In September 2016, the 13th AWID international Forum brought together in Brazil over 1800 feminists and women’s rights advocates in a spirit of resistance and resilience.
This section highlights the gains, learnings and resources that came out of our rich conversations. We invite you to explore, share and comment!
What has happened since 2016?
One of the key takeaways from the 2016 Forum was the need to broaden and deepen our cross-movement work to address rising fascisms, fundamentalisms, corporate greed and climate change.
With this in mind, we have been working with multiple allies to grow these seeds of resistance:
Movements can also benefit from new methodologies on Visioning Feminist Futures (Coming up soon!)
And through our next strategic plan and Forum process, we are committed to keep developing ideas and deepen the learnings ignited at the 2016 Forum.
What happens now?
The world is a much different place than it was a year ago, and it will continue to change.
The next AWID Forum will take place in the Asia Pacific region (exact location and dates to be announced in 2018).
We look forward to you joining us!
About the AWID Forum
AWID Forums started in 1983, in Washington DC. Since then, the event has grown to become many things to many peoples: an iterative process of sharpening our analyses, vision and actions; a watershed moment that reinvigorates participants’ feminisms and energizes their organizing; and a political home for women human rights defenders to find sanctuary and solidarity.
Lorena Borjas, una mujer trans latina y activista, vivía y trabajaba en el barrio de Jackson Heights de Queens, en la ciudad de Nueva York. En esas calles, cuidó de su comunidad durante años, defendiendo los derechos de las personas trans e inmigrantes, apoyando a lxs sobrevivientes del tráfico humano y del abuso, y haciendo campaña por los derechos de lxs trabajadorxs sexuales y de las personas que viven con VIH y SIDA.
Lorena era fuerte e incansable en su lucha por apoyar, defender y proteger a quienes son más marginalizadxs y discriminadxs por la transfobia, la misoginia y el racismo.
«Ella nos empujaba a brillar auténticamente, a convertirnos en un grito de subversión que dice “Aquí estoy, y merezco felicidad también”.» - Cecilia Gentili, activista trans amiga de Lorena
Luego de haber enfrentado ella misma numerosos traumas y dificultades como mujer trans inmigrante y víctima de tráfico humano, recabó conocimientos y memoria emocional de la fuente de sus propias experiencias para ayudar a construir y fortalecer la comunidad de la cual era parte, y que era parte de ella. Algunas de las formas en que llevó esto a cabo fue organizando y movilizando apoyo, que abarcaba desde proveer preservativos y conectar a las mujeres trans con distintos servicios sociales, hasta armar una clínica para el testeo de VIH en su propia casa.
«Era un alma tan bella que ayudaba a otrxs, aun cuando su propio camino era difícil y doloroso como inmigrante, como inmigrante trans. Creía que la comunidad trans necesitaba amor, aceptación, y compasión, y lo daba todo.» - Luchia Dragosh, supervisora de producción de QPTV de un documental sobre Lorena
En sus más de 25 años de activismo, también fundó con Chase Strangio (abogadx y activista por los derechos trans) el Lorena Borjas Community Fund. Este fondo ayuda a lxs diferentes integrantes de su comunidad (y en especial a las personas trans) que lidian con problemas de inmigración, para evitar el ciclo de arresto-cárcel-deportación.
Lorena falleció en marzo de 2020 por complicaciones derivadas del COVID-19.
Su enorme y hermoso legado será llevado adelante a través de las calles de Queens por la red y la comunidad que ella ayudó a crear.
« Continuaremos su trabajo desde donde ella lo dejó, un trabajo que es esencial para el bienestar de “mis pájaras”, como llamaba Lorena a las chicas trans de Queens que protegía bajo su ala.» - Cecilia Gentili
Tributos:
«Lorena nos trajo luz, cuando atravesábamos tiempos muy oscuros aquí en Nueva York. Nos trajo luz cuando tuvimos que enfrentar la epidemia del crack, cuando tuvimos que enfrentar la crisis del SIDA, cuando tuvimos que enfrentar los cambios en las políticas de inmigración.» - Cristina Herrera, fundadora y CEO de Translatina Network y amiga de Lorena
«Lorena ha hecho más que nadie que yo conozca para arrojar luz sobre la epidemia del tráfico en las comunidades transgénero y para ayudar a otras mujeres trans a escapar de la explotación.» - Lynly Egyes, representante de Borjas en nombre del Transgender Law Center
The AWID Forum is the world’s largest event that wholeheartedly centers feminist and gender justice movements in all their diversity. It is a transformative space created by and for the movements - where Global South feminists and historically marginalized communities take centerstage, strategize to shift power, and connect with allied movements, funders and policy-makers. And so it is with full and fiery hearts that we share…
The 15th AWID International Forum will take place from December 2-5, 2024 in Bangkok, Thailand!
We hope to gather 2,500 in-person and 3,000 online/hybrid participants. When thousands of feminists come together, we create a sweeping force of solidarity that has the power to change the world! We’re excited, and we know you’re excited too - so stay tuned for more
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.
Ya puedes mirar el programa «Feminist Embodiments of Hope and Power» [«Corporizaciones feministas de esperanza y poder»] del Club de Cine Feminista de AWID, una serie de películas sobre realidades feministas de la región del Sudoeste Asiático y África del Norte, curada por Esra Ozban.
« Si nous nous taisons, ils nous tuent, et si nous parlons [ils nous tuent] aussi. Alors parlons. » - Cristina Bautista, 2019
Cristina Bautista était membre de la communauté autochtone du peuple Nasa, qui vit dans la région nord du Cauca en Colombie. Elle participait à la résistance en tant que leader, défenseuse des droits fonciers, travailleuse sociale et gouverneure de la réserve autochtone Nasa de Tacueyó.
Défenseuse infatigable des droits du peuple Nasa, Cristina s’est exprimée haut et fort contre la violence à l’égard de sa communauté. Dans un discours devant les Nations Unies, elle appelait à protéger les vies des femmes autochtones et à les impliquer dans différents domaines de la vie. En 2017, Cristina était membre du Bureau des Nations Unies pour les droits humains des personnes autochtones. Le Fonds de contributions volontaires des Nations Unies pour les populations autochtones lui a octroyé une subvention en 2019.
« J’aimerais mettre en lumière la situation actuelle du peuple autochtone en Colombie, le meurtre de leaders autochtones, la répression de la contestation sociale. Au lieu d’aider, l’accord de paix a renforcé la guerre et l’exploitation de territoires sacrés en Colombie… Actuellement, nous travaillons en tant que femmes, dans presque toutes les nations autochtones, à un avenir meilleur pour nos familles. Je ne veux pas voir plus de femmes vivre dans ces conditions en milieu rural. Il nous faut des opportunités qui permettent aux femmes autochtones de participer à la vie politique, à l’économie, à la société et à la culture. J’acquiers une réelle force aujourd’hui, en voyant toutes ces femmes ici, et en voyant que je ne suis pas seule. » - Cristina Bautista, 2019
Cristina a été assassinée le 29 octobre 2019, ainsi que quatre autres membres de la garde autochtone désarmée, dans une attaque potentiellement menée par des membres de « Dagoberto Ramos », un groupe dissident FARC.
D’après Global Witness, « le nombre d’assassinats de leaders communautaires et sociaux·les a terriblement augmenté en Colombie au cours de ces dernières années ».
« La communauté nasa a prévenu à maintes reprises les autorités au sujet des menaces qui pèsent sur leur sécurité. Malgré les efforts déployés par les gouvernements colombiens successifs, les peuples autochtones continuent de faire face à d'importants risques, surtout les dirigeants communautaires ou religieux comme Cristina Bautista.» - Point presse des Nations Unies, 1er novembre 2019
Hazte afíliadx de AWID ahora y participa en nuestro próximo evento para afiliadxs "Soñando el Foro" el 20 de junio.
A Collective Love Print
The Circle’s Conspiracy of Writers | Wazina Zondon
Also known as the Teta Research Network, The Conspiracy of Writers was founded in 2021 in the context of Kohl’s weekly writing circles. The Network is a transnational group of queer and feminist writers who engage in collective writing, thinking, and world-making.
Wazina Zondon is an Afghan raised in New York City. Her storycollecting and storytelling work centers collective memories and rites of passage in the diaspora. Currently, she is working on Faith: in Love/faith in love which (re)traces her parent’s love story and family’s inherited love print.
Love is a contraband in Hell,
cause love is acid
that eats away bars.
But you, me, and tomorrow
hold hands and make vows
that struggle will multiply.
The hacksaw has two blades.
The shotgun has two barrels.
We are pregnant with freedom.
We are a conspiracy.
It is our duty to fight for freedom.
It is our duty to win.
We must love each other and support each other.
We have nothing to lose but our chains.
- “Love” by Assata Shakur
“If we can inherit trauma, can we inherit an imprint related to love?”
That is the question Wazina Zondon asks in her collective memoir Loveprint. Loveprint is a wandering, an overlap, a deviation that (re)creates, at the intersection of interviews and personal essays, our family’s stories and insights on love, partnership and romance. Under Wazina’s guidance, the circle’s conspiracy of writers came together and attempted to reproduce this literal blueprint in the form of collective writing, where our different stories, our genders and sexual identities complement and contradict each other. With our voices overlapping, we complete each other’s sentences to create a conversation, a memorial, pieces of ourselves that speak to a “we.”
What are the origins of your love print?
I am a so-called “happy accident.” There is much narration about this – an accidental life, one that is entirely wanted at the same time. I feel this shaped my way of loving, I don’t just fall in love; I risk the slips that lead to the fall. Perhaps it made me an amor fati kind of person.
I was told that I was an unwanted child. So I grew up to become an unwanted adult. The origins of my love print are based on being eternally unwelcomed. I am not a fruit of love or any happy feelings but rather one pain and burden. I don’t have a love print – at least not in this sense.
I know for a fact that both my parents were in love at some point, but mental health is such a demon, and until one confronts their demons, there is no winning.
I will never associate “love” with my parents or normative family. Love growing up was full of violence and responsibilities I didn’t sign up for or was even ready for. For the longest time, it felt like life and love were about carrying a big rock uphill. While my parents “loved each other,” it was a toxic ethos of violence, jealousy, and insecurity to grow up in. I grew up wanting to crave stability, and this is what is me now. I am a risk taker, but never in my “love space.”
I don’t know why my mother chose to host a child (me) within her. She does not love in this form.
My mother tells me that if I have to think about “finding” love, I should never look at her marriage as a template. My love print comes instead from my raising dogs for the last two decades (18 years to be precise). The other way around is true as well – they raised me. I understand more and more about love and its many layers in their company.
I haven’t known love from a “print.” In our household we don’t talk about love. I had to teach myself how to love. It was hard work. Still, I fail and still, I keep on trying and I fail everyday. Perhaps failure is my love print.
My love print is the care, warmth, and understanding I give to others
surrounding me, whether a stranger, a friend, a relative, a lover. My love print is political – uncalculated and unthought of.
I was born under heavy shelling.
My love print is the negative
print of that.
Lessons learned about love
I know more about what love is not than I know about what love is.
Love is neither anxiety nor panic.
Love is not asking permission to live or breathe. It is always about love and there is no love without freedom.
Everything you do is about using your heart except love. Love is about using your mind.
Sometimes I fear that my love language is lost in translation.
--- There are many ways
to map the origins
of how to
how not to
love
not love
love just enough
love far too much
some love
some loss
to love
to love lost ---
I cannot stand the idea of the couple. I cannot stand the idea of living alone while aging either. I am tired of doing the chores alone, moving houses alone, paying rent and bills alone... I imagine getting a stroke alone, and it scares me. I have no plan of “partnering up.” I want a world where I can get married to a friend, buy a house with a friend, not have sex.
Loving many does not corrupt a love shared between two, and whether love is romantic or not is really not that important.
When I reflect on the shoddy state of my relationships, I realize that I am in the relationship I was trained to be in. With all my “radicalness” I have not yet unlearned shitty gendered norms.
My need for stability feels “not radical” enough. I want to get out of this labeling. I want something I never had. I want to make it beautiful. I want to feel beautiful and safe – and only stability makes me feel that. Safe, sound, knowing home is neither about violence nor strife.
--- Love print – love to smell the books to see
where they were printed
I try to think of the origin of my
understanding and practice of love
Do we need origin, it is not the same as purity?
No purity or origin of love.
Why is it understanding and practice,
and not “emotion” that comes to mind? ---
When I call my parents, I don’t hang up the phone after we’ve said
goodbye, so I can hear the sounds of home.
What do we need to be/feel loved in death?
During my Sunni burial, I want all the women and men to come together for my burial. What’s with not being able to go say goodbye to dead people from a different sex? It will be Sunni because my mother would want it to be. It will be eco-friendly; no need for the headstone. I love all burial rituals. Quran is good, but I also want music. I really like Asmahan, Um Kulthum, and The Stone Roses.
I have a Monday-Friday playlist and two different ones for the weekend: one for Saturday and one for Sunday playlist. I would like those who loved me to play the music that I used to listen to, respecting the days – with some margin of tolerance as long as they stick to the playlists.
I want to be surrounded by the one(s) who have loved me, even for a moment. And in music and embowered in fresh cut flowers. I don’t want to be discovered dead; I want to pass away mid-laugh with loved ones.
I want to be remembered as someone who loved.
I don’t need to feel loved in death. I need the people around me to feel I loved them, even after I die. Being loved in death is about those who are alive. So I think more about how we come together as a living and loving community in the death of those we love and live with. How we take their memories with us. How we become archives of their lives.
--- Sometimes, you can only love people in their death. ---
I have to think back to the body being connected to a space. My family is very tiny and although we come from different places, it is as if every generation moved somewhere new. Perhaps this is the reason why death is not connected to a special place, a cemetery. It is common in our family to bury the dead without names or gravestones, or to distribute the ashes in the wind. I feel at peace with this kind of spaceless remembrance. The idea that my ashes fertilize new life gives me the sense of being loved, being remembered through recreation. My grandmother died earlier this year due to complications after the vaccination. Two hours after she died, my family sat laughing tears about her jokes, her hilarious way to tell stories. We laughed and loved, and it was as though she sat with us again. This is what would make me feel at peace – fertilizing soil, fertilizing conversations, and collective remembrance.
--- There were
Two streets that I used
To walk
To run
To play
To stay
There were
Five hours when the sun
Was hot
The sky was blue
The earth was green
There was
A flower I could
Smell
Touch
Squeeze
Crush
There were
The friends I could
Caress
The food
I could
inhale
The language
That would roll off my
lips
There might still be
Those many places
And things
And people
After me ---
Perhaps a promise that I will be “spatially commemorated” as a plant and taken care of in turns until it becomes a tree is enough. No name, no plaques – just the plant/tree, and knowing that it will be cared for. As for my body, I want to be cremated without any rituals and my bone ashes set free in the Arabian sea.
I need my body to be treated as subversively as it’s lived.
I do not want to be buried next to my family. In this tiny drawer next to all of the people who never knew me. Trapped in death as I was in life. I want to be cremated, and my ashes finally set free.
I want to be allowed to pass, not hang in the in-between, so it is a presence, an active process, a trespassing.
I will ask of you:
To release me and let me pass
To not let nostalgia muddy this moment because I will ask only for the normalcy of your expressions
I have snuck the gentle glimpses and hoarded away the already small and large ways you loved me in order to be sustained. I kept myself alive on these
To set a finite amount of time to grieve
To be be reminded there is no separation in the beauty of loving; it is infinite and it regenerates without the body
I want to be remembered for the love I put into the world.
I want my body to be given away, and my organs
to further fuel love in (an)other live(s).
--- The smell of jasmine ---
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.
Dans le cadre de l’aventure de l’AWID sur les Réalités féministes, nous vous invitons à explorer notre tout nouveau Club de cinéma féministe : une collection de courts et longs métrages sélectionnés par des programmateurs·rices et narrateurs·rices féministes du monde entier, dont Jess X. Snow (Asie/Pacifique), Gabrielle Tesfaye (Afrique/diaspora africaine) et Esra Ozban (Asie du Sud-Ouest, Afrique du Nord). Alejandra Laprea est responsable du programme Amérique latine et centrale, que nous lancerons en septembre dans le cadre de Crear, Résister, Transformer : un festival pour les mouvements féministes porté par l’AWID. En attendant, surveillez les annonces sur les projections de films spéciaux et les discussions avec les réalisateurs·rices!
“I am a wonder… Therefore I have been born by a mother! As I begin to stutter, my life has been like no other…” - Ayanda Denge (read the whole poem below)
Ayanda Denge was a transwomxn, sex worker, activist, poet. She was Xhosa, from Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape of South Africa. After travelling through different cities of the country, she moved to Cape Town.
As a committed and fervent social justice activist, she fought for the rights of sex workers, trans persons, and for those of people living with HIV and AIDS. She was also a motivational speaker on cancer awareness, and campaigned for affordable and social housing, especially for poor and working-class people. Ayanda stood tall as a mountain against different and often abusive faces of discrimination.
“Being transgender is not a double dose, but it’s a triple dose of stigmatisation and discrimination. You are discriminated against for your sexual identity, you are discriminated against for your work, and you are discriminated against for your HIV status.” - Ayanda Denge, 2016
She was acting chairperson at the Sex Workers Education and Advocacy Taskforce (SWEAT) and also worked as an Outreach Coordinator at Sisonke, a national sex workers’ movement in South Africa.
“From us, from our regional head office, to SWEAT where I sit on the board, to Sisonke, a movement of sex workers in Cape Town. We all amalgamate, we have one cry and it’s a cry that is recognised internationally by international sex workers. We want decriminalisation of sex work.” - Ayanda Denge, 2016
She lived in the Ahmed Kathrada House, which was being occupied by the Reclaim the City campaign for social housing. In 2018, Ayanda was elected house leader. On 24 March 2019, she was stabbed to death in her room. The year prior, another resident was killed.
Reclaim the City draws a connection between the safety of the house residents and the Provincial Government withholding electricity and the human right to water:
“We cannot separate the safety of women and LGBTQI people living in the occupation from the refusal by the Western Cape Provincial Government to turn the electricity and water back on at Ahmed Kathrada House.
The house is pitch black at night. We need lights to keep each other safe. It is as if the Province wishes to punish poor and working class people, whose only crime is that we needed a home. While they may disagree with our reasons for occupying, they should be ashamed of themselves for putting politics before the safety and dignity of residents of this city.
Rest in Peace comrade Ayanda Denge, we shall remember you as we carry the torch forward in the struggle for decent well-located housing.”
Poem by Ayanda:
I am a wonder…
Therefore I have been born by a mother!
As I begin to stutter,
My life has been like no other.
Born in pain
Nourished by rain
For me to gain
Was living in a drain.
As I shed a tear
I stand up and hold my spear.
Voices echo, do not fear
Challenges within a year,
Challenges of hurt are on my case;
Community applauds as they assume I have won my race;
But in reality my work strides at a tortoise pace;
On bended knee I bow and ask for grace.
For the Lord
Is my Sword;
To remind humanity
That he provides sanity.
Why Lord am I this wonder?
The Lord answers me with the rain and thunder,
For questioning my father
Who has in the book of lambs
A name called Ayanda.
From the streets my life was never sweet
The people I had to meet;
At times I would never greet;
Even though I had to eat;
I’d opt to take a bow
Rather than a seat
“For my life represents that of a lotus flower, that out of murky and troubled waters I bloomed to be beautiful and strong...” - Ayanda Denge, watch and listen
Tributes:
“Ayanda, I want to say to you that you are still a survivor, in our hearts and minds. You are gone but you are everywhere, because you are love. How beautiful it is to be loved, and to give love. And Ayanda, that is the gift that you have given us. Thank you for all of the love, we truly did need you. Going forward, I promise to you that we will all commit to continue with the struggle that you have dedicated so much energy and your time to. And we will commit ourselves to pursuing justice in this awful ending to your life.” - Transcript of a message, in a farewell Tribute to Ayanda
“Ayanda was an activist by nature. She knew her rights and would not mind fighting for the rights of others. For me, it was no shock that she was involved with many organizations and it was known that she was a people’s person. It did not need to be the rights of LGBTI but just the rights of everyone that she stood for.” - Ayanda’s sister
Allez-vous ouvrir un appel à propositions ?
Oui ! Veuillez lire notre Appel à activités et vous inscrire ici. La date limite est fixée au 1er février 2024.
AWID IN 2014: Strengthening Women’s Rights Organizing Around the World
AWID is very pleased to share our 2014 Annual Report.
From building knowledge on women’s rights issues to amplifying responses to violence against women human rights defenders (WHRDs), our work last year continued to strengthen feminist and women’s rights movements across the world.
Get learn how we built the capacity of our members and broader constituency, pushed hard to keep women’s rights on the agenda of major international development and human rights processes, and helped increase coverage of women’s rights issues and organizing through the media. You'll find a panoramic sampling of our projects and some concrete numbers demonstrating our impact.
Collaboration is at the heart of all that we do, and we look forward to another year of working together to take our movements to the next level.
A sneak peak inside the report
Despite an increasingly challenging panorama, there are important signs of hope for advancing women’s rights agendas. Women’s rights activists remain crucial in creating openings to demand structural change, sustaining their communities, opposing violence and holding the line on key achievements. And there are important opportunities to influence new actors and to mobilize greater resources to support women’s rights organizations.
In this context, strong collective action and organizing among women’s rights activists remains essential.
Our impact
We built knowledge on women’s rights issues
We strengthened our online community
We helped improve responses to violence against WHRDs
We strengthened movement building through collaborative working processes
We pushed hard to keep women’s human rights on the agendas of major international development processes
We helped women’s rights organizations better influence donors and increased visibility and understanding of women’s rights organizations among the donor community
We contributed towards increased and improved coverage of women’s rights issues and organizing in mainstream media
I am sincerely thrilled by AWID’s accomplishments since 1982 and hope to be able to pay at least a modest contribution to its hard work for the benefit of women and situation of gender equality.” — Aleksandra Miletic-Santic, Bosnia Herzegovina
Chers mouvements féministes : Une lettre du conseil d'administration
Chers mouvements féministes,
Au nom du Conseil d’administration, je souhaite exprimer notre plus profonde gratitude, notre appréciation et tout notre respect pour Hakima Abbas et Cindy Clark, nos deux extraordinaires codirectrices exécutives ces cinq dernières années, qui quittent leurs fonctions pour laisser place à un nouveau leadership de l’AWID, alors que nous entrons dans une nouvelle phase de la vie de notre organisation avec un nouveau plan stratégique. Elles ont systématiquement mis en application les meilleurs principes de leadership organisationnel féministe et d’éthique du soin lorsqu’elles nous guidaient, lors des temps bien troubles et imprévisibles de la récente histoire du monde, cette syndémie de COVID-19 et la spirale politique mondiale descendante qui s’en est suivie. Elles ont tenu l’AWID, notre personnel et notre CA fermement, doucement et avec amour alors que nous éprouvions toutes et tous ces situations inconnues. Elles se sont également accrochées à la vision et à la mission de l’AWID lorsqu’elles ont dû, avec respect et stratégie, réagir aux différents changements, dont la difficile annulation du forum de l’AWID.
La nature, la portée et le poids des responsabilités de la direction de l’AWID nous incitent à choisir de conserver, à l’avenir, ce modèle de codirection. Notre première expérience de cette codirection a été une véritable réussite, comme tout le monde a pu le constater.
Reconnaissant tout à fait le potentiel immense qui existe au sein de l’équipe actuelle, le CA a décidé de privilégier un processus de recrutement en interne dans un premier temps. Nous pensons terminer cette transition d’ici la fin de l’année 2022. Hakima et Cindy décaleront leur départ, pour permettre une transition en douceur vers le nouveau leadership.
Il est difficile pour le Conseil d’administration et d’autres, qui ont travaillé étroitement avec elles et qui les aiment, de voir Cindy et Hakima quitter l’AWID. Rassurez-vous, le CA de l’AWID mène ce processus de transition de manière à ce que les belles marques indélébiles et inspirantes que laissent Hakima et Cindy soient inscrites dans les quatre décennies de notre histoire. Nous assurerons l’arrivée et le soutien de la nouvelle direction et veillerons à ce que ce processus nous inspire à faire mieux encore à cette étape de la vie de l’AWID.
Les grandes transformations dans les organisations ne sont jamais simples ni faciles. Elles sont parfois contraintes, hors du contrôle de quiconque, tendues, voire destructrices. J’ai vu, mais vous aussi, des exemples de telles transitions. Il arrive également que les besoins et les aspirations du personnel soient alignés avec ceux de l’organisation. Bien que nous n’ayons ni choisi ni souhaité le départ de Cindy et Hakima, leur décision et l’entrée de l’AWID dans un nouveau plan stratégique et une nouvelle décennie d’existence sont alignées. Et mieux que tout encore, nous sommes entre les mains merveilleuses, super compétentes, créatives et féministes du personnel et du CA de l’AWID.
Nous vous remercions, chers mouvements féministes, pour votre confiance dans l’AWID. Nous vous demandons également de soutenir notre transition de leadership au cours des mois à venir. Continuons à construire, approfondir et renforcer nos connexions, comme nous le faisons depuis 40 ans.
Nous reviendrons vers vous dans les prochaines semaines pour vous tenir au courant de nos mises à jour et des évolutions concrètes.
Avec solidarité et amour féministes, Margo Okazawa-Rey,
Présidente, Conseil d’administration de l’AWID
Promover agendas feministas: progresos clave en género y sexualidad
La montée en puissance des antidroits a préparé son terrain. Nous devons comprendre la montée de l’ultranationalisme, du pouvoir incontrôlé des entreprises, de la répression croissante et de l’amenuisement de l’espace civique pour contextualiser les menaces actuelles contre nos droits.
¿Alguna vez te preguntaste cómo son los presupuestos de las organizaciones feministas?
En 2023, las organizaciones feministas y por los derechos de las mujeres tenían un presupuesto anual promedio de USD 22.000. Detrás de ese promedio se esconde la disparidad y la desigualdad: mientras que algunos grupos acceden a recursos a gran escala, la gran mayoría apenas sobrevive con presupuestos muy ajustados.
Una mirada más detallada a los presupuestos reales revela gran diversidad y desigualdad de ingresos.
How can I fund my participation in the AWID Forum?
If your group or organization receives funding, you might want to discuss with your funder already now if they are able to support your travel and participation to the Forum. Many institutions plan their budgets for next year early in 2023, so better not delay this conversation for next year.