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
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.
📅 Martes 11 de marzo de 2025
🕒 De 06:00 a 08:00 p. m.,
🏢 Chef's Kitchen Loft with Terrace, 216 East 45th St 13th Floor New York
Organiza: AWID
Afíliate
Afíliate
Al unirte a AWID, te sumas a un proceso organizativo feminista mundial, un poder colectivo surgido del trabajo entre movimientos y basado en la solidaridad.
Entre deux mondes : la double conscience des femmes en Gambie
par Haddy Jatou Gassama
Il est de coutume pour la tribu mandingue, en Gambie, de mesurer la première écharpe utilisée par les mères pour porter leur nourrisson sur leur dos. (...)
Esther Mwikali’s home was in Mithini village, Murang’a County, Kenya. A prominent and valued land rights activist, she looked into abuses against squatters who are living on land claimed by tycoons. The investigation Esther was part of also involved land rights’ violations in Makuyu by powerful individuals.
After failing to attend a village meeting, a search party went looking for Esther. On 27 August 2019, two days after her disappearance, her body was found on a farm near her homestead, displaying signs of torture. She was brutally murdered.
“Esther was renowned for her work to prevent community members being evicted from land claimed by tycoons. Local activists had no doubt her murder was related to the area’s ongoing land struggles, a tragic reminder of the alarming regularity with which extra-judicial killings are routinely carried out in Kenya,” - Global Witness Report, July 2020
“We associate Mwikali’s death with land struggles around here. We are asking the Government to investigate the matter without delay.” - James Mburu, spokesperson for the squatters
“Action should be taken on individuals who are alleged to have threatened the squatters including Mwikali's family.” - Alice Karanja, National Coalition of Human Rights Defenders
“The impact of her work and tenacity will remain alive in Kenya for decades. CJGEA consoles with the bereaved and it calls for justice.” - Center for Justice and Governmental Action (CJGEA) Press Release, 13 September 2019
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
Le Forum de l’AWID est le plus grand événement mondial axé sur les mouvements féministes et de justice de genre dans toute leur diversité. Il s'agit d'un espace de transformation créé par et pour les mouvements féministes, où les féministes du Sud Global et autres communautés historiquement marginalisées occupent le devant de la scène, élaborent des stratégies pour changer le pouvoir et se connectent avec les mouvements alliés, la philanthropie et les politiques. C'est donc avec le cœur plein que nous vous annonçons que...
Le 15e Forum international de l'AWID se tiendra du 2 au 5 décembre 2024 à Bangkok, en Thaïlande !
Nous espérons réunir 2 500 participant.e.s en personne et 3 000 participant.e.s en ligne/hybride.
Lorsque des milliers de féministes se réunissent, nous créons une force de solidarité écrasante qui a le pouvoir de changer le monde. Nous sommes enthousiastes, et nous savons que vous l'êtes aussi, alors restez à l'écoute pour plus de détails, y compris l'inscription et nos plans pour un programme plein de magie féministe.
Film club - Films from Nuestramérica
Our final Feminist Film Club program is now available to view: “Films from Nuestramérica” is a film series on Latin/Central American Feminist Realities curated by Alejandra Laprea (Venezuela).
"No sé mucho sobre la espiritualidad o lo que sucede cuando morimos, pero mi vida de coreana crip queer me hace pensar que nuestros cuerpos terrenales son sólo una fracción de lo que somos, y no considerar a nuestros antepasadxs es quedarse con solo un atisbo de lo que somos". - Stacey Park Milbern
Stacey Park Milbern fue una mujer autodefinida como queer, con discapacidad y de color, además de una pionera. Líder y organizadora respetada y de amplia trayectoria en el movimiento por los derechos y la justicia para las personas con discapacidad, también defendió los derechos de muchas otras comunidades, y no solo los de la suya propia. El activismo de Stacey tenía raíces poderosas en su experiencia personal con las intersecciones del género, la discapacidad, la sexualidad y la raza.
Stacey, junto con algunxs amigxs, co-creó el Club de Cultura de Justicia para la Discapacidad, un grupo dedicado a apoyar a varias comunidades, especialmente aquellas más vulnerables, que, entre otras cosas, está ayudando a las personas sin hogar a acceder a recursos durante la pandemia del COVID-19.
También fue coproductora de una campaña con mucho impacto para el documental de Netflix "Crip Camp", integrante de la junta directiva de la Fundación WITH, y dirigió organizaciones a nivel local, estatal y nacional. Stacey escribió además de manera hermosa y poderosa:
"Mis antepasadxs son personas forzosamente separadas de sus amores a causa de la guerra y el desplazamiento. Es gracias a ellxs que hoy conozco el poder de construir un hogar con lo que tienes, dondequiera que estés, con quien quiera que estés. Mis antepasadxs son queers que vivieron en el sur de América. Es gracias a ellxs que entiendo la importancia de las relaciones, del lugar y de vivir la vida al máximo, aunque sea peligroso. Todxs mis antepasadxs conocen el anhelo. El anhelo es a menudo nuestro lugar de conexión..." - Stacey Park Milbern
Stacey nació en Seúl, Corea, y creció en Carolina del Norte, para después continuar con su viaje en el área de la bahía de San Francisco. Stacey falleció por complicaciones de una cirugía en su cumpleaños número 33, el 19 de mayo de 2020.
"Ella fue, como mucha gente diría, una líder nata. En cierta medida, ella lo abarcó todo. ¿Sabes? Ella supo liderar desde la primera línea, desde el medio y también desde atrás. Era capaz de hacer todo eso de alguna manera." - Andraéa LaVant, activista por los derechos de las personas con discapacidad.
"Qué golpe perder a Stacey cuando nuestras comunidades necesitan de su liderazgo más que nunca, y en un momento en que su fuerza, perspicacia y agallas estaban recibiendo un mayor reconocimiento, más allá de los círculos de las personas con discapacidad, y le ofrecían una plataforma mayor para avanzar con el trabajo de su vida... No tendremos la suerte de aprender hasta dónde su carismático liderazgo nos habría llevado. Pero, sin ningún tipo de dudas: Lo que Stacey nos dio, en un tiempo relativamente corto, continuará beneficiando a otrxs en los próximos años". - Fondo de Educación y Defensa de los Derechos de las Personas con Discapacidad (DREDF, por sus siglas en inglés).
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.
If you’re looking to have an impact through your work in feminist, social justice and other non-profit organizations, we hope this page provides a start.
Here you will find open vacancies and call for applications from AWID and the Alliance for Feminist Movements, when available. Follow us on social media to be in the loop.
Every three to four years, AWID hosts its flagship international event. It is the world’s largest event that wholeheartedly centers feminist and gender justice movements in all their diversity. It is a global gathering of feminist activists, allied movements, scholars, funders and policymakers. The Forums rotate between different regions and countries in the global South.
Crear Resistar Snippet
Crear | Résister | Transform
Crear | Résister | Transform es para ti y para todxs lxs increíbles activistas feministas y por la justicia social que conozcas. Reunámonos para compartir nuestras estrategias de resistencia, para crear conjuntamente algo de magia feminista, y para transformar juntxs este mundo.
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»
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.
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.
With smart filtering for Who Can Fund Me? Database, you can search for funders based on:
¿Qué hará diferente a este Foro?
Con una asistencia de hasta 2500 participantes presenciales y 3,000 conectadxs de manera virtual, este será el Foro de AWID más grande hasta ahora. Vislumbramos múltiples espacios para establecer conexiones significativas, aprender, intercambiar ideas, tener conversaciones estratégicas, sanar y celebrar. Es la primera vez que nos reunimos en este espacio desde la pandemia, y estamos muy deseosxs de hacerlo.
