Women human rights defenders (WHRDs) worldwide defend their lands, livelihoods and communities from extractive industries and corporate power. They stand against powerful economic and political interests driving land theft, displacement of communities, loss of livelihoods, and environmental degradation.
Why resist extractive industries?
Extractivism is an economic and political model of development that commodifies nature and prioritizes profit over human rights and the environment. Rooted in colonial history, it reinforces social and economic inequalities locally and globally. Often, Black, rural and Indigenous women are the most affected by extractivism, and are largely excluded from decision-making. Defying these patriarchal and neo-colonial forces, women rise in defense of rights, lands, people and nature.
Critical risks and gender-specific violence
WHRDs confronting extractive industries experience a range of risks, threats and violations, including criminalization, stigmatization, violence and intimidation. Their stories reveal a strong aspect of gendered and sexualized violence. Perpetrators include state and local authorities, corporations, police, military, paramilitary and private security forces, and at times their own communities.
Acting together
AWID and the Women Human Rights Defenders International Coalition (WHRD-IC) are pleased to announce “Women Human Rights Defenders Confronting Extractivism and Corporate Power”; a cross-regional research project documenting the lived experiences of WHRDs from Asia, Africa and Latin America.
We encourage activists, members of social movements, organized civil society, donors and policy makers to read and use these products for advocacy, education and inspiration.
AWID acknowledges with gratitude the invaluable input of every Woman Human Rights Defender who participated in this project. This project was made possible thanks to your willingness to generously and openly share your experiences and learnings. Your courage, creativity and resilience is an inspiration for us all. Thank you!
Winnie has been described as a “militant firebrand activist” who fought the apartheid regime in South Africa.
She was imprisoned multiple times, and on many occasions placed in solitary confinement.
Ma’Winnie, as she is affectionately remembered, was known for being outspoken about the challenges Black women faced during and after apartheid, having been on the receiving end of these brutalities herself as a mother, wife and activist during the struggle. She transcended the misconception that leadership is gender, class or race-based. Despite being a controversial figure, she is remembered by many by her Xhosa name, “ Nomzamo”, which means "She who endures trials".
Ma’Winnie continues to be an inspiration to many, particularly young South African women for whom her death has spurred a burgeoning movement, with the mantra: "She didn't die, she multiplied."
¡Sí, por favor! Te alentamos a compartir el enlace a la encuesta con tus redes. Cuanto más diversas sean las opiniones que recolectemos, más completa será nuestra comprensión del panorama financiero para las organizaciones feministas.
Mai 2015: les consultations sur la version préliminaire du document final ont lieu
Pour permettre d’améliorer le document final, des sessions complémentaires ad hoc portant sur cette version révisée du document final ont été organisées du 12 au 15 mai 2015, puis du 26 au 29 mai 2015, au siège de l’ONU à New York.
Our arepa: Resistance from the Kitchen
by Alejandra Laprea, Caracas, Venezuela (@alejalaprea)
I live in a country of the impossible, where there are no bombs yet we are living in a war.
A war that exists only for those of us living in this territory.
I live in a country no one understands, which few can really see, where various realities co-exist, and where the truth is murdered time and again.
I live in a country where one has to pay for the audacity of thinking for oneself, for taking on the challenge of seeing life another way.
I live in a country of women who have had to invent and reinvent, time and again, how they live and how to get by.
I live in Venezuela, in a time of an unusual and extraordinary threat.
Since 2012 my country has been subjected to an unconventional war. There are no defined armies or fire power. Their objective is to dislocate and distort the economy, affecting all households, daily life, the capacity of a people to dream and build a different kind of politics, an alternative to the patriarchal, bourgeois, capitalist democracy.
Venezuelan women are the primary victims of this economic war. Women who historically and culturally are responsible for providing care, are the most affected and in demand. However, in these years of economic and financial embargo, Venezuelan women have gone from being victims to the protagonists on the front lines defending our territory.
Battles are fought from the barrios, kitchens, and small gardens. We defend the right of girls and boys to go to school, and to be given something so simple as some arepas for breakfast.
Arepas are a kind of corn cake that can be fried, roasted or baked and served sweet or savoury as a side or main dish. It is a staple in the diet of all Venezuelans.
In Venezuela, arepas mean culture, family, food sovereignty, childhood nostalgia, the expert hands of grandmothers molding little balls, the warmth that comforts you when recovering from illness.
Arepas connect us as a people with the pre-Colombian cultures of corn, a resistance that has endured for more than five centuries. They are the Caribbean expressed differently on firm ground.
They are an act of resistance.
When my mother was a girl, they would start grinding the dry corn early in the morning to make arepas. The women would get up and put the kernels of corn in wooden mortars and pound it with heavy mallets to separate the shells. Then they would boil, soak, and grind the corn to make dough, and finally they would mold it into round arepas. The process would take hours and demand a lot of physical effort.
In the mid-20th century a Venezuelan company industrialized the production of corn meal. For an entire generation that seemed like an act of liberation, since there was now a flour that you could simply add water to and have hot arepas in 45 minutes time.
But that also meant that the same generation would lose the traditional knowledge on how to make them from scratch. My grandmother was an expert arepa maker, my mother saw it as a girl, and for me the corn meal came pre-packaged.
In the war with no military, the pre-cooked corn meal came to be wielded as an instrument of war by the same company that invented it, which was not so Venezuelan anymore: today the Polar group of companies is transnational.
We women began to recuperate our knowledge by talking with the eldest among us. We searched in the back of the closets for our grandmothers’ grinders, the ones we hadn’t thrown away out of affection. Some families still prepared the corn in the traditional way for important occasions. In some towns there were still communal grinding stations which had been preserved as part of local history or because small family businesses refused to die. All of these forms of cultural resistance were activated, and we even went so far as to invent new arepas.
Today we know that in order to resist we cannot depend on one food staple. Although corn arepas continue to be everyone’s favourite, we have invented recipes for arepas made of sweet potato, cassava, squash, and celery root.
We have learned that we can use almost any root vegetable to make arepas. Cooperative businesses have developed semi-industrial processes to make pre-cooked corn meal. In other words, we have recuperated our arepas and their preparation as a cultural good that belongs to all.
My artivism aims to decolonize our senses in everyday life. I like to create spaces that communicate how we weave together our different struggles, and that render visible dissident (re)existences, other possible worlds, and living bodies here in the SOUTH.
As we continue to fight in our struggles, let us remember how essential it is that we support each other, believe each other, and love ourselves and our sisters. When this system fucks us over, we must take time to look after our (physical and mental) health, that of our sisters, and to understand that each one of us carries unique stories, making us fighters in resist
Marga RH (@Marga.RH)
Until dignity becomes a habit
These portraits are inspired by the voices of resistance and protest movements in Latin America, especially by the key role that feminised bodies play in these struggles. It is a tribute to the grassroots feminist movements in resistance.
Barin integraba la unidad de batalla formada íntegramente por mujeres de la Unidad de Protección del Pueblo Kurdo (YPG).
La mataron cuando estaba en servicio activo.
La periodista libanesa Hifaa Zuaiter escribió: «Barin representa todo lo que hemos oído acerca del coraje de las combatientes kurdas, y su muerte es mucho más que el matar a un rival o el resultado de una lucha política o étnica. El horror de exhibir su cuerpo sólo porque es una mujer surge del hecho de que ella se atrevió a amenazar la hegemonía masculina al convertirse en una combatiente en un campo de batalla que se suponía era solo para hombres».
Estas obras son un trabajo colaborativo de fotografías e ilustraciones realizadas por Siphumeze y Katia durante el confinamiento. Muestran narrativas negras queer de sexo y placer, bondage, sexo seguro, juguetes, salud mental y sexo, y mucho más. Fueron creadas para acompañar la antología Touch.
“Mental Health” [«Salud mental»]“Sex and Spirituality” [«Sexo y espiritualidad»]“Orgasm” [«Orgasmo»]
About the Artists:
Siphumeze Khundayi es una creadora de arte, fotógrafa y facilitadora interesada en las formas creativas de unir el diálogo y la práctica artística en relación con la identidad queer africana.
Es directora creativa de HOLAAfrica!, una colectiva en línea mujerista panafricanista.
Sus trabajos de performance individual y en colaboración han sido presentados en numerosos festivales y espacios teatrales, tales como el Ricca Ricca Festival de Japón.
En 2017 y 2018 dirigió dos producciones que fueron nominadas a los Naledi Theatre Awards y, en 2020, obtuvo un premio Standard Bank Ovation.
Como fotógrafa, participó en Italia en una exposición grupal titulada Flowers of my Soul, organizada por The Misfit Project. Produjo tres publicaciones para HOLAAfrica!, y sus trabajos fueron publicados dentro y como tapa del Volume Two: As You Like de las Gerald Kraak Anthologies.
Katia Herrera es una artista visual digital de 21 años, de la ruidosa ciudad de Santo Domingo, en la República Dominicana. A pesar de que se autodefine como introvertida, su obra es notablemente estruendosa en un mundo que intenta acallar las voces negras. Con títulos como “Black Woman” [«Mujer Negra»], “You Own the Moon” [«La Luna es Tuya»], “Earth Goddess” [«Diosa de la Tierra»], “Forever” [«Por Siempre»] y “Universe Protector” [«Protectora del Universo»], el legado de Herrera estará marcado por su pasión por poner de manifiesto la resistencia y la perseverancia de las personas negras del pasado y del presente, en contraposición a la narrativa de que la piel negra debería solamente ser asociada con la esclavitud.
Una de sus obras más hermosas y vivazmente tituladas, “Universe Protector”, representa al alma negra como una entidad divina plena de fortaleza, poder y grandeza. En su juventud, su amor por el diseño gráfico se vio estimulado por el talento artístico de su madre y su padre, y por el programa Photoshop que habían descargado en su computadora para su trabajo profesional de fotografía.
Snippet FEA Get Involved Story 3 (ES)
¡INVOLÚCRATE!
¡Sigue el trabajo de la cooperativa en Facebook e Instagram, comparte sus campañas y mantente al tanto de sus acciones y eventos de recaudación de fondos!
Jacqueline était une éducatrice malienne pionnière de la cause féministe et nationaliste.
Elle a d’abord enseigné l'anglais au Sénégal avant d'être recrutée en 1961 par le Lycée Philippe Zinda Kaboré à Ouagadougou, au Burkina Faso. Etant donné son engagement militant, elle a pris part au soulèvement populaire du 3 janvier 1966. Entre 1961 et 1966, Jacqueline était par ailleurs responsable de la presse syndicale, La voix des enseignants. Elle a été nommée directrice du Cours normal des jeunes filles (aujourd’hui connu sous le nom de lycée Nelson Mandela) jusqu'en 1974 et s'est consacrée à l'éducation des filles et à la promotion des droits des femmes.
En 1984, elle a reçu le prix Paul G. Hoffmann pour sa contribution remarquable en matière de développement national et international.
Como expresión de nuestro compromiso con hacer que todos los aspectos del Foro AWID sean accesibles, aceptaremos propuestas en forma de audio/video cuando se trate de personas/organizaciones/grupos que no puedan enviarlas por escrito. Si decides enviar tu propuesta en formato de audio/video, por favor responde las preguntas en el mismo orden en que aparecen en el Formulario para Presentar Actividades.
Para presentar un archivo de audio/video, por favor escríbenos utilizando nuestro formulario de contacto. Seleccione «propuesta de actividad» como asunto de mensaje.
Colectivo Moriviví est un collectif artistique de femmes. Notre production artistique comprend du muralisme, du muralisme communautaire et des performances/actions de manifestation. Notre travail consiste à démocratiser l'art et à amener les récits des communautés portoricaines dans la sphère publique afin de créer des espaces où ils seront validés. Nous croyons qu’à travers l'artivisme, nous pouvons promouvoir la sensibilisation aux questions sociales et renforcer notre mémoire collective.
“Cacibajagua” 2017, Projet mural. Jiangxi, Chine“Cacibajagua” 2017, Projet mural. Jiangxi, Chine“Paz para la Mujer” (“Paix pour la Femme”) 2015, collaboration avec l’organisation Paz para la Mujer. Santurce, Porto Rico
“Paz para la Mujer” (“Paix pour la Femme”) 2015, collaboration avec l’organisation Paz para la Mujer. Santurce, Porto Rico
Dans le cadre de sa participation au Groupe de Travail d’Artistes d'AWID, le Colectivo Moriviví a réuni un groupe divers de membres, partenaires et personnel pour faciliter un processus collaboratif visant à imaginer, documenter et déterminer le contenu d'une fresque communautaire par le biais d'un processus de co-création en plusieurs étapes. Le projet a commencé par une conceptualisation à distance avec des féministes de différentes régions du monde réuni·e·s par l'AWID, avant d'évoluer vers sa re-contextualisation et sa réalisation à Porto Rico. Nous avons eu l'honneur de bénéficier de la contribution des artistes locaux·ales Las Nietas de Nonó(@lasnietasdenono), de la participation des femmes locales à la session de peinture communautaire, du soutien logistique de la municipalité de Caguas et du soutien supplémentaire du FRIDA | The Young Feminist Fund.
La fresque explore la transcendance des frontières en présentant les corps tels des cartes, dans une étreinte qui met en évidence l'intersection des différentes manifestations, pratiques et réalités féministes.
Nous remercions également Kelvin Rodríguez, qui a documenté et capturé les différentes étapes de ce projet à Porto Rico :
À propos du Colectivo Morivivi
Moriviví est un collectif de jeunes femmes artistes qui travaille sur l'art public depuis Avril 2013. Basé·e·s à Porto Rico, nous sommes reconnu·e·s pour la création de fresques et d'arts dirigés par la communauté.
Le groupe a débuté dans les festivals d'art urbain locaux. Au fur et à mesure que notre travail devenait plus populaire, les organisations et les dirigeant.e.s communautaires ont commencé à nous contacter. Au départ, nous étions huit lycéen·ne·s qui voulaient peindre une fresque ensemble. Cependant, en huit ans de travail acharné, nous avons été confronté·e·s à de nombreux défis. Nous sommes aujourd’hui dans une période de transition. Au cours de l'année qui vient, nous souhaitons restructurer le collectif en interne. Notre objectif est d'ouvrir de nouvelles opportunités pour les collaborateurs·trices et d'étayer notre processus de prise de décisions par un nouveau système d'évaluation. À long terme, nous aspirons à devenir une école alternative de pratiques artistiques pour celles et ceux souhaitant s'immerger dans la production artistique communautaire.
Known as “Ate Liza,” Annaliza was the president of the Agrarian Reform Council for Mindanao Pioneers, an umbrella group in Tacurong City, Philippines.
A loved mother of four, teacher and community leader, Annaliza is remembered by her community as “she who leads when no one wants to lead, she who talks when no one wants to talk, she who stood with courage to help the agrarian reform beneficiaries to own lands.”
Annaliza was shot dead by unknown assailants in front of the Sultan Kudarat State University (SKSU) while on her way to Salabaca National High School in Esperanza.
Her family have said “Naghihintay pa rin kami ng hustisya para sa kanya” (we are still waiting justice for her).
