
Vuyisa Dayisi

In September 2016, the 13th AWID international Forum brought together in Brazil over 1800 feminists and women’s rights advocates in a spirit of resistance and resilience.
This section highlights the gains, learnings and resources that came out of our rich conversations. We invite you to explore, share and comment!
One of the key takeaways from the 2016 Forum was the need to broaden and deepen our cross-movement work to address rising fascisms, fundamentalisms, corporate greed and climate change.
With this in mind, we have been working with multiple allies to grow these seeds of resistance:
And through our next strategic plan and Forum process, we are committed to keep developing ideas and deepen the learnings ignited at the 2016 Forum.
AWID Forums started in 1983, in Washington DC. Since then, the event has grown to become many things to many peoples: an iterative process of sharpening our analyses, vision and actions; a watershed moment that reinvigorates participants’ feminisms and energizes their organizing; and a political home for women human rights defenders to find sanctuary and solidarity.
The personal is political - and fiery and courageous Nadyn Jouny personified this feminist mantra. Nadyn experienced firsthand the pain of structural violence in legal systems that strip women of their rights.
When she decided to file for divorce, the religious Shitte courts under the Lebanese Personal Status laws, denied her custody of her young son Karam. Nadyn, like so many other women across Lebanon and other countries, was caught in the impossible pain of leaving an unwanted and abusive relationship and also losing the rights to her child. But Nadyn fought back, as she would until her last day.
She used her media savvy to become an outspoken voice to women fighting discriminatory family laws in Lebanon and internationally. Nadyn co-founded the self-funded group, “Protecting Lebanese Women” (PLW) and banded with many other Lebanese mothers facing similar custody issues. Together, they advocated to raise awareness of the injustices they were facing, protesting in front of the religious courts for their rights and bringing international media attention to extreme injustices they were facing.
Nadyn also worked with ABAAD - Resource Center for Gender Equality, another women’s rights organization in Lebanon, to campaign for women’s rights, equality in family law and custody and against forced and early marriages.
For many of her colleagues, she came to “symbolize a Lebanese mother’s fight against suppression and misogyny of all sorts," using “her personal experiences and her individual journey of empowerment to give hope to others that they can be a catalyst for positive change.”- ABAAD - Resource Centre for Gender Equality, Lebanon
On October 6, 2019 Nadyn was tragically killed in a car accident on her way to protest unfair tax increases in a country already facing spiralling financial crisis. Nadyn Jouny was only 29 years old at the time of her death.
O objetivo principal do inquérito WITM é chamar a atenção para o estado financeiro dos diversos movimentos feministas, de direitos das mulheres, de justiça de género, de LBTQI+ e de aliados globalmente, e com base nisto, fortalecer ainda mais o argumento para transferir mais recursos de melhor qualidade e poder para os movimentos feministas.
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.
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
Baraka: blessing
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.
< Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women
Doris Valenzuela Angulo fue una activista social afrodescendiente, líder y defensora de los derechos humanos, de Buenaventura, Colombia. Fue parte de Comunidades Construyendo Paz en los Territorios (CONPAZ), una red nacional de organizaciones de comunidades afectadas por el conflicto armado que propugnan la no violencia y la justicia socioambiental.
Doris desafiaba la constante violencia paramilitar y las presiones de los megaproyectos para desplazar a su comunidad, así como la complicidad del Estado. Enfrentando uno de los contextos más difíciles de su país, tuvo un rol de liderazgo en una iniciativa de resistencia no violenta sin precedentes llamado «Espacio Humanitario Puente Nayero», una zona urbana para la cohesión comunitaria, la seguridad, la creatividad y la acción colectiva.
Esta singular lucha no violenta de las familias que pertenecían al «Espacio Humanitario Puente Nayero» atrajo la atención y el apoyo de organismos locales e internacionales. Hacia septiembre de 2014, la Comisión Interamericana de Derechos Humanos había establecido medidas cautelares de protección para la comunidad, y había ordenado al Estado colombiano hacer lo necesario para preservar sus vidas y su integridad personal. Sin embargo, las amenazas y la violencia de los paramilitares continuaron. Doris centró sus energías en evitar el reclutamiento forzoso de niñxs y jóvenes por parte de los neo-paramilitares, y siguió haciéndolo a pesar del asesinato de su hijo Cristian Dainer Aragón Valenzuela en julio de 2015. Doris también se convirtió en blanco de ataques, y recibía amenazas por su activismo y el trabajo que realizaba continuamente.
Las persistentes agresiones y amenazas contra su vida forzaron a Doris a abandonar Colombia. Residió en España desde febrero de 2017 hasta febrero de 2018, e integró el Programa de Protección Temporal de Defensores y Defensoras de los Derechos Humanos de Amnistía Internacional para activistas cuyas vidas están en riesgo.
En abril de 2018, Doris fue asesinada por su ex-marido en Murcia, España. Tenía solamente 39 años.
«Doris, pasar un año entero contigo nos ha enseñado cómo una persona puede tener la capacidad de transformar y generar esperanza ante hechos profundamente negativos y devastadores sucedidos durante tu vida...Seguimos con nuestro compromiso en la defensa de todos los derechos humanos. Siempre nos guiará tu valentía y tu luz.» Montserrat Román, Amnistía Internacional Grupo La Palma
«Tú lo sabías. Siempre lo supiste. Y a pesar de todo te levantaste firme contra tantas injusticias, tantas miserias, tanta persecución.Te alzaste, altiva y feroz, contra aquellos que querían hacerte de nuevo abandonar tus esperanzas, humillarte y rendirte. Puesta en pie clamaste por tu libertad y la nuestra que era la tuya. Nada ni nadie paralizó tus esfuerzos por cambiar el mundo y hacerlo más generoso y habitable. Tú, viva entre nosotras, más viva hoy que nunca entre nosotras a pesar de la muerte. Viva siempre por tus gestos, tu valor, tu grandeza al clamar por una tierra prometida que llegaste a invocar con cada uno de tus gritos por todos los desiertos que habitaste. Tú. Siempre viva. Doris Valenzuela Angulo.
Son sólo palabras. Lo sé. Yo también lo sé. Pero las palabras nos unen, nos protegen, nos dan fuerza y aliento para seguir caminando hacia la luz que tanto defendías.»
Primer Diálogo de Alto Nivel sobre la Financiación para el Desarrollo, 29 y 30 de octubre de 2003
Uno de los mecanismos de seguimiento de la Conferencia de Monterrey fueron los Diálogos de Alto Nivel sobre la Financiación para el Desarrollo organizados cada dos años por la Asamblea General de la ONU. En total, ya se realizaron ocho mesas redondas en las que se ha continuado el Diálogo acerca de distintos temas como los subsidios a la agricultura, el comercio, el alivio de la deuda y la financiación para los ODM. En todas ellas se prestó especial atención a los obstáculos estructurales que colocan en desventaja a las naciones ‘en desarrollo’.
Otros mecanismos de seguimiento a Monterrey son los siguientes:
Não, solicitamos apenas um inquérito completo por grupo.
Bienvenue à Crear | Résister | Transform : un festival dédié aux mouvements féministes !
L'AWID s'engage à créer un espace en ligne qui nous invite et nous pousse tou·te·s à faire preuve de courage, de curiosité, de générosité et de responsabilité partagée.
Nous vous invitons à créer à nos côtés des espaces sans harcèlement ni violence, où chacun·e est respecté·e dans son identité et son expression de genre, sa race, ses capacités, sa classe, sa religion, sa langue, son ethnicité, son âge, sa profession, son type d'éducation, sa sexualité, sa taille et son apparence physique. Des espaces où nous reconnaissons les inégalités de notre monde et où nous nous efforçons de les transformer au gré de nos propres interactions avec les autres.
Soyez là les un·e·s pour les autres en étant activement à l’écoute. Essayons de nous sentir proches, même si tout est virtuel. Pour cela, vous aurez accès à l’interprétation de la discussion et à des moyens de communications ouverts (comme la boîte de dialogue et autres outils) pour réagir et échanger. Nous vous recommandons de porter des écouteurs ou un casque pendant la séance pour mieux entendre les autres et vous faire entendre. Dans la mesure du possible, essayez de fermer votre messagerie électronique ou toute autre distraction pendant que vous prenez part à la discussion.
Célébrons les multiples façons dont le savoir se manifeste dans nos vies. Nous vous invitons à aborder la conversation avec curiosité et ouverture d’esprit pour apprendre des autres, en se permettant de désapprendre et de réapprendre à travers ces échanges, comme une manièrede commencer à construire collectivement des connaissances.
Nous nous engageons à adopter une approche holistique de l'accessibilité en tenant compte des différents besoins physiques, linguistiques, mentaux et de sécurité. Nous voulons un espace qui accueille des personnes d'origines, de croyances, de capacités et d'expériences différentes. Nous anticiperons au mieux mais vous demanderons également de nous communiquer vos besoins, et nous ferons de notre mieux pour y répondre.
Nous nous engageons tou·te·s individuellement et collectivement à respecter la vie privée de chacun·e· et à demander le consentement des autres avant de partager des images ou du contenu qui les concerne, générés au cours de la conversation.
Créer un environnement sécurisé, respectueux et agréable durant ces conversations est la responsabilité de tou·te·s .
Si vous remarquez qu'une personne a un comportement discriminatoire ou offensant, veuillez contacter la personne de référence qui vous sera indiquée en début de session.
Tout·e participant·e qui utilisera un langage ou des images abusives sera exclu·e de la conversation et ne sera pas réadmis·e. Nous n’aurons plus de relations avec cette personne de quelque manière que ce soit.
Les presentamos una inspiradora selección de historias e imágenes poderosas de transformación y resistencia creadas por activistas, escritorxs y artistas feministas de todo el mundo.
Mena Mangal était une éminente journaliste de télévision, défenseure des droits des femmes et conseillère culturelle du Wolesi Jirga, la chambre basse du parlement national afghan.
Pendant plus d’une décennie, Mena a travaillé pour Ariana TC, la chaîne en pashto Lamar de Tolo TV et la chaîne de télévision nationale privée Shamshad TV. Mena était principalement présentatrice d’émissions sur les droits des femmes et la culture.
« La défenseure des droits des femmes Wazhma Frogh a dit que Mangal « se faisait entendre » et s’exprimait ouvertement en faveur de la défense de son peuple. »
Loin des écrans, elle dirigeait également des plateformes sur les réseaux sociaux, promouvant les droits à l’éducation et au travail des filles et femmes afghanes. Sur le plan de sa vie privée, Mena a longuement écrit sur le mariage arrangé qu’elle a été forcée d’accepter en 2017, et le long processus qui s’en est suivi pour finalement obtenir le divorce.
Dans un post sur Facebook, Mena avait écrit qu’elle recevait des menaces de mort de sources inconnues, mais qu’elle continuerait néanmoins son travail.
Elle a été attaquée le 11 mai 2019 par des hommes armés inconnus et tuée en plein jour et dans un espace public, dans le sud-est de Kaboul.
« La situation nous inquiète, car elle a un impact direct sur les femmes qui travaillent en dehors de la maison... Les femmes journalistes changent de profession du fait de l’augmentation des risques auxquels elles sont confrontées. » - Robina Hamdard, défenseure des droits des femmes à Kaboul
ما لم تكن هناك مشكلات في إمكانية الوصول و/أو إذا كنت تملأ/ئي الاستبيان بلغات أخرى، فإننا نشجعك بشدة على استخدام KOBO لجمع وتحليل البيانات الموحدة للاستطلاع.
Colectivo Moriviví is an all women artistic collective. Our artistic production consists of muralism, community-led muralism, and protest performance/actions. Our work is about democratizing art and bringing the narratives of Puerto Rican communities to the public sphere to create spaces in which they are validated. We believe that through artivism we can promote consciousness on social issues and strengthen our collective memory.
As part of their participation in AWID’s Artist Working Group, Colectivo Morivivi gathered a diverse group of members, partners and staff to facilitate a collaborative process of dreaming into, informing, and deciding on the content for a community mural through a multi-stage co-creation process. The project began with a remote conceptualization with feminists from different parts of the planet brought together by AWID, and then it evolved to its re-contextualization and realization in Puerto Rico. We were honored to have the input of local artists Las Nietas de Nonó(@lasnietasdenono), the participation of local women in the Community Painting Session, the logistics support from the Municipality of Caguas, and FRIDA Young Feminist Fund’s additional support to the collective.
The mural explores the transcendence of borders by presenting bodies like a map, in an embrace that highlights the intersection of the different feminist manifestations, practices and realities.
We also thank Kelvin Rodríguez, who documented and captured the different stages of this project in Puerto Rico: