Women human rights defenders (WHRDs) worldwide defend their lands, livelihoods and communities from extractive industries and corporate power. They stand against powerful economic and political interests driving land theft, displacement of communities, loss of livelihoods, and environmental degradation.
Why resist extractive industries?
Extractivism is an economic and political model of development that commodifies nature and prioritizes profit over human rights and the environment. Rooted in colonial history, it reinforces social and economic inequalities locally and globally. Often, Black, rural and Indigenous women are the most affected by extractivism, and are largely excluded from decision-making. Defying these patriarchal and neo-colonial forces, women rise in defense of rights, lands, people and nature.
Critical risks and gender-specific violence
WHRDs confronting extractive industries experience a range of risks, threats and violations, including criminalization, stigmatization, violence and intimidation. Their stories reveal a strong aspect of gendered and sexualized violence. Perpetrators include state and local authorities, corporations, police, military, paramilitary and private security forces, and at times their own communities.
Acting together
AWID and the Women Human Rights Defenders International Coalition (WHRD-IC) are pleased to announce “Women Human Rights Defenders Confronting Extractivism and Corporate Power”; a cross-regional research project documenting the lived experiences of WHRDs from Asia, Africa and Latin America.
We encourage activists, members of social movements, organized civil society, donors and policy makers to read and use these products for advocacy, education and inspiration.
AWID acknowledges with gratitude the invaluable input of every Woman Human Rights Defender who participated in this project. This project was made possible thanks to your willingness to generously and openly share your experiences and learnings. Your courage, creativity and resilience is an inspiration for us all. Thank you!
Zita était une défenseure des droits des femmes de la région du Grand Kivu.
Elle a été la première directrice exécutive d’UWAKI, une organisation de femmes bien connue. Par son travail avec le Réseau des Femmes pour la Défense des Droits et la Paix (RFDP) et le Caucus des femmes du Sud-Kivu pour la paix, elle a consacré sa vie à rétablir la paix dans l'est de la RDC. Elle a très fermement dénoncé l'utilisation de la violence sexuelle comme arme de guerre.
En 2006, elle s'est présentée comme candidate aux premières élections démocratiques en RDC. Bien qu’elle n’ait pas gagné, elle a continué à défendre les droits des femmes et la communauté du Sud-Kivu se souvient d’elle avec affection.
Tendencias anti-derechos en los sistemas regionales de derechos humanos
Chapter 6
En la Comisión Africana y en el Sistema Interamericano, los actores antiderechos impulsan nociones esencialistas de cultura y género para impedir el avance de los derechos y socavar las responsabilidades. Como vemos, los actores anti-derechos están ejerciendo su influencia sobre los sistemas regionales de derechos humanos, así como en los espacios internacionales.
La Comisión Africana de Derechos Humanos y de los Pueblos ha comenzado a definir a los derechos sexuales y de las mujeres como un menoscabo a su capacidad de ocuparse de los «derechos reales» y como contrarios a los «valores africanos», con lo cual se establece un precedente anti-derechos preocupante. La anulación del estatus de observador de la Coalición de Lesbianas Africanas es un ejemplo de esta tendencia y muestra la forma en que el espacio para el involucramiento feminista panafricanista está siendo restringido.
En la Organización de Estados Americanos (OEA) y en el Sistema Interamericano de Protección de los Derechos Humanos, las estrategias anti-derechos incluyen la oenegización de grupos religiosos, la utilización de discursos seculares, y la cooptación de marcos de discriminación. La influencia antiderechos se ha materializado de diversas maneras, que incluyen la intimidación de activistas trans y la obstrucción de la introducción de lenguaje progresista en las resoluciones.
Índice de contenidos
Silenciamiento de feministas en el Sistema Africano de Derechos Humanos
Grupos anti-derechos en América Latina: Asamblea General de la Organización de Estados Americanos (OEA) y el Sistema Interamericano de Protección de los Derechos Humanos
Snippet FEA Principles of work Education and Learning (EN)
EDUCATION AND CONTINUOUS LEARNING
AWID Community Jobs board - FR
Bourse d'emploi communautaire
Êtes-vous à la recherche d'un emploi? L'un des avantages de rejoindre la Communauté de l'AWID est d'avoir accès à notre tableau d'offres d'emploi organisé par la communauté. Vous aurez l'occasion d'explorer de nouvelles opportunités et vous aurez également la possibilité de partager des postes vacants et des appels à propositions avec tous les membres.
FR Editor's note
Editor's note
Feminist Realities is a warm and caring invitation, a kind of en masse-care (versus self-care) act of preservation, an invitation to archive, to take stock of all the work lest it disappear. (...)
Bessy Ferrera a défendu sans relâche les droits humains des personnes trans, travailleuses du sexe et séropositives au Honduras.
Bessy était aussi membre d’Arcoíris, une organisation qui soutient la communauté LGBTI+. Elle était en outre la personne référente de la plateforme Derechos aquí y Ahora (les droits ici et maintenant) au Honduras et plaidait fermement en faveur d’une pleine citoyenneté pour les personnes trans, ainsi que pour l’adoption d’une loi sur l’identité de genre qui permettrait aux personnes trans de changer légalement d’identité de genre.
« Depuis le début de l’année [2019], la communauté trans a été victime d’une série d’attaques, parce qu’elle a défendu et demandé des droits. » Rihanna Ferrera (sœur de Bessy)
Bessy était une travailleuse du sexe qui a été tuée par balle par deux hommes, au début du mois de juillet 2019, alors qu’elle travaillait dans les rues Comayagüela. Ses assaillants ont par la suite été arrêtés.
Bessy fait partie des nombreux·ses activistes des droits LGBTI+ du Honduras, assassiné·e·s en raison de leur identité et de leur travail, parmi qui se trouvent : Cynthia Nicole, Angy Ferreira, Estefania "Nia" Zuniga, Gloria Carolina Hernandez Vasquez, Paola Barraza, Violeta Rivas et Sherly Montoya.
Le cas de Bessy incarne l’injustice, de même qu’un problème plus large de violence systémique à laquelle se confronte la communauté LGBTI+ au Honduras, puisque l’État ne parvient pas à garantir l’offre de droits ni à fournir une protection. Cela est à l’origine d’une culture de l’impunité.
Malgré les risques auxquels sont confronté.e.s les activistes LGBTI+ au Honduras, tous et toutes continuent leur travail pour défier et résister à la violence, ainsi que pour combattre la stigmatisation et la discrimination au quotidien.
« Si je meurs, il faut que ce soit pour quelque chose de bien, pas pour une futilité. Je ne veux pas mourir en fuyant, en étant lâche. Si je meurs, je veux que les gens disent que je suis mort·e en me battant pour ce qui m’appartient » - membre d’Arcoíris
"She was not a person. She was a power."
- a fellow activist remembering Navleen Kumar
Navleen Kumar was a fervent land rights and social justice activist in India.
With commitment and integrity, she worked for more than a decade to protect and restore the lands of Indigenous people (adivasi) in Thane district, an area taken away by property and land developers using such means as coercion and intimidation. She fought this injustice and crime through legal interventions at different courts, realizing that manipulation of land records was a recurrent feature in most cases of land acquisition. In one of the cases, that of the Wartha (a tribal family), Navleen found out that the family had been cheated with the complicity of government officials.
Through her work, she helped restore the land back to the Wartha family and continued to pursue other cases of adivasi land transfers.
“Her paper on the impact of land alienation on adivasi women and children traces the history and complexities of tribal alienation from the 1970s, when middle class families began to move to the extended suburbs of Mumbai as the real estate value in the city spiralled.
Housing complexes mushroomed in these suburbs, and the illiterate tribals paid the price for this. Prime land near the railway lines fetched a high price and builders swooped down on this belt like vultures, to grab land from tribals and other local residents by illegal means.” -Jaya Menon, Justice and Peace Commission
During the course of her activism, Navleen received numerous threats and survived several attempts on her life. Despite these, she continued working on what was not only important to her but contributed to changing the lives and realities of many she supported in the struggle for social justice.
Navleen was stabbed to death on 19 June 2002 in her apartment building. Two local gangsters were arrested for her murder.
A Joy to the World: Six Questions with Naike Ledan
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.
My return to self-love – I would call “rebirth” – coinciding with giving birth to my first child, giving birth to myself, and falling in love with my queerness or same-gender lovingness. (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
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?
My deep self awareness during my childhood years and my engagement in questioning inequalities and injustice at a very very young age (+/- 4 years old). (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
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?
My return to Haiti as part of my decolonizing process, and choosing to physically position my senses and my family’s senses to magic and blackness uncompromisingly. (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
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.
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.
📅 Wednesday, March 12, 2025
🕒 12.00-1.30pm EST
🏢 UNDP, 304 E 45th St. Doha Room, 11th Floor (FF Building)
Organizers: UNDP, Femena, SRI and AWID
FRMag - Ashawo Work na Work
« Ashawo Work na Work » : Comment les jeunes féministes ghanéennes transforment des horizons féministes en réalité
par Fatima B. Derby
En 2017, la campagne #ManifestezVotreSolidarité a mis en évidence la manière dont les jeunes féministes pouvaient construire un avenir féministe en étant là les unes pour les autres, en participant à des conversations transrégionales, en marchant en solidarité avec d'autres activistes et en collaborant entre les mouvements. (...)
