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.”
Roxana Reyes Rivas, philosopher, feminist, lesbian, poet, politician and LGBT and women’s rights activist from Costa Rica. Owner of a sharp pen and incisive humour, a laugh a minute. She was born in 1960 and raised in San Ramón of Alajuela, when it was a rural town, and her whole life she would break away from the mandates of what it meant to be a woman.
With El Reguero (Costa Rican lesbian group) she organized lesbian festivals for over a decade, fun-filled formative spaces to come together at a time when the Costa Rican government and society persecuted and criminalized the lesbian existence. For hundreds of women the lesbian festivals where the only place they could be themselves and come together with others like them.
Roxana would often say founding political parties was one of her hobbies. “It’s important for people to understand there are other ways to do politics, that many issues need to be solved collectively”. She was one of the founders of the New Feminist League and VAMOS, a human rights focused political party.
“The philosophical trade is meant to jab, to help people ask themselves questions. A philosopher who doesn’t irritate anyone is not doing her job”. For 30 years Roxana taught philosophy at several Costa Rican public universities. Through her guidance, generations of students reflected about the ethical dilemmas in science and technology.
Roxana’s favourite tool was humour, she created the Glowing Pumpkin award, an acknowledgement to ignorance that she would bestow upon public figures, through her social media channels, mocking their anti-rights expressions and statements.
An aggressive cancer took Roxana at the end of 2019, before she could publish a compilation of her poems, a departing gift from the creative mind of a feminist who always raised her voice against injustice.
The data from our tribute indicate that Mexico is a particularly dangerous country for defenders. Out of the 12 Mexican Women Human Rights Defenders (WHRDs) we commemorate in this years’ Tribute, 11 were murdered. They were journalists, women’s rights advocates, trans* rights and social activists. Join us in remembering and honoring these WHRDs, their work and legacy by sharing the memes below and tweeting by using the hashtags #WHRDTribute and #16Days.
Please click on each image below to see a larger version and download as a file
Co-créer un espace politique pour les mouvements féministes
Du 27 au 30 avril 2026, l’AWID participera à la Conférence Women Deliver 2026, en co‑créant un espace politique avec les mouvements féministes et de justice de genre, ancré dans le care et la solidarité transnationaux.
À une époque où le fascisme et la militarisation continuent de progresser à l’échelle mondiale, la connexion féministe et la solidarité au‑delà des frontières sont plus que jamais essentielles. Nous organisons plusieurs espaces, à Women Deliver et en ligne, pour connecter les mouvements entre eux à travers des espaces de dialogue, afin de construire des agendas féministes de solidarité et d’action.
Host: We tend to think about communicating desire as something that is limited to the private intimacy of the bedroom and our personal relationships. But can we also think of this kind of communication as a structure, a praxis that informs our work, and how we are, how we do in the world?
Lindiwe
I believe that unfortunately in the past, expressing your sexuality has been limited. You were allowed to express it within the confines of your marriage, which was permitted, there have always been taboo and stigmas attached to expressing it any other way. When it comes to communicating, obviously the fact that certain stigmas are attached to expressing your sexuality or expressing your desire makes it a lot harder to communicate that in the bedroom or intimately with your partner. From my personal experience, I do believe that obviously if I feel more comfortable expressing myself outside of the bedroom on other matters or other topics, it’s easier for me to build that trust, because you understand conflict resolution with that particular person, you understand exactly how to make your communication special towards that particular person. It’s not easy. It’s something that is consistently done throughout whatever your engagement is, whether it’s your relationship or whether it’s casual and just in the moment. But I believe that confidence outside can definitely translate to how you communicate your desire.
Manal
Since childhood, a woman is raised with that, “you’re not allowed to talk about your body, you’re not allowed to talk about your desire,” which puts a heavy responsibility on women, especially girls in their teens when they need to express themselves and talk about these issues. So for me I think this is a big problem. You know, I have been married for more than 25 years, but still, until now, I cannot talk about my desires. I cannot say what I want or what I prefer, because it’s like I’m not allowed to go beyond this line. It’s like haram, despite it being my right. This is the case for all my friends, they just can’t express themselves in the right way.
Louise
Personally, I find that expressing our desires, my desires, however that expression comes in hand, has to do with the other, and the gaze that the other would have on me. So this is also something that we can link to cinema. And the gaze I would have on myself as well: what I think I am as an individual, but also what society expects of me and my sexuality. In the past, I somehow did the analogy between what happens in the bedroom and what happens in the workplace, because there is sometimes this dynamic of power, whether I want it or not. And oftentimes, verbal communication is harder than we think. But when it comes to representation in film, that’s a totally different game. We are very far away from what I guess all of us here would like to see on screen when it comes to just communicating sexual desires inside or outside the bedroom.
Online and Embodied
Host: We can think about the digital world as embodied: while it might be virtual, it is not less real. And this was made clear in the context of AWID’s feminist realities festival, which took place entirely online. What does it mean then to talk about sexuality, collectively, politically, in online spaces? Do we navigate virtual spaces with our bodies and affects, and in this case, what are the different considerations? What does it do to communication and representation?
Lindiwe
Social media makes you feel community-based. When you express what it is that you want or like, there is someone who’s either going to agree or disagree, but those who do agree make you feel that you belong to a community. So it’s easier to throw it out into the universe, or for others to see, and potentially not get as much judgment. And I say this very loosely because sometimes, depending on what it is that you’re expressing, it either will get you vilified or celebrated. But when it comes to the bedroom, there is an intimacy and almost a vulnerability that is exposing you and different parts of you that is not as easy to give your opinion on. When it comes to expressing your desire, speaking it and saying it and maybe putting a Tweet or a social media post, or even liking and reading other communities that are same-minded is a lot easier than telling your partner, “this is how I want to be pleasured” or “this is how what I want you to do next,” because of the fear of rejection. But not only that, just the vulnerability aspect – allowing yourself to be bare enough to let the other person see into what you are thinking, feeling, and wanting – I think this is where the difference would come in for me personally. I feel it is a lot more community-based on social media, and it’s easier to engage in discourse. Whereas in the bedroom, you don’t want to necessarily kill the moment. But I think that also kind of helps you understand going forward, depending on the relationship with the person, how you would engage thereafter. So I always know that if I try to communicate something and I fail to do so in the moment, I can always try to bring it up outside of that moment and see what the reaction would be so I know how to approach it going forward.
Louise
You know the question in films is, I don’t know if the male gaze is done intentionally or not. Like we don’t really know that. What we know is that the reason why sexuality in general has been so heternormative and focused on penetration and not giving any space for women to actually ask for anything in films, is because most of the people who have been working in this industry and making decisions in terms of, you know, storytelling and editing have been white men. So rape revenge is this very weird film genre that was birthed in the 70s, and half of the story would be that a woman is being raped by one or multiple people, and in the other half, she would get her revenge. So usually she would murder and kill the people who have raped her, and sometimes other people next to them. At the beginning of the birth of this genre and for 30 years at least, those films were written, produced, and directed by men. This is why we also want so much representation. A lot of feminists and pioneers in queer filmmaking also used the act of filming in order to do that and to reclaim their own sexuality. I’m thinking about Barbara Hammer, who’s a feminist and queer pioneer in experimental cinema in the U.S. where she decided to shoot women having sex on 16mm, and by doing so reclaimed a space within the narrative that was exposed in film at that time. And there is also then the question of invisibilization: we know now, because of the internet and sharing knowledge, that women and queer filmmakers have been trying and making films since the beginning of cinema. We only realize it now that we have access to databases and the work of activists and curators and filmmakers.
Resisting Colonization
Host: And this opens up the conversation on the importance of keeping our feminist histories alive. The online worlds have also played a crucial role in documenting protests and resistance. From Sudan to Palestine to Colombia, feminists have taken our screens by storm, challenging the realities of occupation, capitalism, and oppression. So could we speak of communicating desire – the desire for something else – as decolonization?
Manal
Maybe because my village is just 600 residents and the whole village is one family – Tamimi – there are no barriers between men and women. We do everything together. So when we began our non-violent resistance or when we joined the non-violent resistance in Palestine, there was no discussion whether women should participate or not. We took a very important role within the movement here in the village. But when other villages and other places began to join our weekly protests, some men thought that if these women participate or join the protests, they will fight with soldiers so it will be like they’re easy women. There were some men who were not from the village who tried to sexually harass the women. But a strong woman who is able to stand in front of a soldier can also stand against sexual harassment. Sometimes, when other women from other places join our protest, they are shy at first; they don’t want to come closer because there are many men. If you want to join the protest, if you want to be part of the non-violent movement, you have to remove all these restrictions and all these thoughts from your mind. You have to focus on just fighting for your rights. Unfortunately, the Israeli occupation realizes this issue. For example, the first time I was arrested, I wear the hijab so they tried to take it off; they tried to take off my clothes, in front of everybody. There were like 300-400 people and they tried to do it. When they took me to the interrogation, the interrogator said: “we did this because we want to punish other women through you. We know your culture.” So I told him: “I don’t care, I did something that I believe in. Even if you take all my clothes off, everybody knows that Manal is resisting.”
Lindiwe
I think even from a cultural perspective, which is very ironic, if you look at culture in Africa, prior to getting colonized, showing skin wasn’t a problem. Wearing animal skin and/or hides to protect you, that wasn’t an issue and people weren’t as sexualized unless it was within context. But we conditioned ourselves to say, “you should be covered up” and the moment you are not covered up you are exposed, and therefore it will be sexualized. Nudity gets sexualized as opposed to you just being naked; they don’t want a little girl to be seen naked. What kind of society have we conditioned ourselves to be if you’re going to be sexualizing someone who is naked outside of the context of a sexual engagement? But environment definitely plays a big role because your parents and your grannies and your aunts say “no, don’t dress inappropriately,” or “no, that’s too short.” So you hear that at home first, and then the moment you get exposed outside, depending on the environment, whether it’s a Eurocentric or more westernized environment to what you are used to, then you are kind of free to do so. And even then, as much as you are free, there’s still a lot that comes with it in terms of catcalling and people still sexualizing your body. You could be wearing a short skirt, and someone feels they have the right to touch you without your permission. There is so much that is associated with regulating and controlling women’s bodies, and that narrative starts at home. And then you go out into your community and society and the narrative gets perpetuated, and you realize that you get sexualized by society at large too, especially as a person of color.
Resistance as Pleasure
Host: And finally, in what ways can our resistance be more than what we are allowed? Is there a place for pleasure and joy, for us and our communities?
Louise
Finding pleasure as resistance and resistance in pleasure, first for me there is this idea of the guerrilla filmmaking or the action of filming when you’re not supposed to or when someone told you not to, which is the case for a lot of women and queer filmmakers in the world right now. For example, in Lebanon, which is a cinema scene that I know very well, most of the lesbian stories that I’ve seen were shot by students in very short formats with “no production value” as the west would say – meaning with no money, because of the censorship that happens on an institutional level, but also within the family and within the private sphere. I would think that filming whatever, but also filming pleasure and pleasure within lesbian storytelling is an act of resistance in itself. A lot of times, just taking a camera and getting someone to edit and someone to act is extremely hard and requires a lot of political stance.
Lindiwe
I have a rape support group. I’m trying to assist women to reintegrate themselves from a sexual perspective: wanting to be intimate again, wanting to not let their past traumas influence so much how they move forward. It’s not an easy thing, but it’s individual. So I always start with understanding your body. I feel the more you understand and love and are proud of it, the more you are able to allow someone else into that space. I call it sensuality training, where I get them to start seeing themselves as not sexual objects, but as objects of pleasure and desire that can be interchangeable. So you’re worthy of receiving as well as giving. But that’s not only from a psychological point of view; it is physical. When you get out of the shower, you get out of the bath, and you’re putting lotion on your body, look at every part of your body, feel every part of your body, know when there are changes, know your body so well that should you get a new pimple on your knee, you are so aware of it because just a few hours ago it wasn’t there. So things like that where I kind of get people to love themselves from within, so they feel they are worthy of being loved in a safe space, is how I gear them towards claiming their sexuality and their desire.
Manal
You know we began to see women coming from Nablus, from Jerusalem, from Ramallah, even from occupied 48, who have to drive for 3-4 hours just to come to join the protests. After that we tried to go to other places, talk with women, tell them that they don’t have to be shy, that they should just believe in themselves and that there is nothing wrong in what we are doing. You can protect yourself, so where is the wrong in participating or in joining? Once I asked some women, “why are you joining?” And they said, “if the Tamimi women can do it, we can do it also.” To be honest I was very happy to hear this because we were like a model for other women. If I have to stand for my rights, it should be all my rights, not just one or two. We can’t divide rights.
«Yo no planeaba ser una cantante, el canto planeó estar en mí.» - Dorothy Masuka (entrevista de Mail & Guardian)
Dorothy Masuka, nacida en 1935 en Bulawayo (en ese momento Rodesia del Sur, ahora Zimbabue), creció en Sudáfrica, y se convirtió en una reconocida compositora, cantante de jazz, activista, y defensora ferviente de la lucha contra el apartheid. Definida como «una arquitecta del discurso de la música popular africana de liberación», Dorothy a menudo cantaba sobre política en lenguas indígenas africanas y, a través de todo su trabajo, confrontó las políticas racistas del gobierno sudafricano.
Una de estas canciones, titulada «Dr. Malan» (por el político pro-apartheid D.F. Malan) fue prohibida. Luego, en 1961, grabó «Lumumba», una canción sobre el asesinato del líder anticolonial Patrice Lumumba. El trabajo y el activismo de Dorothy atrajeron la atención de la División Especial de la policía sudafricana, y fue forzada a un exilio político que se prolongaría durante tres décadas. Durante ese tiempo, trabajó con grupos independentistas, incluido el Congreso Nacional Africano. En 1992, cuando el apartheid comenzó a desmoronarse y Nelson Mandela fue liberado de prisión, Dorothy regresó a Sudáfrica.
Su trabajo incluye la primera canción que grabó, en 1953, titulada «Hamba Notsokolo», que fue un éxito durante la década de 1950, y hoy es un clásico muy valorado. También escribió «El Yow Phata Phata», una canción que fue adaptada por Miriam Makeba, quien hizo de «Pata, Pata» un hit internacional.
Arraigados en la resistencia, la música y el activismo de Dorothy (popularmente conocida como «Auntie Dot» [«Tía Dot»]) estaban entretejidos, y dejaron un legado magnífico e inspirador.
Dorothy falleció en Johannesburgo el 23 de febrero de 2019 a la edad de 83 años, por problemas de salud.
En nuestro Tributo Virtual 2015 a las defensoras de derechos humanos que ya no están con nosotros/as recordamos a cuatro mujeres del África subsahariana, tres de las cuales fueron asesinadas por el trabajo que realizaban y/o por su identidad de género y orientación sexual. Sus muertes ponen en evidencia la violencia que suelen enfrentar las personas LGBT en la región y en el mundo. Únete a AWID para honrar a estas defensoras de derechos humanos, su trabajo y su legado, compartiendo los memes aquí incluidos con tus colegas, amistades y redes; y tuiteando las etiquetas #WHRDTribute y #16Días.
Por favor, haz click en cada imagen de abajo para ver una versión más grande y para descargar como un archivo.
Réception de l’AWID : Une soirée de communauté féministe
📅 Mardi 28 avril
🕒 6 18 h 30 – 21 h 30 🏢 Venue: River’s Edge, 18-31 Siddeley St (à 5 minutes à pied du Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre, de l’autre côté de la rivière)
Cette édition du journal, en partenariat avec Kohl : a Journal for Body and Gender Research (Kohl : une revue pour la recherche sur le corps et le genre) explorera les solutions, propositions et réalités féministes afin de transformer notre monde actuel, nos corps et nos sexualités.
Esther Mwikali habitait dans le village de Mithini, dans le comté de Murang’a au Kenya. Activiste des droits fonciers, importante et appréciée, elle travaillait sur les abus à l’égard de squatters vivant sur des terres revendiquées par des magnats. Esther a participé à une enquête qui comprenait également des violations de droits fonciers à Makaya par de puissants individus.
Suite à l’absence d’Esther lors d’une réunion de village, une équipe de patrouille est partie à sa recherche. Le 27 août 2019, deux jours après sa disparition, on retrouva son corps dans une ferme proche de sa propriété, montrant des signes de torture. Elle fut sauvagement assassinée.
« Esther était reconnue pour son travail auprès des membres de la communauté, empêchant les évictions de terres revendiquées des magnats. Les activistes du coin n’ont aucun doute sur le lien entre son meurtre et les luttes constantes pour les terres dans la région. C’est un tragique rappel de la fréquence alarmante d’assassinats extrajudiciaires régulièrement menés au Kenya » - Global Wittness Report, juillet 2020
« Nous associons la mort de Mwikali aux luttes pour les terres par ici. Nous demandons au gouvernement de mener une enquête sur ce sujet au plus tôt. » - James Mburu, porte-parole des squatters
« Des mesures devraient être prises à l’égard des individus suspectés d’avoir menacé les squatters, et notamment la famille Mwikali. » - Alice Karanja, National Coalition of Human Rights Defenders (coalition nationale des défenseur·e·s des droits humains)
« L’impact de son travail et sa ténacité demeureront encore en vie pour les prochaines décennies au Kenya. CJGEA console avec les personnes endeuillées et appelle à la justice. » - Center for Justice and Governmental Action (Centre pour la justice et l’action gouvernementale, CJGEA) communiqué de presse, 13 septembre 2019
Our individual and institutional members come from ALL regions of the world and 163 countries. Our latest members join us from France, South Sudan, the United Kingdom, and Lebanon. All of our members bring with them a rich and diverse array of perspectives, experiences, knowledge, energy and inspiration!
Did you know about our weekly member profiles?
One of the benefits of being an AWID member, is having your story featured on awid.org, in our newsletters which go out to 35,000 subscribers, and via our social media channels which have over 60,000 followers.
If you have any difficulties and require support with the sign-up process, please do not hesitate to contact us at membership@awid.org
What Our Members Say
"We have found AWID to be a very exciting network and we are involved in many of its platforms." - Engabu Za Tooro (AWID institutional member)
"I am looking forward to a fruitful engagement with the team. Feeling great. Thanks for accepting me as a member." - R. Chakraborty (AWID individual member)
"Thank you so much AWID, your work is tremendous. I really appreciated your efforts." - E. Khan (AWID individual member)
Snippet - WD2026 - Fiji Hub - EN
📍 Hub in Fiji: DIVA for Equality Fiji
📅 27 - 28 April
From Nadi to Narrm is a two-day feminist organizing space connecting Pacific grassroots movements in Fiji to Women Deliver 2026. It brings together women, LBTQI+ people and communications in all our diversity to share lived realities and build power. Grounded in DIVA for Equality’s human rights and feminist approach, the 2-day sessions will focus on direct voices and advocacy on social, economic, ecological, gender and climate justice intersectional impacts on women and marginalized communities in Fiji.
¿Existe una metodología preferida para las actividades?
La Convocatoria de Actividades enumera una lista de sugerencias para formatos y metodologías. Sé creativx y asegúrate de leer la sección «Lo que debes saber».
