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.
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.
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;
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:
Mobilizing urgent responses of international solidarity for WHRDs at risk through our international and regional networks, and our active membership.
Related Content
Join Us - old 5 Apr 2023 (changed by Ritu)
Join Us
By joining AWID, you are becoming part of worldwide feminist organizing, a collective power that is rooted in working across movements and is based on solidarity.
Dora was born in Benue State, Nigeria. She was a globally acclaimed pharmacist, technocrat, erudite scholar and community leader.
Dora’s revolutionary work created a paradigm shift in the Nigerian public service when she served as Director General of National Agency for Food and Drugs Administration and Control (NAFDAC) from 2001-2008. She spearheaded reforms in policy and regulatory enforcement that radically reduced the measure of fake drugs that plagued the Nigerian pharmaceutical sector during her tenure.
Having exemplified the reality of a courageous, competent woman who challenged the ills of a dominantly patriarchal society and drove change, she became an icon for women’s empowerment. She was appointed the Minister of Information and Communication between 2008 and 2010.
She died after a battle with cancer and is survived by her husband, six children and three grandchildren.
O nosso grupo, organização e/ou movimento não recebeu ou mobilizou financiamento de financiadores externos. Devemos participar no inquérito?
Sim! Reconhecemos e valorizamos diferentes motivos pelos quais as feministas nos seus respetivos contextos não dispõem de financiamento externo: desde não serem elegíveis para se candidatar a subsídios e/ou receber dinheiro do exterior, até dependerem de recursos gerados autonomamente como uma estratégia política por si só. Queremos saber mais sobre vocês, independentemente da vossa experiência com financiamento externo.
Snippet FEA Striking against all odds (ES)
Luchar contra viento y marea: la historia de la victoria sin precedentes de la Red de Solidaridad
En enero de 2022, la Red de Solidaridad organizó una huelga con 400 trabajadorxs. ¿Su principal demanda? Aumentar los salarios. La huelga fue convocada después de meses de conversaciones fracasadas con el Ministerio de Asuntos Sociales de Georgia como parte de un conflicto laboral.
Después de semanas de protestar, negociar, hablar con la prensa, resistir represalias y soportar el frío del invierno georgiano, lxs trabajadorxs obtuvieron concesiones sin precedentes del gobierno: aumento de los salarios, prestaciones por maternidad, cobertura de los costos de transporte, el cese de despidos, la compensación por los días de huelga, y más.
La huelga no solo resultó en ganancias materiales, sino que también hizo que lxs trabajadorxs se sintieran unidxs y empoderadxs para defenderse y luchar por condiciones de trabajo dignas ahora y en el futuro. Se convirtieron en una fuente de inspiración para todxs lxs trabajadorxs del país.
Expande tus fronteras. Lxs afiliadxs de AWID representan de forma creciente una intersección diversa y vibrante de feministas que trabajan, entre otras cosas, en temáticas asociadas a la tierra, los derechos de lxs trabajadorxs, los derechos sexuales y la autonomía corporal. Al afiliarte, puedes conectar tus luchas con las de otros movimientos.
Su’ad fue una firme defensora de los derechos de las mujeres y lxs niñxs y estuvo al frente de Al-Weed Al-Alaiami, una organización de derechos humanos iraquí.
Participó en las manifestaciones que tuvieron lugar en julio de 2018 en Basra y en varias otras ciudades iraquíes, en protesta contra el desempleo y en demanda de trabajo y servicios públicos adecuados para la ciudadanía, y exigiendo también la eliminación de la corrupción generalizada.
Su’ad fue asesinada el 25 de septiembre de 2018, en el barrio de Al-Abbasiyah, en el centro de Basra. En un video del hecho, se veía a una persona que se le acercaba mientras ella se subía a su automóvil, le disparaba un tiro en la parte posterior de la cabeza y apuntaba el siguiente disparo a Hussain Hassan, su chofer, quien resultó herido en un hombro. Al-Ali tenía 46 años y era madre de cuatro hijxs.
حالياً سيتواجد الاستطلاع على منصة KOBO باللغات العربية، الإنجليزية، الفرنسية، البرتغالية، الروسية والاسبانية. ستكون لديكم/ن الفرصة لاختيار اللغة التي تريدون تعبئة الاستطلاع بها في بداية الاستطلاع.
Snippet FEA Union Otras (FR)
SYNDICAT OTRAS
L’Organisation Sindicale des Travailleur·euses du Sexe (Organización Sindical de Trabajadoras del Sexo, OTRAS) est le premier syndicat de travailleur·euses du sexe de l'histoire de l'Espagne. Le syndicat est née de la nécessité de garantir les droits sociaux, juridiques et politiques des travailleur·euses du sexe dans un pays où les mouvements d'extrême droite se renforcent au jour le jour.
Après des années de lutte contre le système juridique espagnol et les groupes abolitionnistes du travail du sexe qui ont appelé à sa fermeture, OTRAS a finalement obtenu son statut légal de syndicat en 2021.
Son objectif? Décriminaliser le travail du sexe et garantir des conditions et des environnements de travail décents pour tous·tes les travailleur·euses du sexe.
Le syndicat représente plus de 600 travailleur·euses du sexe, dont beaucoup de personnes immigrantes, racialisées, trans, queer, ou de genre non-conforme.
My Queer Ramadan
by Amal Amer, California, US
I pray with my family for the first time in six years while wrapped in a keffiyah I scavenged from a dumpster.
Since coming into myself, I have refused to pray in jamaat with my family. Joining in the ranks of hierarchy, “women” behind “men” irks me. It grates my skin and teeth to the degree where I can’t focus, and the standing, bowing, and kneeling feels like a battle against my true being. Each second listening, a betrayal of my nature. Instead, I pray by myself in my own way.
Yet this Ramadan, I feel different. Back in my childhood home after many years, I am choosing to fast. I choose suhoor with my family, and praying together feels like a natural extension of eating together. After eating, my mother, father, brother and I line up for fajr.
I pray behind Baba, but my prayer is my own. I close my eyes, staying with my breath and my body.
My eyes closed, I open my inner sight to a wide open window on a vista of mountains, bright sun spreading over a light mist of clouds. This was the view I had while praying in jamaat at a queer Muslim wedding I attended in the mountains of the South of France last September.
I lined up with the wedding guests, queer and trans folks of North and West African, Arab, and European descent. Folks of all faiths joined while some chose to stand in respect at the sides or behind. The groups did not fall along fault lines of “Muslim” or “non-Muslim,” “religious” or “non religious.” The two lovers marrying each led us in prayer, and so did the Muslim woman officiating the nikkah. Each of the three led us in two rounds of prayers, two raqat.
I showed up as I was, my body uncovered. I had not washed. I only passed my camera to a friend who chose to stand at the side.
In the first sujood, I broke down crying. I wore a jean dress that loves my body, one found at a thrift store my ex-girlfriend pointed me to.
The sobs come through my whole body during the prayer, and I put my head to the earth with my community like a homecoming. A return to the embrace of love both intensely personal and communal, and I am held.
It feels like swimming in the sea with multiple people: joyful togetherness. But when you go beneath the water, it’s just you and the current.
Like a dozen people buried in the same graveyard. Separate, but sharing the same soil. Becoming one with the growing earth.
That was how it felt to pray in communion at a queer Muslim wedding.
I welcomed the light of acceptance while showing up as myself that day, with a group of people who had also chosen to claim all the parts of themselves in love. That light made a home in me, and it illuminates my heart in the dark living room at fajr this Ramadan morning. Though I pray with my birth family who do not accept all of me, I see myself praying in jamaat at that glorious wedding with all of my queer Muslim ancestors, my queer angels, my lineage, my soul family, my queer Muslim family, all standing in prayer. Bowing as one.
My family’s home does not always feel like my own, though I am here now. I take the bukhoor from room to room, barefoot. Smolder from the censer, an incense that says, “Here I am.” Baraka, blessings from the source of all, Allah and the Goddess to each room in the house, bidding good and dispersing the unbidden.
As I write this the sky turns the same royal blue I am familiar with from exiting the club and pulling all-nighters. It is the gradient of morning I step into as I go to sleep.
Word meanings:
Ramadan: the Muslim holy month, traditionally observed with 29 days of fasting without food or water during daylight hours
Keffiyah: a patterned scarf common in the SWANA region. The black and white version referred to here is associated with the Palestinian liberation movement
Pray in jamaat: Islamic ritual prayer in a group. Participants follow one person, traditionally male, who calls the prayer aloud.
Suhoor: the meal before the fast starts at dawn
Fajr: the dawn prayer
Baba: father
Raqat: one round of prayer consisting of standing, bowing, kneeling, and pressing the head to the ground
Sujood:the prayer position when one presses one’s head to the earth
Nikkah: the religious marriage ceremony
Bukhoor: an Arabic incense, woodchips soaked in resin
Pictures of angels in my life, just some women and non-binary people of color hanging out, taking care of themselves and expressing love to each other. It's these simplest moments that are the most empowering.
Nous célébrons le droit de chacun·e à choisir son identité, ses relations, ses objectifs, son travail, ses rêves et ses plaisirs, et ce qu'iel fait de son esprit, de son corps et de son âme. Nous croyons qu'il est nécessaire de travailler à l'accès aux ressources, aux informations et à des environnements sûrs et favorables qui permettent d'atteindre cet objectif.
Después del amor la primera vez,
nuestros cuerpos y mentes desnudas:
un salón de espejos.
Totalmente desarmadxs, íntegramente frágiles,
nos echamos en los brazos del otrx,
respiramos con cuidado,
por miedo de romper
estas figuras de cristal". - Fahmida Riaz
Fahmida Riaz rompió tabúes sociales al escribir sobre el deseo femenino en su poesía, creó narrativas alternativas sobre el cuerpo y la sexualidad de las mujeres y estableció nuevos estándares en la literatura urdu.
Su trabajo se enfrentó a duras críticas de los frentes conservadores, que la acusaron de utilizar expresiones eróticas y "pornográficas" en su lenguaje poético.
Eventualmente, Fahmida fue incluida en una lista negra y acusada de sedición en virtud del artículo 124A del Código Penal de Pakistán, durante la dictadura de Zia Ul Haq. Fahmida fue obligada a exiliarse en 1981 y pasó casi siete años en la India antes de regresar a Pakistán.
En el prefacio de "Badan Dareeda" ("El Cuerpo Desgarrado"), una colección de poesía publicada en 1974, escribió:
Si, de hecho, me veo obligada a pararme ante este maqtal hoy y enfrentarme a la horca, debería enfrentarme a ellos con la cabeza bien alta. Mis poemas son el rastro de una cabeza destrozada de la que emanan sonidos incluso mientras cuelga de las cuerdas... El cuerpo desgarrado ha tomado la forma de una razmia, o el sonido de la ruptura. Y si tal ruptura escandaliza a un pueblo, entonces consideremos que la poeta ha logrado su propósito: ha logrado perturbarlos. (Traducción del urdu por Asad Alvi)
La brillantez de Fahmida fue la de desafiar cualquier lógica singular o categoría de género, nación, religión o cultura. Ella se negó a ser colocada en el rol de la "mujer poeta", rompió con las definiciones tradicionales de la poesía y los conceptos y temas femeninos (que van desde la conciencia política, el cuerpo, la cultura, el deseo, la religión, al hogar) y derribó las inhibiciones impuestas a su género.
"Tienes que entender que la cultura no puede tener esencia. Las culturas se mueven, fluyen unas en otras, formando nuevas culturas. La cultura nace de esa manera. No hay choque de culturas".
Fahmida es autora de más de 15 libros de poesía y ficción, incluido su poema "Taaziyati Qaraardaaden" ("Resoluciones de condolencia" - en inglés), que podría servir como un tributo apropiado a su vida y legado, y una colección de poemas (Apna Jurm To Saabit He "Mi crimen está probado") publicado en 1988, durante su tiempo en exilio.
Fahmida Riaz nació en Meerut (India) el 28 de julio de 1946 y falleció el 21 de noviembre de 2018 en Lahore (Pakistán).
