, where you bring your victories, the solutions you have devised; what makes you feel stronger, hopeful and ready to go on. It will be different from any other convening you have previously attended. 

We urge you to join us in co-creating this world. It will be worth it!

Each Forum has a theme that reflects the needs of our membership and movements, and responds to our analysis of the current context.

The global context

Currently fascisms, fundamentalisms, authoritarianism and unfettered corporate power are gaining momentum globally. We see these threats converging with the State to shape public norms, narratives, and policies,  entrenching a culture of fear, hate and incitement to violence in public discourse. States, previously the target of advocacy and rights claims, in many cases no longer feel accountable and in some cases themselves don’t have the power to uphold rights.

This time of volatility, complexity and uncertainty requires creativity in how we organize across movements, coherence in what we demand and daring in what we propose. 

From Feminist Futures to Feminist Realities

AWID’s 2016 Forum centered on Feminist Futures and the conditions needed to bring such futures about. It was clear then, and remains evident now, the enormous challenge for many social justice movements to think outside of the current system for structural solutions. Imaginations can become narrowed from long experiences of inequality and oppression. But what we also heard then and we see all around us is that feminist movements are indeed living and promoting rights-and justice-oriented realities and solutions in big and small ways. 

Indeed we see an urgency to mobilize from a place of hope, rather than from a lowest common denominator - hope that is grounded in the certainty that across the globe, however imperfectly, are experiences and practices that embody more just ways of being in the world and that by sharing, strengthening and building on these experiences, we can help them grow their influence.

These are not impossible dreams, but lived realities. This sense of possibility is a spark to re-examine and re-appreciate the transformative dimensions in our work. 

A few examples of Feminist Realities across the globe

At AWID, we understand feminist realities as the living, breathing examples of the worlds we know are possible.  We understand these diverse feminist realities as reclamations and embodiments of hope and power. They are embedded in the multiple ways  that show us that there is a different way of living, thinking and doing-- from the daily expressions of how we live and relate to each other, to alternative systems of governance and justice. Feminist Realities resist dominant power systems such as patriarchy, capitalism, and white supremacy. 

These are powerful propositions that orient us toward a vision of what is possible, and show how feminist organizing is blazing a path toward justice in movements and communities around the world. 

• In a deeply marginalized Black community in Jackson, Mississippi, an experiment in solidarity and cooperative economics is taking place through Cooperation Jackson. An ambitious plan to build community ownership outside of capitalist modes of production.

• In West Africa, women farmers are resisting land grabbing and refusing industrialized agriculture projects, boldy claiming We Are The Solution, in a campaign to build agro-ecological solutions that center women farmers and their knowledges as the solutions to feed communities and mitigate climate change

• Similarly, in India, 5,000 women have come together to develop community-based food sovereignty systems based on local knowledge, including grain and seed banks

• Women in Mexico have created a moneyless economy project created by and for women and everyone they know. In El Cambalache everything has the same value: people exchange things they no longer need for things they want as well as knowledge, abilities and mutual aid that people would like to share. El Cambalache was built on the anti-systemic, anti-capitalist values of local social movements

• In Rojava, Kurdish people are building democracy without the state and Kurdish women offer Jineology as a framework for challenging patriarchy, capitalism and the state, creating systems and institutions to put this framework into practice

• In the UK, Anarcho Agony Aunts are a sex and dating advice show, covered from a feminist, antifascist, anarchist perspective. Hosts Rowan and Marijam are reclaiming space from the alt-right in giving people (mostly men) a space to ask tricky questions in a judgment-free zone. 

• The African Feminist Judgment Project drafts and disseminates alternative judgments for important African landmark cases on a range of legal issues. At the heart of the project is propositional feminist judicial practice and alternative feminist judgments that contribute to African jurisprudence, legal practice and judicial decision-making 

• The Usha Cooperative in India was founded when mainstream banks refused services to sex workers in Sonagachi. Sex workers self-organized to prioritize their economic concerns and set up their own financial institution. The Usha Cooperative is cooperative bank of over 20,000 sex workers and has provided over USD 4.7M in loans to 7,231 sex workers in a span of one year. With a membership entirely of sex workers, the bank provides real ownership and influence over the cooperative’s governance and management, pioneering ways for individuals and communities on the margins to build economic power on their own terms. 

• In Puerto Rico, a community land trust is helping to transform an informal settlement around a polluted and flood prone river channel into a sustainable community. It provides a new model for improving informal settlements in cities without them then becoming unaffordable for the original residents.

• In several Latin American countries activists are providing peer-to-peer counselling and accompaniment on medical abortion, reclaiming women´s right to decide over their bodies as well as to medical knowledgde. (for safety reasons, no links are provided.

The 14th AWID international Forum

The AWID Forum will be organized around 6 thematic anchors:

• Resources for Communities, Movements and Economic Justice
• Governance, accountability and justice
• Digital Realities 
• Bodies, pleasure and wellbeing
• Planet and living beings
• Feminist organizing 

Learn more about these anchors

Building on those realities, we expect the 2020 Forum to:

• Build the power of Feminist Realities, by naming, celebrating, amplifying and contributing to build momentum around experiences and propositions that shine light on what is possible and feed our collective imaginations
• Replenish wells of hope and energy as much needed fuel for rights and justice activism and resilience
• Strengthen connectivity, reciprocity and solidarity across the diversity of feminist movements and with other rights and justice-oriented movements

The Forum is a collaborative process

The Forum is more than a four-day convening. It is one more stop on a movement strengthening journey around Feminist Realities that has already begun and will continue well beyond the Forum dates.

Join us on this journey!

Learn more about the impact of the forum through these stories

by Alejandra Laprea, Caracas, Venezuela (@alejalaprea)

I live in a country of the impossible, where there are no bombs yet we are living in a war.

A war that exists only for those of us living in this territory.

I live in a country no one understands, which few can really see, where various realities co-exist, and where the truth is murdered time and again.

I live in a country where one has to pay for the audacity of thinking for oneself, for taking on the challenge of seeing life another way.

I live in a country of women who have had to invent and reinvent, time and again, how they live and how to get by.

I live in Venezuela, in a time of an unusual and extraordinary threat.

Since 2012 my country has been subjected to an unconventional war. There are no defined armies or fire power. Their objective is to dislocate and distort the economy, affecting all households, daily life, the capacity of a people to dream and build a different kind of politics, an alternative to the patriarchal, bourgeois, capitalist democracy.

Venezuelan women are the primary victims of this economic war. Women who historically and culturally are responsible for providing care, are the most affected and in demand. However, in these years of economic and financial embargo, Venezuelan women have gone from being victims to the protagonists on the front lines defending our territory.  

Battles are fought from the barrios, kitchens, and small gardens. We defend the right of girls and boys to go to school, and to be given something so simple as some arepas for breakfast.

Arepas are a kind of corn cake that can be fried, roasted or baked and served sweet or savoury as a side or main dish. It is a staple in the diet of all Venezuelans.

In Venezuela, arepas mean culture, family, food sovereignty, childhood nostalgia, the expert hands of grandmothers molding little balls, the warmth that comforts you when recovering from illness.

Arepas connect us as a people with the pre-Colombian cultures of corn, a resistance that has endured for more than five centuries. They are the Caribbean expressed differently on firm ground.

They are an act of resistance.

When my mother was a girl, they would start grinding the dry corn early in the morning to make arepas. The women would get up and put the kernels of corn in wooden mortars and pound it with heavy mallets to separate the shells. Then they would boil, soak, and grind the corn to make dough, and finally they would mold it into round arepas. The process would take hours and demand a lot of physical effort.   

In the mid-20th century a Venezuelan company industrialized the production of corn meal. For an entire generation that seemed like an act of liberation, since there was now a flour that you could simply add water to and have hot arepas in 45 minutes time.

But that also meant that the same generation would lose the traditional knowledge on how to make them from scratch. My grandmother was an expert arepa maker, my mother saw it as a girl, and for me the corn meal came pre-packaged.

In the war with no military, the pre-cooked corn meal came to be wielded as an instrument of war by the same company that invented it, which was not so Venezuelan anymore: today the Polar group of companies is transnational.

We women began to recuperate our knowledge by talking with the eldest among us. We searched in the back of the closets for our grandmothers’ grinders, the ones we hadn’t thrown away out of affection. Some families still prepared the corn in the traditional way for important occasions. In some towns there were still communal grinding stations which had been preserved as part of local history or because small family businesses refused to die. All of these forms of cultural resistance were activated, and we even went so far as to invent new arepas.

Today we know that in order to resist we cannot depend on one food staple. Although corn arepas continue to be everyone’s favourite, we have invented recipes for arepas made of sweet potato, cassava, squash, and celery root.

We have learned that we can use almost any root vegetable to make arepas. Cooperative businesses have developed semi-industrial processes to make pre-cooked corn meal. In other words, we have recuperated our arepas and their preparation as a cultural good that belongs to all.

“Entretejidas” [Interwoven women]

by Surmercé, Santa Marta (@surmerce)

My artivism aims to decolonize our senses in everyday life. I like to create spaces that communicate how we weave together our different struggles, and that render visible dissident (re)existences, other possible worlds, and living bodies here in the SOUTH.

“We carry one another towards the future”

by Marga RH, Chile, UK (@Marga.RH)

Let's take care of one another

As we continue to fight in our struggles, let us remember how essential it is that we support each other, believe each other, and love ourselves and our sisters. When this system fucks us over, we must take time to look after our (physical and mental) health, that of our sisters, and to understand that each one of us carries unique stories, making us fighters in resist

Until dignity becomes a habit

These portraits are inspired by the voices of resistance and protest movements in Latin America, especially by the key role that feminised bodies play in these struggles. It is a tribute to the grassroots feminist movements in resistance.

AWID does not provide group discounts, but we do provide registration discounts to members. (Click here to learn more about becoming a member)

A Film Series on Feminist Realities from the SWANA region

by Esra Ozban

In a product-obsessed world, prioritizing process is a fundamental feminist method. Processes matter, and curation is no exception. While figuring out which of the films from the SWANA region would speak the loudest to the Feminist Realities theme, the global pandemic we are still facing shifted our everyday lives tremendously. Even to think, write, or express myself has become an everyday struggle. I kept missing all of my deadlines and sending apology emails to Kamee Abrahamian, whom I was working with as an independent curator for AWID’s Feminist Film Club. Kamee’s invaluable support, understanding, and suggestions reminded me that even in two different parts of the world, as colleagues who never met in person, we can co-create micro versions of the Feminist Realities for which we live and yearn. 

Feminist Realities for me have a lot to do with sisterhoods. Sisterhoods that help womxn clearing mines in Artsakh/Nagorno-Karabakh. Sisterhoods baked in Vegan Inclusive Trans Cake by young trans feminists in Ankara that remind cis-ters that they are not welcomed by the Z generation. Sisterhoods that are growing into the mint on Dragica Alafandi’s rooftop in the Dheisheh Refugee Camp in Occupied Palestine in Sowing seeds of resistance. Sisterhoods that embrace intimate, sexual, and revolutionary proximities in Gezi Park in #resistayol. Sisterhoods that unearth an imagined encounter between two generations of womxn in exile in the streets of Haifa in Your father was born 100 years old and so was the Nakba. Cross-species sisterhoods that build in a fictional (brave) space created by Mounia Akl in Submarine for her rebel character Hala, who refuses to evacuate from a city full of garbage and is left behind with a dog friend.
 
This selection gathers bits and pieces of many Feminist Realities that have been realized in the SWANA region over the last couple of years. We will continue to imagine, learn, and share feminist embodiments of hope and power. In the meantime, let’s immerse ourselves in the powerful alternatives brought to life by the filmmakers and protagonists of these films. We may co-create every step, every act, and every attempt as we continue to cohabitate this world with others who are living Feminist Realities and continue to dream more of them into existence. 

MOTHERLAND 

By Emily Mkrtichian& Jesse Soursourian

“With beautiful visuals paired with compelling verité scenes, Motherland is a show of female camaraderie and strength… The film is a testament of women around the world who are willing to work harder to overcome any obstacle they meet.”
    - Nosarieme Garrick, award winning filmmaker

“Motherland is an inspiring visualization of solidarity, courage, and grit…”
    - Hers is Ours Collective, organizers of the Outsider Moving Art & Film Festival

Motherland from jesse soursourian on Vimeo.

Emily Mkrtichian on Feminist Realities and Artsakh/NKR:
We shot the short film, Motherland, in the Republic of Artsakh in 2018. I was drawn to each of these women for their strength, their resilience and their humor -- despite the context in which they lived. In 2018, that context was the aftermath of a brutal war in the 1990’s, after which their country remained an unrecognized (or, in the international community, disputed) territory that was not given the autonomy and independence so many other countries enjoy. Artsakh was also deeply affected by the consequences we see in almost all places that go through violent conflict -- consequences that so often fall on women to bear: PTSD, high rates of alcoholism, high rates of domestic abuse, less equality and freedoms granted to women, little to no representation of women in politics and civil service. In the face of all these challenges, this film tries to capture the fire and power of the women of Artsakh, one that might not fit the traditional Western feminist paradigm, but one they have created for themselves through deep community ties, care for their families, hard work, and the ability to laugh with eachother through it all. Today, the Republic of Artsakh has been newly devastated by another war that left it without 70% of the lands these women grew up understanding were theirs. Yet, I can promise you that these women, and thousands of others, continue to pull their families, communities, and culture together through the same networks of care, commitment to hard work, and deep riotous laughter in the face of an uncertain future. 

SOWING SEEDS OF RESISTANCE

By Baladi-Rooted Resistance

“A timely film to watch after having born witness to the latest bombardment of Gaza by Israeli Defence Forces. A glimpse into the way that women in Palestinian communities survive structural oppression, through the story of a library of traditional seeds.. and the women that sustain them as a form of nourishing rebellion.”

    - Jessica Horn, PanAfrican feminst strategist, writer and co-creator of the temple of her skin

“Watching women coming together and working collectively for food autonomy is both therapeutic and empowering for me.”
    - Hers is Ours Collective, organizers of the Outsider Moving Art & Film Festival

Baladi-Rooted Resistance Team on Feminist Realities:
How to talk about Feminist Realities when you live in Deheisheh, a Palestinian refugee camp, built 70 years ago to serve 3000 refugees, but now home to 15000 people, in the occupied West Bank? Or when the land you farm is under constant threat by illegal settlers.
If you’re a woman in occupied Palestine you will have to struggle not only against patriarchy but also against colonialism and a brutal military occupation. 

Dragiča and Vivien are fighting these multiple systems of domination in their own way. 
Vivien uses native seeds to help Palestinians maintain their identity. Growing traditional food in traditional ways has great significance: “If you’re not a producer anymore, you’re a consumer, and what better way to enslave someone than turning them into your consumer. This is happening all around the world, but here you have it doubled with the military occupation.”

31.5% of households in the West Bank are food insecure. Through a rooftop edible garden, Dragiča managed to increase her family’s food autonomy. In the crowded camp, where the Israeli army conducts regular nighttime incursions to arrest and harass residents, Dragiča’s rooftop garden not only nourishes her family, but it especially nourishes her soul.

#RESISTAYOL

By Ruzgar Buski

Ruzgar Buski on Feminist Realities:
I don’t know what to say about Feminist Realities but as a trans artist, an activist from Turkey, I know our realities are harsh. We live with violences- physical, emotional, economical, sexual! That is why we have to build our own networks, and co-creating micro realities for each other is a Feminist Reality for me. #resistayol is my first film, and at the beginning I was planning to make a film by/for/with trans people that does not try to convince anyone to the fact that trans people are human or focuses on raising awareness on trans issues. However, Gezi Uprising, one of the biggest uprising in the history of Turkey, happened and the film became something different. 

I believe the production process really affects what the film is. We tried very hard for women, trans and non-binary people to work on every step of the film. This film is made by people who gathered with camaraderie and friendship. Kanka Productions is founded on transfeminist comradeship. I want the film to give hope, to heal because we carry a lot of traumas in our bodies- this is what makes us and what bonds us. Healing is a never-ending process and we have to create spaces to breath. #resistayol is an hour of breathing collectively.

Boysan Yakar in #resistayol:
Well lubunyas (queers) were sitting in the park, all of a sudden bulldozers arrived and everyone got pissed off. Actually in summary this is it. It's Lubunya's park,and we had thirty days to explain that to this huge city. Everyone acknowledged that at night ibnes (faggots) fuck in that park...LGBTI Block carried our commune there. We already didn't trust the state and police  and didn't have any security, we've established our own ways of doing things, our own laws and customs to survive... We carried our law to Gezi rapidly...With an effort to establish some common language and understanding among all these groups, the LGBT language of togetherness spread all through the park. Every day was a Pride march, everyone was continuously saying ‘ayol’. We spruced up the stinky, fusty language of the left. I guess we had such an impact because we've been disowned for all these years. From the most radical ones to the most conservative and nationalist ones, they all needed us, because everyone got used to being confronted with everything. Τhey were not used to such energy, our energy. That’s why it was a great political space for us. Every day, we actualized our biggest and main struggle there, that is, a struggle for visibility and recognition. That’s why we left Gezi with a huge gain.

VEGAN INCLUSIVE TRANS CAKE

By Pembe Hayat

“...a multifaceted statement, showing the joy that exists in the friendships within the queer  community in Turkey as a display of rebellion and resistance.”
 
    - Nosarieme Garrick, award winning filmmaker

“...fun, light, and random. In a world constantly marked and scarred by violence against the trans community, nothing, no action, is (unfortunately) deprived of meaning. So to more joy, love, and meaningful randomness!”
 

    - Hers is Ours Collective, organizers of the Outsider Moving Art & Film Festival

Cayan Azadi in Vegan Inclusive Trans Cake:
Hello Barbies, Kens, porcelain dolls,  Olive Oyls, cabbage dolls. Brides of Chucky, sisters of Chucky, brother-in-laws of Chucky and last but not least, esteemed brother-in-law lovers.

So why did we make this cake. 

Now we got the news that a trans woman sex worker has attempted suicide due to the violence from street-guards and police on the street. She’s being kept at a police station now and that’s exactly why we made this cake. This transvestite cake is baked to show that we exist in every part of life, that we exist persistently and this cake shows that won’t be wiped off or ignored in this society. 

Yes, there is violence in our lives, yes there is a lot of shade as well but despite all of that, we can still have fun, enjoying life as much as we can. Bon appetit, sis! 

YOUR FATHER WAS BORN 100 YEARS OLD AND SO WAS THE NAKBA  ابوكي خلق عمره ١٠٠ سنة، زي النكبة

By Razan AlSalah

SUBMARINE

By Mounia Akl

“It is directed as a poem is written… simple, a touch abstract, and moving.” 
 
    - Hers is Ours Collective, organizers of the Outsider Moving Art & Film Festival

Esra Ozban:
Esra Ozban is a film programmer and filmmaker from Turkey. Their artistic, curatorial, and scholarly work intersects critical archival practices, sex work, pornography, feminist/queer film cultures among others.

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Chapter 2

Understanding the Context of Anti-Rights Threats

The rising power of anti-rights actors is not happening in a vacuum. Understanding the rise of ultra-nationalism, unchecked corporate power, growing repression, and diminishing civic space is key to contextualize the anti-rights threats we face today.

Read more

Interviewed by Chinelo Onwualu

Naike Ledan is a social justice defendant, a committed feminist that brings forward 20 years of experience in human rights and health justice advocacy, women’s empowerment, the fight for universal access to basic services and social inclusion, as well as civil society capacity building. She has built extensive work in Canada, West and southern Africa, as well as in Haiti, in civil rights advocacy, capacity building for CSOs, while emphasising the social determinants of structural exclusion. She values the principles of shared leadership, anticolonial, anti-oppressive, and anti-patriarchal spaces.

Chinelo You’re billed as a trans rights activist; I’m curious about how you made that journey.

Naike So, I grew up in Haiti until I was 18, then I lived in Montreal for 19 years. Coming back to Haiti in 2016, I thought I would be coming back home, but the place had changed and I had to readjust. I did not necessarily reconnect in the way that I’d expected to with childhood family and friends. I came back as an expat with a comfortable work situation, and I felt very much like a foreigner for a very long time. And at the same time, I felt very much at home because of the language, the understood silence, the not having to explain when we start singing a commercial – you know, that thing we share, that energy, that space, that spirit.

What helped me was, I loved the work of going into the country and documenting people’s knowledge. So I left the comfort. I became a country director of a regional organisation that was queer as fuck! Most of my work was to find resources and build the capacity of civil society. My strategy was to go into the countryside, look for all these little organizations, help build their capacity, and fund them. I was not interested in politicians and shaking hands and taking pictures . I had a very good ally, Charlot Jeudy – the [queer] activist that got killed three years ago in his house. We got very close after an Afro-queer film festival we were planning got banned in Haiti. But it made a lot of noise and sparked conversations about queerness everywhere, so Charlot introduced me to every little CSO in every little corner of the country. And I would just be there to help organisation[s] with registering legally or building their strategic plan. So it’s been a lot of these kinds of work that made me a queer activist and by extension, a trans activist. Although I don’t call myself that – an activist. It’s such a loaded word, you know? And it’s something people call you. I think I’m just a lover and a fighter .

Chinelo Tell me about the workshop you conducted with AWID for the festival. What was it about and what was the context?

Naike International media doesn’t really talk about Haiti, but with a political environment that is as bad as ours, the economic environment is even more catastrophic. Being a more middle class Haitian, speaking different languages, having different passports, I was initially hesitant to take the space. But I often see myself as a bridge more than someone that would talk about themself. That is how I came to invite Semi, who is a brilliant young trans woman from outside Port-au-Prince, to take the space to talk for herself and walk us through the ecosystem of the realities for trans women in Haiti. We ended up building a session about uninclusive feminism – or, I would say, formal feminist spaces – and how trans girls in Haiti do not have spaces where they can contribute to women’s knowledge and sharing of women’s realities. So the AWID festival was the opportunity for me to give the space to the women who should have it. We had a wonderful time; we had wine online while hosting the conversation. My co-facilitator, Semi, shared what it is like to be a trans child/girl/woman at different stages of her life. She also shared the dangers of the street, of poverty, of exclusion, of “not passing,” and her victories as well.

Chinelo What is the relationship of trans women to feminist organizations in Haiti? What has been your experience with that?

Naike It’s been really hard – heartbreaking, actually – the experience of trans women in Haiti. From not existing at all to just being extremely sexualized. The other thing that’s been happening is how they’re being killed, and how those killings have gone unreported in the media. This is how non-existent, how erased trans women are. They’re everywhere but not in job settings, not in feminist settings, not in organizational settings. Not even in LGBT organizations. It’s only recently, and because of a lot of advocacy push, that some of these organization are kind of readjusting, but in feminist spaces, this is still out of the question. We are still having to deal with the old exclusionary discourse of “They’re not women. Of course, if they can pass…” The culture of passing, it’s a risk management conversation – how much you pass and how much you don’t pass and what it means for your body and the violence it inflicts. In the trans-exclusionary realities we live in, which are reproduced in a lot of feminist spaces, those that pass completely may be considered girls, but only to a certain extent. But how about falling in love, how about having a conversation, how about being in the closet, how about wanting a certain aesthetic, or a career? So really, the conversation about hormone therapy becomes about risk reduction, as Semi herself shared at the workshop. But we don’t have the option of hormone therapy, we don’t have the medical framework nor the system to support those who would like to pursue that option.

Chinelo When you talk about the way that trans people and queer people are thought of in society, it sounds like it might be similar to Nigeria, which can be a deeply homophobic environment.

Naike Haiti is a very complex country in a very beautiful way. Nothing is simple, you know, nothing is ever one way. Haitians are very tolerant – and they’re also very homophobic. You’re going to find regions in the countryside where people aren’t that homophobic at all because all the Vodou temples there, and this is a religion that respects life. One basic principle of the Vodou religion is that all children are children. So, there is no right or wrong in the religion. For the longest time, people thought of Haiti as a haven, a place where people are tolerant – we’re talking 70s, 80s, pre-HIV, 90s even. Then you had the earthquake [in 2010] where around 300,000 people died. And then all this money came from the south of the US through the Evangelicals to rebuild the country and find Jesus. So, the homophobia in Haiti is very recent. In the depth, in the heart of the soul of the culture, I cannot really say that it is homophobic. But in the everyday life, it surely lands on the skin of queer people, that violence. And that of women, of poor women, of dark women as well, because colorism runs deep in the Caribbean.

Chinelo How have you managed this? What’s been your strategy for survival?

Naike I’m really in love with my work. I love working. When I first arrived, I was working with this horrible NGO but I was doing amazing work. I was always in the countryside, conversing and learning from people, from women. And that filled my heart for so long because I’m very much in love with my culture, with black people, with black women – old black women, black babies. It just fills me up in a spiritual way. When we were in Canada my kids were in these all-white schools and tokenized. They did not speak Creole nor French. And now, they’re running free in the yard and starting to fight in Creole. I also found hubs of survival with the people I met. I created bonds with the queers and others who were weirdos like me and it’s been really wonderful. But now I’m struggling because I don’t feel safe in Haiti anymore. We have about 40 kidnappings per week in Port-Au-Prince – and it’s been like that since 2018. I’ve developed anxiety and panic attacks. So It’s time to go, and I’ve been asking myself, “where is home?” I spent 19 years in Montreal but I never felt at home there. When I left, I never missed it so I don’t want to go back. I’ve been crying a lot lately because it feels like entering a second exile.

Chinelo What’s your relationship to pleasure, leisure, and rest?

Naike My relationship with pleasure, leisure, and rest are for me one and the same. It is the lived moment when I indulge in the heat of the sun on my face for example. It is pleasure, leisure, and rest at the same time.

Pleasure: My go-to space, most solely a haven of celebration of myself. I reserve myself the power and the right to be loud or quiet in the enjoyment of the pleasure I experience. All the pleasure I viciously and abundantly indulge in, including and not limited to the pleasure of solitude and silence.

Leisure: biking, music festivals, eating, wine discoveries, dancing in Haitian traditional Vodou dances are amongst many that occur at the moment.

Rest: is what I live for. As an overachiever and a person that is literally in love with work, it is a paradox how lazy I am. No one knows that because all of what the world sees is this: an accomplished overworker. They do not know how I can just, uncompromisingly and profoundly indulge in idleness.

Our women ancestors form a circle
Sacred, alive, powerful
We are in the middle
Feeling their strength.
The drum beats a sound of earth  
Our skin dresses in colours
We are green, red, orange, blue, violet, black
The drum beats a sound of earth  
A voice vibrates, a scream emanates, a song rings out, lulling to sleep, awakening consciousness.
The drum beats a sound of earth  
A gaze of complicity, friendship profound.
The drum beats a sound of earth  
Ours is but one heart, beating a rhythm of the soul, inviting us to move, inspiring desire, and showing us a path.
One of communal togetherness, power of the people, self-government, a women’s revolution of subversive communal care.
The drum beats a sound of earth  
And I invite you to join, to be voice, skin, gaze, seed, fire, song, communion.
The drum beats a sound of earth  
And I invite you to discover it, to love it, to know it, and to defend it from the heart of the community
 
For 25 years they have lived along the same dusty streets, at the top of a hill named after a lion. They come from different places, many from traditional farming communities. Their skin is the colour of rebellion, the colour of a cardon cactus, because in them lives the spirit of the semi-arid Lara State, which is where their love for life comes from, their appreciation, care and protection of water and land. They are heiresses of the Gayon and Ayaman lineages, Indigenous communities that lived and live in the northern part of Lara State.

From the time they were very young they learned that maternity is a role from which it is not easy to escape. Caring for children, home and husband, washing, ironing, cooking, cleaning—everything had to be impeccable, people insisted.

And that was life—that and violence, insults, abuse, hitting, scheming, complaints were to be expected. It seemed almost natural, and that is how they spent their days. Everyday life on those dirt streets living in little houses of tin sheet metal without any electricity or running water. That was poverty, the precarity of when a man would arrive, yes, a man, a project. And then, an unusual revolution because it came about without war.

Then they were invited to go out, they were invited to take to the streets and occupy public space. In the process, the women tore down doors and windows, broke chains, let their hair down and they felt free, free like runaway slaves, Caribbean rebels, freedom fighters.

And those concepts of independence and sovereignty are something that those who had the chance to study had read about, but feeling it, feeling like the protagonists of a process of social transformation—that is an important victory that we have to mention and we cannot forget.

At the top of that hill one can feel the complicity, the shared fire, the years of struggle. They tell of how one of them would go around with her parasol in the afternoons from house to house having coffee and conversing with the people she would invite, convincing them
We are going to make a community council!
Let’s move forward together as a community!
Let’s make plans for education, sports, health, nutrition, a women and gender equality committee, the economy.
We can form our own People’s Government so our Neighbourhood can Be Beautiful!

And that is how the houses came, the doctor’s office, daycare, electricity, potable water. These are some of the community’s achievements, some of our common dreams come true.
And you might ask how a cuentera, a storyteller, made her way to a hill with the name of a lion
And I will tell you: it’s that I was born rowdy, always fighting, I was born a wanderer my grandmother would say, born ready Comandante Chavez would add, from so much walking, grumbling, fighting, and doubting that military man, that I would end up becoming convinced by the community project, by the idea of self-government, of the people managing their own resources, of all the power going to the communities, and so I was convinced.

But I knew something was missing because the women, the women of the community kept building up the people’s power and putting our hearts in the anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist fight, but there is something that hurts and continues to affect us. There are wounds from a patriarchy still present.
So one day, I found myself crying and the drum of the earth beat and our women ancestors spoke.
I found myself surrounded by a group of women who held me up, who contained me as I spilled over in front of them, as it both hurt and liberated me at the same time. That is how I discovered that love among women heals you, saves you, and that our friendship is profoundly political and that sisterhood is a way of being, of living life. From that moment on I never felt alone again, I never felt like an island again, because I know there is a group of women who carry me, bring me, love me, care for me and me for them. I know that this way of becoming a feminist with the mysticism of women loving life is an experience of feeling connected and loved by women, even if you never see them again. How not to want this that happened to me, to happen also to other women, this new beginning, this birth of a new heart is a gift from the goddesses that must be shared.  

So I decided to join the women and I began walking from community to community to learn about others’ experiences. We began debating health, education, nutrition, we began preaching the anti-patriarchal word and calling for communities free of machismo. We insisted on recovering ancestral knowledge, intuition, we decided to defend life by talking about abortion and we found ourselves laughing, crying, debating, reflecting. I find myself with Macu, with the China, Yenni, Carolina, Maria, Ramona, Irma, and even with our sister Yenifer who left us not long ago.

This is my homage to them, the women of the hill, the lioness women, the ones who without a doubt have sown a seed in me with so much force it now beats with my heart.
Without a doubt they blaze a path, they are the ones who make caring for a family possible, collective care. They are also a force, a force in a territory that fights to overcome the embargo, the patriarchal violence, the political treason, to overcome the bureaucracy and the corruption.

Without a doubt they blaze a path
Without a doubt they are a compass
Without a doubt they are the heart of the community

Thank you.

Dear feminist movements, 

Love is what keeps our feminist fire burning. Along with care for our communities, anger and rage in the face of injustice, and the courage to take action. 

In September 2022, we stepped with great excitement into our leadership roles at AWID, as Co-Executive Directors. We felt the warmth and embrace of the feminist sisterhood as you welcomed us. 

Reflecting on our most precious memories as feminists, we recall powerful moments of togetherness at street protests, sharp analysis, and brave voices shaking the status quo at gatherings. We held those intimate conversations into the night, laughed for hours, and danced at parties together.

We understand the desire to change the world as an essential ingredient of feminist organizing. We can never forget that we are the ones we have been waiting for, in building alternatives and shaping our future. Yet, vibrant feminist energy cannot be taken for granted and must be safeguarded in many ways. In this, we will continue to be vigilant. Greater and equal access to care and wellbeing, to healing and pleasure, are not only instruments to prevent burnout and sustain our movements, though that is an important function; first and foremost, they are the way in which we hope to live our lives.

We are thrilled to roll up our sleeves and work with you. AWID’s new strategic plan “Fierce Feminisms: Together We Rise” reflects our conviction that now is the time for us to be fierce and unapologetic in our agendas while making an effort to connect across movements and truly get to know each other’s realities, so that we may rise together - because, for us, this is the only way.

Our plans include the long-awaited AWID Forum! We look forward to meeting you all in person and online in 2024. We are hearing from you the need to connect and recharge, to rest and heal, to be challenged and inspired, to share good food, and to laugh and dance together. Few things in this world are as powerful and transformative, as feminists from all parts of the world coming together, and we truly hold our breath for this moment, because we know the magic that we can create together. 

Our membership engagement has taken on a life of its own through the AWID Community (our online platform for members), and our focus on building connection and solidarity resonates with many of you. Please join and connect with us and others in feminist movements around the world. We know the importance of connection in a time and space where the rules are not made for us, and we hold close our community, where each of us matters.

Together with our fantastic AWID colleagues, we promise to do our best to support feminist movements, as is the mission and purpose of AWID. Please hold us to account.

For the past 40 years, you - feminist movements - have shaped AWID’s history, and pushed us to be braver, creative, and radical. 40 is a fabulous age, and we look forward to another 40 years with you all. We are looking forward to the partnerships, calls to justice, collaboration, policy influencing, and badass feminist power that you all bring in navigating the ever-increasing backlash on gender, racial and environmental justice. We have so much to learn from you and from each other, as we collectively build the worlds we believe in.

Cindy Clark and Hakima Abbas, thank you for paving the way for us and preparing us to fill your enormous shoes. We always appreciate all those on whose shoulders we stood and continue to stand. We understand ourselves to be part of a broader movement landscape, feminist histories, presents, and daring futures. 

AWID’s Board of Directors, we are grateful to you for the support and feminist love you show us, and for your commitment to Global South leadership and the co-leadership model. We send our love and respect to each and every AWID colleague, we feel honoured to be working with such an exceptional feminist team of dedicated professionals.

This is our first time writing a love letter together, how could we conclude it without expressing love, care, and respect for each other? It’s a pretty intense relationship we’ve stepped into! We both bring our different and diverse perspectives and skills to our work, and as individuals, we also bring our lived experiences and authentic selves. 

Together with you all, we are a story in the making, a part of a beautiful woven - and often beautifully challenging - tapestry that continues into the future. We had fun starting this journey together with each other and with you, and we very much hope to keep the romance alive.

In solidarity, with love and care 
Inna and Faye 
 

Save the date!

21 February 2023, Member Mixer 5 on Feminist Politics with Faye and Inna.

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