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Special Focus

AWID is an international, feminist, membership organisation committed to achieving gender equality, sustainable development and women’s human rights

Protection of the Family

The Issue

Over the past few years, a troubling new trend at the international human rights level is being observed, where discourses on ‘protecting the family’ are being employed to defend violations committed against family members, to bolster and justify impunity, and to restrict equal rights within and to family life.

The campaign to "Protect the Family" is driven by ultra-conservative efforts to impose "traditional" and patriarchal interpretations of the family, and to move rights out of the hands of family members and into the institution of ‘the family’.

“Protection of the Family” efforts stem from:

  • rising traditionalism,
  • rising cultural, social and religious conservatism and
  • sentiment hostile to women’s human rights, sexual rights, child rights and the rights of persons with non-normative gender identities and sexual orientations.

Since 2014, a group of states have been operating as a bloc in human rights spaces under the name “Group of Friends of the Family”, and resolutions on “Protection of the Family” have been successfully passed every year since 2014.

This agenda has spread beyond the Human Rights Council. We have seen regressive language on “the family” being introduced at the Commission on the Status of Women, and attempts made to introduce it in negotiations on the Sustainable Development Goals.


Our Approach

AWID works with partners and allies to jointly resist “Protection of the Family” and other regressive agendas, and to uphold the universality of human rights.

In response to the increased influence of regressive actors in human rights spaces, AWID joined allies to form the Observatory on the Universality of Rights (OURs).  OURs is a collaborative project that monitors, analyzes, and shares information on anti-rights initiatives like  “Protection of the Family”.

Rights at Risk, the first OURs report, charts a map of the actors making up the global anti-rights lobby, identifies their key discourses and strategies, and the effect they are having on our human rights.   

The report outlines “Protection of the Family” as an agenda that has fostered collaboration across a broad range of regressive actors at the UN.  It describes it as: “a strategic framework that houses “multiple patriarchal and anti-rights positions, where the framework, in turn, aims to justify and institutionalize these positions.”

 

Related Content

Ayanda Denge

«Soy una maravilla... ¡Por lo tanto, he nacido de una madre! Cuando comienzo a balbucear, Mi vida ha sido como ninguna otra...» - Ayanda Denge (lee el poema completo más abajo)

Ayanda Denge fue unx mujer trans, trabajadorx sexual, activista, poeta. Era una xhosa de Puerto Elizabeth, en el Cabo Oriental de Sudáfrica. Después de viajar por diferentes ciudades del país, se mudó a Ciudad del Cabo.

Como comprometida y ferviente activista por la justicia social, luchó por los derechos de lxs trabajadorxs sexuales, de las personas trans y de quienes viven con VIH y SIDA. Era también conferencista motivacional para concientizar sobre el cáncer, y hacía campaña por viviendas sociales económicas, en especial, para la gente pobre y de clase trabajadora. Ayanda se erguía, alta como una montaña, contra los distintos y, a menudo, abusivos rostros de la discriminación.

«Ser transgénero no es una dosis doble, sino una dosis triple de estigmatización y discriminación. Te discriminan por tu identidad sexual, te discriminan por tu trabajo, y te discriminan por tu estatus de VIH.» - Ayanda Denge, 2016

Ayanda presidía la organización Sex Workers Education and Advocacy Taskforce (SWEAT) [ Grupo de Trabajo para la  Educación y la  Defensa de Trabajadorxs Sexuales], y trabajaba también como coordinadora de promoción comunitaria en Sisonke, un movimiento nacional de trabajadorxs sexuales de Sudáfrica.

«Desde nosotrxs, desde nuestra sede regional, hasta SWEAT, de la que integro la Junta Directiva, o hasta Sisonke, un movimiento de trabajadorxs sexuales de Ciudad del Cabo,   todxs nos amalgamamos, tenemos un solo grito y es un grito que  ha sido reconocido internacionalmente por lxs trabajadorxs sexuales internacionales. Queremos la descriminalización del trabajo sexual.» - Ayanda Denge, 2016

Vivía en la Ahmed Kathrada House, que estaba siendo ocupada por la campaña Reclaim the City [Recuperar la Ciudad] en favor de las viviendas sociales. En 2018, Ayanda fue elegida líder de la casa. El 24 de marzo de 2019 fue apuñalada en su habitación. El año anterior, otrx residente había sido asesinadx.

Reclaim the City señala una conexión entre la seguridad de lxs residentes de la casa, el corte del servicio de electricidad por parte del gobierno provincial, y el derecho humano al agua:

«No podemos separar la seguridad de las mujeres y de las personas LGBTQI que están viviendo en la casa ocupada de la negativa a reestablecer los servicios de electricidad y agua en la Ahmed Kathrada House por parte del gobierno de la Provincia del Cabo Occidental.

De noche, la casa está completamente oscura. Necesitamos luces para protegernos unxs a otrxs. Es como si la Provincia quisiera castigar a la gente pobre y de clase trabajadora, cuyo único crimen es necesitar un hogar. Si bien pueden estar en desacuerdo con nuestros motivos por ocuparla, deberían avergonzarse de priorizar la política en detrimento de la seguridad y la dignidad de lxs residentes de esta ciudad.

Descansa en paz, camarada Ayanda Denge. Te recordaremos mientras mantenemos viva la llama de la lucha por una vivienda decente y bien ubicada.»

Poema de Ayanda:

Soy una maravilla…
¡Por lo tanto, nací de una madre!
Cuando comienzo a balbucear,
Mi vida ha sido como ninguna otra.
Nacida en el dolor
Nutrida por la lluvia
Para mí ganar
Era vivir en un desagüe.
Mientras se me cae una lágrima
Me pongo de pie y empuño mi lanza.
Las voces hacen eco, no temas
Habrá desafíos dentro del año,
Desafíos de daño se ciernen sobre mí;
La comunidad aplaude porque asume que he ganado mi carrera;
Pero en realidad mi trabajo avanza a paso de tortuga;
De rodillas me inclino y pido gracia.
Porque el Señor
Es mi espada
Para recordar a la humanidad
Que Él brinda cordura.
¿Por qué Señor soy esta maravilla?
El Señor me responde con la lluvia y el trueno,
Por cuestionar a mi padre
Que tiene en el libro de los corderos
Un nombre llamado Ayanda.
Desde las calles mi vida nunca fue dulce
La gente que tenía que encontrar;
A veces yo nunca saludaba,
Aun a pesar de que tenía que comer;
Optaba por inclinarme
En lugar de sentarme

Escucha el poema en la voz de Ayanda

«Porque mi vida representa la de una flor de loto, ya que de las turbias y turbulentas aguas florecí para ser hermosa y fuerte...» - Ayanda Denge, mira y escucha


Tributos:

«Ayanda, quiero decirte que todavía eres una sobreviviente, en nuestros corazones y nuestras mentes. Te has ido, pero estás en todas partes, porque eres amor. Qué hermoso es ser amadx, y dar amor. Y Ayanda, ese es el regalo que nos has dado. Gracias por todo el amor, verdaderamente te necesitábamos. De ahora en adelante, te prometo que todxs nos comprometeremos a continuar la lucha a la que tanta energía y tiempo dedicaste. Y nos comprometeremos a  buscar justicia por este horrible final de tu vida.» - transcripción de un mensaje en un tributo de despedida a Ayanda

«Ayanda era una activista por naturaleza. Sabía cuáles eran sus derechos y no le importaba pelear por los derechos de otrxs. Para mí, no fue una sorpresa que se involucrara en muchas organizaciones, y era sabido que era una persona de la gente. Ella representaba no solo los derechos de las personas LGBTI, representaba los derechos de todxs.» - hermana de Ayanda
 


 

Pourquoi l’AWID a-t-elle décidé de changer le lieu du Forum de Bali à Taipei ?

Fin 2019, les événements en Indonésie - notamment les signes d’intensification de la militarisation et de reculs des droits LGBTQ – nous ont amené·e·s à questionner la capacité de l’AWID à maintenir un environnement sécurisé et accueillant pour les divers·es participant·e·s que nous voulons rassembler au Forum.

Après un examen attentif, la Direction de l’AWID a décidé en novembre 2019 de faire évoluer le lieu de tenue du 14ème Forum international de l’AWID, de Bali à Taipei.

Taipei dispose de fortes capacités logistiques et est accessible pour beaucoup de voyageurs·ses (avec une facilitation de procédure de visa électronique pour les conférences internationales).

Pour plus d’informations :

 

A Collective Love Print

The Circle’s Conspiracy of Writers | Wazina Zondon

Decorative element
Teta Research Network
Wazina Zondon Portrait
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

Cover for article A Collective Love Print showing two people kissing

“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 ---


 

Cover image for Communicating Desire
 
Explore Transnational 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.

Explore

Cover image, woman biting a fruit
 

التجسيدات العابرة للحدود

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.

استكشف المجلة

Snippet intro text_Festival (FR)

Notre festival a réuni 130 conférencièr.e.s, animateur.ice.s et artistes de 43 pays, réparti.e.s sur plus de 40 sessions !

มีวิธีการจัดกิจกรรมแบบเฉพาะเจาะจงที่ผู้จัดต้องการหรือไม่?

ในหัวข้อ เปิดรับสมัครกิจกรรม แสดงรายการรูปแบบและวิธีการจัดกิจกรรมที่แนะนำจำนวนหนึ่ง ใช้ความคิดสร้างสรรค์และอย่าลืมอ่านหัวข้อ “สิ่งที่คุณต้องรู้”

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

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Suivez-nous sur les réseaux sociaux et partagez vos moments préférés de notre festival :

Facebook: @AWIDWomensRights
Instagram: @awidwomensrights
Twitter FR: @awid_fr
LinkedIn: Association for Women's Rights in Development (AWID)

لم أسافر من قبل. ماذا يجب أن أعرف؟

نحن نعلم أن السفر لأول مرة يمكن أن يكون مثيرًا ولكنه مرهق أيضًا. وإدراكًا للتحديات العديدة التي ينطوي عليها الأمر، سنقدم المزيد من المعلومات والتفاصيل حول كيفية الوصول إلى بانكوك عندما يتم فتح التسجيل في أوائل العام المقبل.

Love letter to Feminist Movements #3

Love Letter to Feminism

By: Marianne Mesfin Asfaw

Scrapbook envelopes that say Love Letters to Feminist Movements. The envelope on top says From Marianne Mesfin Asfaw

I have many fond memories in my journey with feminism, but one in particular that stands out. It was during my time at graduate school, at a lecture I attended as part of a Feminist Theory course. This lecture was on African feminism and in it the professor talked about the history of Pan Africanism and the ways in which it was patriarchal, male-centric, and how Pan Africanist scholars perpetuated the erasure of African women. She talked about how African women’s contributions to the anti-colonial and decolonial struggles on the continent are rarely, if ever, discussed and given their due credit. We read about the African feminist scholars challenging this erasure and actively unearthing these stories of African women led movements and resistance efforts. It seems so simple but what stood out to me the most was that somebody put the words African and feminist together. Better yet, that there were many more of us out there wrestling with the complicated history, politics and societal norms in the various corners of the continent and we were all using a feminist lens to do this. I came out of that lecture feeling moved and completely mind-blown. After the lecture three of my friends (all African feminists) and I spent some time debriefing outside the classroom. We were all so struck by the brilliance of the lecture and the content but, more than anything, we all felt so seen. That feeling stood out to me. 

Falling in love feminism was thrilling. It felt like finally getting to talk to your longtime crush and finding out that they like you back. I call it my crush because in high school I referred to myself as a feminist but I didn’t feel like I knew enough about it. Was there a right way to be feminist? What if I wasn’t doing it right? Attending my first Women’s Studies lecture answered some of these questions for me. It was thrilling to learn about stories of feminist resistance and dismantling the patriarchy. I felt so affirmed and validated, but I also felt like something was missing.

Deepening my relationship with feminism through academia, at an institution where the students and teaching staff were mostly white meant that, for those first few years, I noticed that we rarely had discussions about how race and anti-blackness show up in mainstream feminist movements. In most courses we had maybe 1 week, or worse 1 lecture, dedicated to race and we would usually read something by bell hooks, Kimberly Crenshaw’s work on intersectionality, and maybe Patricia Hill Collins. The following week we were back to sidelining the topic. I dealt with this by centring race and black feminism in almost all my assignments, by writing about black hair and respectability politics, the hypersexualization of black women’s bodies, and so much more. Over time I realized that I was trying to fill a gap but didn’t quite know what it was. 

Encountering and learning about African feminism was a full circle moment. I realized that there was so much more I had to learn.

Mainly that my Africanness and my feminist politics did not have to be separate. In fact, there was so much that they could learn from each other and there were African feminists out there already doing this work. It was the missing piece that felt so elusive during my exploration of feminism throughout my academic journey.

Feminism to me is the antithesis to social and political apathy. It also means once you adopt a feminist lens, nothing can ever be the same. My friends and I used to talk about how it was like putting on glasses that you can never take off because you now see the world for what it is, mess and all. A mess you can’t simply ignore or walk away from. Therefore my vow to the feminist movement is to never stop learning, to keep stretching the bounds of my empathy and to never live passively. To dedicate more time and space in my life to feminist movements and to continue to amplify, celebrate, document and cite the work of African feminists. I also commit to centring care and prioritizing pleasure in this feminist journey because we can’t sustain our movements without this.
 

Snippet Love Letters from our Co-EDs and the Board (EN)

Love Letters from our Board and the Co-EDs

คำถามของฉันยังไม่ได้ถูกตอบจากข้อมูลนี้

หากคำถามเพิ่มเติมอื่นๆ กรุณาติดต่อเรา เราจะอัปเดทเนื้อหานี้อยู่เสมอจากคำถามต่างๆที่เราได้รับจากคุณ

Carta de amor a los movimientos feministas #5

Feministas sudanesas: «Una revolución dentro de la revolución»

«Mientras estaba en la primera línea de la protesta, fui sometida a violencia sexual, a lesiones físicas y a otras formas de violencia. Pero no me detendré hasta que logremos pleno gobierno civil en Sudán. Debemos impedir la militarización del Estado. Nuestros cuerpos no deben seguir siendo tratados como campos de batalla»

dijo Amal,1 una manifestante de 23 años.2 

Durante los últimos cuatro años, las mujeres lideraron la revolución en Sudán. Su liderazgo no fue solo callejero, sino que constituyó el poder que impulsó la resistencia constante en todos los niveles. Las mujeres y las jóvenes feministas se convirtieron en la conciencia alerta del movimiento de cambio y democratización sudanés. Desde la primera protesta del 13 de diciembre de 2018 contra el régimen anterior, en la ciudad de Aldmazein, en el área de conflicto del Nilo Azul, las jóvenes estudiantes fueron las voces que demandaron el fin de la dictadura de los militares y los Hermanos Musulmanes, que ya lleva treinta años en el poder.

Love letter to feminist movements from Your dramatically cloaked jungle nymph.

El movimiento feminista, liderado por mujeres de entre 16 y 35 años, ha entablado una revolución dentro de la revolución en Sudán durante los últimos cuatro años de lucha ininterrumpida. Las potentes voces de las jóvenes que ocupan espacios en las calles, las redes sociales, la sociedad civil y las organizaciones políticas se elevaron lo suficiente como para reconfigurar la opinión pública y desafiar las normas sociales. Por primera vez en la historia de Sudán, las discusiones sobre violencia sexual y de género y sobre los tabúes de la violencia doméstica y los procesos de toma de decisiones dominados por los hombres se convirtieron en debates generalizados. Los equipos de fútbol de mujeres designaron voceras ante los comités de resistencia, y los sindicatos profesionales liderados por mujeres son parte de la expresión de la nueva ola del movimiento feminista de Sudán. El logro más importante es que las jóvenes se identifican como feministas en forma orgullosa y pública, en un país regido por el fundamentalismo islámico durante tres décadas. Los jóvenes varones que apoyan el activismo feminista -y se identifican como feministas- son otra señal de progreso notable.

Bajo el actual régimen del golpe militar, las jóvenes que lideran estas iniciativas y los grupos de mujeres que trabajan en el territorio no pueden mencionarse aquí debido a varios problemas de seguridad. Pero su resiliencia, su fuerza y su valentía serán incluidas en los libros de historia. Las audaces jóvenes que encabezan la resistencia en las calles y detrás de las pantallas, y que trabajan en diferentes profesiones y áreas de activismo están dando forma al futuro de Sudán. Las jóvenes feministas de Sudán están creando nuevos espacios para que las narrativas y los discursos feministas reestructuren la distribución del poder a nivel político, económico y social.

A pesar de la inmensa violencia, del resurgimiento del islamismo fundamentalista, de la militarización y de la reducción de los espacios cívicos, las activistas feministas de Sudán se mantienen arraigadas en su sororidad. Siguen siendo una gran inspiración para los movimientos feministas de todo el mundo.

 

Nazik Awad


1 «Amal» es un seudónimo utilizado para proteger a la joven activista citada.
2 Desde 2018, Sudán vive en una revolución constante. Una nueva ola opositora arrancó a partir del golpe militar del 25 de octubre de 2021.

Snippet FEA Tanta Gente sem casa (ES)

A graphic with green feather patterns on a beige background, text on it in Portuguese says “Tanta Gente sem casa. tanta casa sem gente” which means "So many people without a home,  so many homes without people"

"Tanta gente sin hogar, tantos hogares sin gente."