Women Human Rights Defenders
WHRDs are self-identified women and lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer and intersex (LBTQI) people and others who defend rights and are subject to gender-specific risks and threats due to their human rights work and/or as a direct consequence of their gender identity or sexual orientation.
WHRDs are subject to systematic violence and discrimination due to their identities and unyielding struggles for rights, equality and justice.
The WHRD Program collaborates with international and regional partners as well as the AWID membership to raise awareness about these risks and threats, advocate for feminist and holistic measures of protection and safety, and actively promote a culture of self-care and collective well being in our movements.
Risks and threats targeting WHRDs
WHRDs are exposed to the same types of risks that all other defenders who defend human rights, communities, and the environment face. However, they are also exposed to gender-based violence and gender-specific risks because they challenge existing gender norms within their communities and societies.
By defending rights, WHRDs are at risk of:
- Physical assault and death
- Intimidation and harassment, including in online spaces
- Judicial harassment and criminalization
- Burnout
A collaborative, holistic approach to safety
We work collaboratively with international and regional networks and our membership
- to raise awareness about human rights abuses and violations against WHRDs and the systemic violence and discrimination they experience
- to strengthen protection mechanisms and ensure more effective and timely responses to WHRDs at risk
We work to promote a holistic approach to protection which includes:
- emphasizing the importance of self-care and collective well being, and recognizing that what care and wellbeing mean may differ across cultures
- documenting the violations targeting WHRDs using a feminist intersectional perspective;
- promoting the social recognition and celebration of the work and resilience of WHRDs ; and
- building civic spaces that are conducive to dismantling structural inequalities without restrictions or obstacles
Our Actions
We aim to contribute to a safer world for WHRDs, their families and communities. We believe that action for rights and justice should not put WHRDs at risk; it should be appreciated and celebrated.
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Promoting collaboration and coordination among human rights and women’s rights organizations at the international level to strengthen responses concerning safety and wellbeing of WHRDs.
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Supporting regional networks of WHRDs and their organizations, such as the Mesoamerican Initiative for WHRDs and the WHRD Middle East and North Africa Coalition, in promoting and strengthening collective action for protection - emphasizing the establishment of solidarity and protection networks, the promotion of self-care, and advocacy and mobilization for the safety of WHRDs;
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Increasing the visibility and recognition of WHRDs and their struggles, as well as the risks that they encounter by documenting the attacks that they face, and researching, producing, and disseminating information on their struggles, strategies, and challenges:
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Mobilizing urgent responses of international solidarity for WHRDs at risk through our international and regional networks, and our active membership.
Related Content
Snippet FEA Intro Acknowledgments (ES)
Queremos agradecer al colectivo Amar.ela de mujeres feministas activistas y creativas que hicieron posible esta serie, y especialmente a Natalia Mallo (el pulpo del equipo) por su apoyo y acompañamiento en este viaje.
También extendemos nuestro más profundo agradecimiento y admiración a todos los colectivos y personas que participaron en este proyecto, y les agradecemos por compartir su tiempo, sabiduría, sueños e ilusiones con nosotrxs. Les agradecemos por hacer de este mundo un mundo más justo, feminista y sostenible.
Esperamos que sus historias inspiren al resto del mundo tanto como nos inspiran a nosotrxs.
Nicole Barakat




somos infinitxs
Una exposición de Nicole Barakat que encarna su reconexión con los objetos de la diáspora de sus tierras ancestrales en la región del Sudoeste Asiático y África del Norte (SWANA, por sus siglas en inglés).
Barakat presenta una colección de obras textiles como manifestaciones de su práctica de conectarse con los objetos desplazados, y a menudo robados, que son exhibidos en colecciones de museos occidentales que incluyen el Museo del Louvre de París, el Museo Británico de Londres y el Nicholson Museum de Sydney.
Para burlar a los guardianes y fisurar las vitrinas que retienen estos objetos ancestrales, Barakat recupera formas de conocimiento precoloniales, no lineales y receptivas que son, a menudo, devaluadas y desestimadas por las instituciones coloniales y patriarcales, utilizando la adivinación con la borra del café, el trabajo con los sueños, la escucha intuitiva y las conversaciones con los objetos mismos (fuente).
Sobre Nicole Barakat

Sus trabajos incluyen dibujos en papel y en tela cortados y cosidos a mano, esculturas realizadas con su propio cabello, tela y materiales vegetales, así como obras en vivo en las que utiliza su voz como material.
La práctica creativa de Nicole está arraigada en el re-cuerdo y la re-colección de sus conocimientos ancestrales, incluyendo la adivinación con la borra del café y, más recientemente, el trabajo con esencias de plantas y flores para el cuidado y la sanación comunitaria.
Nicole’s creative practice is rooted in re-membering and re-gathering her ancestral knowing, including coffee divination and more recently working with plants and flower essences for community care and healing.
FRMag - Esmeralda takes over the Internet
Esmeralda se apodera de Internet: cómo las redes sociales han ayudado a las mujeres romaníes a recuperar su visibilidad
por Émilie Herbert-Pontonnier
¿Se acuerdan de Esmeralda? La exótica heroína «gitana» nacida de la pluma del gigante literario francés, Víctor Hugo, y popularizada por los Estudios Disney con su Jorobado de Notre Dame. (...)
< arte: «Si las marronas lo permiten», Nayare Soledad Otorongx Montes Gavilan
Laurie Carlos
Laurie Carlos fue una actriz, directora, bailarina, dramaturga y poeta estadounidense, una artista y visionaria extraordinaria que tenía un poderoso don para hacer surgir el arte en otras personas.
«Laurie entraba en una habitación (cualquier habitación/todas las habitaciones ) con clarividencia arremolinada, con genio artístico, rigor corporizado, con un realismo feroz— y con la determinación de ser libre... y de liberar a otrxs. Una hacedora de magia. Una vidente. Alguien que cambiaba de formas. Laurie me dijo una vez que entraba en los cuerpos de las personas para descubrir qué necesitaban.» - Sharon Bridgforth
Combinaba estilos de actuación tales como gestos rítmicos y texto. Laurie era mentora de nuevxs actorxs, performers y escritorxs, y ayudaba a difundir su trabajo a través de «Naked Stages», una beca para artistas emergentes. Integraba el Penumbra Theater, con el que colaboraba mediante guiones que produjeran identificaciones, a fin de «traer más voces femeninas al teatro». Laurie integraba también Urban Bush Women, una compañía de danza contemporánea prestigiosa que relata historias sobre mujeres de la diáspora africana.
En 1976, como Lady in Blue, hizo su debut en Broadway, en la producción original galardonada del drama poético de Ntozake Shange For colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf. La obra de Laurie incluye White Chocolate, The Cooking Show y Organdy Falsetto.
«Cuento las historias en el movimiento (las danzas internas que surgen espontáneamente, como en la vida), la música y el texto. Si escribo una línea, no necesariamente tiene que ser una línea que es hablada; puede ser una línea que es movida. Una línea a partir de la cual se crea música. El gesto se convierte en la oración. Gran parte de quienes somos como mujeres, como personas, tiene que ver con los gestos que hacemos entre nosotrxs todo el tiempo, y en particular, durante momentos emotivos. El gesto se convierte en una oración o una declaración de hechos. Si pongo en un guión “cuatro gestos”, eso no quiere decir que no estoy diciendo nada; significa que lo he abierto para que algo sea dicho físicamente.» - Laurie Carlos
Laurie nació y creció en la ciudad de Nueva York, trabajó y vivió en Twin Cities. Falleció el 29 de diciembre de 2016 a la edad de 67 años, luego de una batalla contra el cáncer de colon.
Tributos:
«Creo que esa era exactamente la intención de Laurie. Salvarnos. De la mediocridad. Del ego. De la pereza. De la producción de arte a medias. De estar paralizadxs por el miedo. Laurie quería ayudarnos a Brillar plenamente. En nuestra producción artística. En nuestras Vidas.» - Sharon Bridgforth para Pillsbury House Theatre
«Nadie que conociera a Laurie dejaría de definirla como una persona original. Era su propia persona. Era su propia persona, su propia artista; ponía en escena el mundo tal como lo conocía, con verdadero estilo y comprensión, y vivía su arte.» - Lou Bellamy, fundador de Penumbra Theater Company, para Star Tribune
Leer un tributo completo de Sharon Bridgforth (solo en ingles)
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Cuando la gente se reúne a escala global, como personas individuales y como movimientos, se genera una fuerza arrolladora. Únete a nosotrxs en Bangkok, Tailandia, y de manera virtual, en diciembre de 2024.
Snippet - GII Download
Les tendances antidroits au sein des systèmes régionaux des droits humains
Chapter 6
À la Commission africaine et au Système interaméricain, les antidroits promeuvent les notions essentialistes de culture et de genre pour miner les avancées en matière de droits et décrédibiliser la redevabilité. Les antidroits gagnent en influence dans les systèmes de protection des droits humains régionaux et internationaux.

2019 JUIN 27 Réunion du Groupe d'examen de la mise en œuvre du Sommet en Colombie
La Commission africaine des droits de l’Homme et des peuples commence à présenter les droits des femmes et droits sexuels comme mettant en danger sa capacité à adresser les « droits réels » et contraires aux « valeurs africaines », un précédent inquiétant à l’égard des droits. Le retrait de son statut d’observatrice à la Coalition des lesbiennes africaines est un exemple de cette tendance, et traduit la répression de l’engagement féministe panafricaniste.
Au sein de l’Organisation des États américains (OEA) et du Système interaméricain de protection des droits humains, les stratégies antidroits incluent l’ONGisation de groupes religieux, l’adoption d’un langage séculier et la prise de contrôle de cadres discriminatoires. L’influence antidroits a pris plusieurs formes, et notamment l’intimidation d’activistes trans et l’entrave à l’introduction d’un langage progressif dans les résolutions.
Sommaire
- Réduire les féministes au silence au sein du Système africain de protection des droits humains
- Les groupes antidroits en Amérique latine : l’Assemblée générale de l’Organisation des États américains (OEA) et le Système interaméricain de protection des droits humains
FRMag - Let the invisible be visible
Que l'invisible soit visible : manifeste d'un.e culturiste au genre fluide à Hong Kong
par Siufung Law
« 97...! 98…! Où est 98? 98! Veuillez revenir dans la queue!... 99! 100...! » La gérante des coulisses a demandé sans relâche à chaque athlète de faire la queue dans les coulisses humides, en sueur et surpeuplées. (...)
< illustration : « Quand iels nous verront », par Lame Dilotsotlhe
Naseeb Miloud Karfana
Fadila M.
Fadila M. était une activiste “tribale” Soulaliyate d’Azrou, dans la province marocaine d’Ifrane. Elle s'est battue contre une forme spécifique de discrimination à l'égard des femmes “tribales” liée à la propriété foncière.
Dans le cadre du Mouvement en faveur des droits fonciers des femmes Soulaliyates, elle a travaillé pour la révision de la législation-cadre relative à la gestion des biens communautaires, avec l'adoption en 2019 de trois projets de lois garantissant l'égalité des femmes et des hommes.
Selon le droit coutumier en vigueur, les femmes n'avaient pas le droit de bénéficier de la terre, surtout celles qui étaient célibataires, veuves ou divorcées. Au Maroc, les droits à la terre collective se transmettaient traditionnellement entre les membres masculins de plus de 16 ans issus d’une même famille. Depuis 2007, Fadila M. faisait partie du mouvement des femmes, à savoir la première mobilisation populaire nationale de revendication de leurs droits fonciers. Parmi leurs victoires, citons le fait qu'en 2012, les femmes Soulaliyates ont pu, pour la première fois, s'inscrire sur les listes de bénéficiaires et disposer d'une indemnisation liée à la cession des terres. Le mouvement a également réussi à faire modifier le dahir de 1919 (décret du roi du Maroc) de façon à garantir aux femmes le droit à l'égalité.
Fadila M. s’est éteinte le 27 septembre 2018. Les circonstances de sa mort, survenue alors qu’elle participait à une marche de protestation sur la question des terres collectives, ne sont pas claires. Si les autorités déclarent que sa mort est accidentelle et qu'elle a fait un arrêt cardiaque sur le chemin de l'hôpital, la section locale de l'Association marocaine des droits de l'homme (AMDH), affirme quant à elle que Fadila a été étouffée par un membre des forces policières arborant un drapeau marocain. Sa famille a demandé qu’une enquête soit menée mais les résultats de l'autopsie n'ont pas été communiqués.
Apprenez-en davantage sur le Mouvement en faveur des droits fonciers des femmes Soulaliyates
Veuillez noter: Nous n'avons pu trouver aucune photo de Fadima M. C'est pourquoi cette illustration (au lieu d'un portrait) représente ce pour quoi elle s'est battue et a travaillé : la terre et le droit d'y vivre et d'avoir accès à cette terre et ce qui y pousse.
Snippet - CSW69 spaces to watch out for - FR
Les espaces de la CSW69 sur lesquels garder un œil
Apprenez-en davantage sur les prochains événements CSW69 co-organisés par l'AWID ci-dessous
Snippet Forum Stories Title (FR)
Récits des Forums de l’AWID
Transnational Embodiments - Editor's Note
Lost For Words |
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| Chinelo Onwualu | Ghiwa Sayegh |
When we are desperate for change, as we are both in illness and insurrection, our language drains of complexity, becomes honed to its barest essentials... As illness and revolution persist, though, the language made in them and about them deepens, lets in more nuance, absorbed in the acutely human experience of encountering one’s limits at the site of the world’s end.
Johanna Hedva
When we began scheming for such an issue with Nana Darkoa, ahead of AWID’s Crear | Résister | Transform: a festival for feminist movements!, we departed from a question that is more of an observation of the state of the world – a desire to shift ground: why do our sexualities and pleasures continue to be tamed and criminalized even as we are told, over and over again, that they bring neither value nor progress? We came to the conclusion that when they are embodied, something about our sexualities works against a world order that continues to manifest itself in border controls, vaccine apartheids, settler colonialism, ethnic cleansing, and rampant capitalism. Could we speak, then, of the disruptive potential of our sexualities? Could we still do that when, in order to be resourced, our movements are co-opted and institutionalized.

When our embodied labor becomes profit in the hands of the systems we seek to dismantle, it is no wonder that our sexualities and pleasures are once again relegated to the sidelines – especially when they are not profitable enough. In many instances during the production of this issue, we asked ourselves what would happen if we refused to accommodate the essential services of capitalism. But can we dare ask that question when we are exhausted by the world? Perhaps our sexualities are so easily dismissed because they are not seen as forms of care. Perhaps what we need is to reimagine pleasure as a form of radical care – one that is also anti-capitalist and anti-institutional.
As we enter our second full year of a global pandemic, our approach to transnational embodiments has had to focus on a single political realization: that taking care is a form of embodiment. And because right now so much of our work is being done without consideration for the borders between and within ourselves, we are all Transnationally Embodied – and we are all failing. We are failing to take care of ourselves and more critically, to take care of each other.
This failure is not of our own making.
Many of our parents thought of labor as transactional, something to be given in exchange for compensation and a guarantee of care. And while that exchange was not always honored, our parents did not expect that their work would provide them fulfillment. They had their leisure, their hobbies, and their communities for that. Today, we their children, who have been conditioned to think of our labor as intertwined with our passion, have no such expectations. We think of work and leisure as one and the same. For too many of us, work has come to embody our whole selves.
However, heteropatriarchal capitalism doesn’t value us, let alone our labor or our sexualities. This is a system that will only demand more and more until you die. And when you die, it will replace you with somebody else. Expectations to be online round the clock mean we simply can’t get away from work, even when we want to. This commercialization of labor, divorcing it from the person, has infiltrated every aspect of our lives and is being perpetuated even in the most feminist, the most radical and revolutionary circles.
Capitalist expectations have always been particularly pernicious to bodies who don’t fit its ideal. And those seeking to consolidate their powers have used the pandemic as an opportunity to target women, sexual minorities, and any others that they see as less than.
This special issue exists because of, and certainly in spite of this.
Almost every contributor and staff member was pushing themselves past their capacity. Every single piece was produced from a place of passion, but also incredible burnout. In a very real way, this issue is an embodiment of transnational labor – and in the digital world we live in, all labor has become transnational labor. As we have to contend with new borders that do not break an old order but reify it, we experienced firsthand, alongside our contributors, how capitalism drains our limits – how it becomes difficult to construct cohesive arguments, especially when these come with a deadline. We collectively became lost for words – because we are lost for worlds.
Feeling lost and alone in the world of heteropatriarchal capitalism is exactly why we need to re-evaluate and rethink our systems of care. In many ways, we turned this issue into a mission of finding pleasure in care. Because it has become more difficult to construct cohesive arguments, visual and creative mediums have come to the forefront. Many who used to write have turned to these mediums as ways to produce knowledge and cut through the mental fog that’s enveloped us all. We brought into the issue other voices, in addition to many whom you heard at the festival, as a way of opening up new conversations, and extending our horizons.

As we are robbed of our words, it is our political duty to continue to find ways to maintain and care for ourselves and each other. So much of our current realities are trying to erase and displace us, while still exploiting our labor. Our embodiment, therefore, becomes a form of resistance; it is the beginning of us finding our way out and into ourselves.
FRMag - Resistance Series
Feminist Resistance Series
Heike Jensen
Dorothy Masuka
“I didn’t plan to be a singer, singing planned to be in me.” - Dorothy Masuka (interview with Mail & Guardian)
One such song titled “Dr. Malan” (named after the pro-apartheid politician D.F. Malan) was banned. She went on to record “Lumumba” (1961), a song about the assassination of the anti-colonial leader Patrice Lumumba. Dorothy’s work and activism attracted the attention of the Special Branch of the South African police and she was forced into a political exile that would span over three decades. Throughout this time, she worked with pro-independence groups including the African National Congress. In 1992, as apartheid started to crumble and Nelson Mandela was released from prison, she returned to South Africa.
Some of her other work includes the first song she recorded in 1953 entitled “Hamba Notsokolo”, a hit in the 1950s and a valued classic. She also wrote “El Yow Phata Phata”, a song that was adapted by Miriam Makeba, making “Pata, Pata” popular internationally.
Rooted in resistance, Dorothy’s music and activism were intertwined, leaving a magnificent and inspiring legacy. She was also widely known as “Auntie Dot”.
On 23 February 2019 at the age of 83, Dorothy passed away in Johannesburg due to ill health.
Watch Dorothy Masuka in an interview with Mail & Guardian
Listen to some of her music:


