Jean-Marc Ferré | Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
A general view of participants at the 16th session of the Human Rights Council in Geneva, Switzerland.

Human Rights Council (HRC)

The Human Rights Council (HRC) is the key intergovernmental body within the United Nations system responsible for the promotion and protection of all human rights around the globe. It holds three regular sessions a year: in March, June and September. The Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) is the secretariat for the HRC.

The HRC works by:

  • Debating and passing resolutions on global human rights issues and human rights situations in particular countries

  • Examining complaints from victims of human rights violations or activist organizations on behalf of victims of human rights violations

  • Appointing independent experts (known as “Special Procedures”) to review human rights violations in specific countries and examine and further global human rights issues

  • Engaging in discussions with experts and governments on human rights issues

  • Assessing the human rights records of all UN Member States every four and a half years through the Universal Periodic Review

Learn more about the HRC


AWID works with feminist, progressive and human rights partners to share key knowledge, convene civil society dialogues and events, and influence negotiations and outcomes of the session.

With our partners, our work will:

◾️ Monitor, track and analyze anti-rights actors, discourses and strategies and their impact on resolutions

◾️ Raise awareness of the findings of the 2017 and 2021 OURs Trends Reports.

◾️Support the work of feminist UN experts in the face of backlash and pressure

◾️Advocate for state accountability
 
◾️ Work with feminist movements and civil society organizations to advance rights related to gender and sexuality.
 

Related Content

Нужно ли мне как-то подготовиться, чтобы пройти опрос?

Поскольку опрос посвящен исследованию реалий обеспечения феминистских организаций ресурсами, большинство вопросов касаются финансирования вашей организации в период с 2021 по 2023 год. Вам необходимо будет иметь при себе данную информацию для заполнения анкеты (например, годовые бюджеты и информацию об основных источниках финансирования).

Nadine Ramaroson

Nadine fue un ejemplo para muchxs por su trabajo en apoyo de las mujeres y lxs más vulnerables de su comunidad. Estaba comprometida con ayudar a l pobres, especialmente a las personas sin techo. 

Aunque su muerte se informó como accidente, la familia Ramaroson, encabezada por su padre, André Ramaroson, llevó adelante una investigación que arrojó evidencias de que había sido asesinada. Se informó que había muerto en un accidente fatal ocurrido entre Soanierano - Ivongo y Ste Marie, una historia que fue desmentida por su familia. Ella había recibido numerosas amenazas de muerte por sus audaces posiciones políticas. Su caso todavía está en la corte de Antananarivo (la capital de Madagascar).


 

Nadine Ramaroson, Madagascar

Snippet FEA Sopo Japaridze (ES)

Tenemos el placer de presentarte a Sopo Japaridze, feminista feroz, líder sindical y presidenta del sindicato independiente de servicios Red de Solidaridad.

Dejó el país cuando era muy joven para ir a los Estados Unidos, donde se volvió políticamente muy activa como organizadora laboral. Siempre mantuvo a Georgia en su mente todo ese tiempo, hasta que un día, dos décadas después, decidió regresar.

La confederación sindical georgiana existente en este momento era menos que ideal. Entonces, equipada con sus habilidades, conocimientos y experiencia en organización laboral, Sopo regresó a Georgia y formó su propio sindicato.

También es una apasionada investigadora y escritora. Estudia relaciones laborales y sociales, escribe para varias publicaciones y es una de lxs editorxs de Left East, una plataforma analítica de Europa del Este. También cofundó la iniciativa y el podcast de historia política, Reimaginando la Georgia soviética, donde explora las complejidades y los matices de las experiencias del país bajo la Unión Soviética, para entender mejor su pasado y construir un futuro mejor.

Anatomy of a Survivor's Story

Maryum Saifee (@msaifee), New York, USA    

When you do a search for “Female Genital Mutilation” or “FGM” online, an image of four line-drawings of the female anatomy pop up next to its Wikipedia entry. It illustrates four types of violence. The first being a partial cut to the clitoris. The second, a more invasive cut with the entire clitoris removed. The third is progressively worse with the removal of the clitoris, labia majora and minora. And the fourth box illustrates a series of hash marks to symbolize stitches over the vaginal opening to allow only for urination and menstruation.

As a survivor of FGM, most questions about my story fixate on the physical. The first question I usually get asked is what type of FGM I underwent. When I told a journalist once that I went through Type 1, she said “oh, that’s not so bad. It’s not like type three which is far worse.” She was technically right. I had the least invasive form. And for many years, I gaslighted myself into feeling a sense of relief that I was one of the lucky ones. I comforted myself noting that I could have been less fortunate with all of my genitalia gouged out, not just the clitoral tip. Or worse I could have been one of the ones who didn’t survive at all. Like Nada Hassan Abdel-Maqsoud, a twelve year old, who bled to death on a doctor’s operating table earlier this year in Upper Egypt. Nada is a  reminder to me that for every data point -- 200 million women and girls who live with the consequences of FGM globally -- there is a story. Nada will never be able to tell hers.

As much as I find the label “survivor” suffocating at times -- I also realize there is privilege embedded in the word. By surviving, you are alive. You have the ability to tell your story, process the trauma, activate others in your community and gain insights and a new language and lens to see yourself through.

The act of storytelling can be cathartic and liberating, but it can also shatter the storyteller in the process.

Without integrating the psychosocial support of trained clinicians into storytelling and healing retreats, well-intentioned interventions can result in more trauma. This is all the more important as FGM survivors navigate the double pandemic of their own PTSD from childhood trauma, and the indefinite COVID-19 global shutdown.

In many anti-FGM advocacy spaces, I have seen this insatiable hunger to unearth stories -- whatever the cost to the storyteller. The stories help activate funding and serve as a data point
for measuring impact. 

Survivor stories then become commodities fueling a storytelling industrial complex. Storytellers, if not provided proper mental health support in the process, can become collateral damage.

My motivation in writing this piece is to flip the script on how we view FGM survivors, prioritizing the storyteller over the story itself.

FGM survivors are more than the four boxes describing how the pieces of our anatomy were cut, pricked, carved, or gouged out. In this essay, I’ll break down the anatomy of an FGM survivor’s story into four parts: stories that break, stories that remake, stories that heal, and stories that reveal.

Type 1: Stories that break

I was sitting in the heart of Appalachia with a group of FGM survivors, meeting many for the first time. As they shared their traumas, I realized we all belonged in some way or another to the same unenviable club. A white Christian survivor from Kentucky - who I don’t think I would have ever met if we didn’t have FGM survivorship connecting us - told the contours of her story. 

There were so many parallels. We were both cut at seven. She was bribed with cake after her cut. I was bribed with a jumbo-sized Toblerone chocolate bar when mine was over. Absorbing her trauma overwhelmed me. And I imagine when I shared my story, others in the circle may also have been silently unraveling. We didn’t have a clinician or mental health professional in a facilitation role and that absence was felt. The first night, I was sharing a room with six other survivors and tried hard to keep the sounds of my own tears muffled. By the last day, I reached breaking point. Before leaving for the airport, my stomach contracted and I convulsively vomited. I felt like I was purging not only my pain, but the pain of the others I’d absorbed that week. We all dutifully produced our stories into 90 second social media friendly soundbites with narration and photos. But at what cost?

Type 2: Stories that remake

On February 6, 2016, the Guardian published my story as a survivor. The second it was released, I was remade. My identity transformed from nondescript, relatively invisible mid-level Foreign Service Officer to FGM survivor under a public microscope. That same day, then-U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Samantha Power tweeted my story with the introduction: “I was seven years old” before linking to the article. The tweet symbolized a moment for me where my personal and professional worlds collided. Since then, they have been forever intertwined. 

Even though I spent ten years of my career as a diplomat focused on other issues -- I lived in Cairo during the early days of the Arab Spring in 2011 and served in Baghdad and Erbil when the Syrian revolution turned from an uprising to civil war -- all of those past experiences that began to make mefeel erased. When I spoke on panels, my identity would be reduced to “survivor.” Like other survivors, I have worked hard to rewrite the script on how others see me.

I reinsert pieces of my other identities when speaking to underscore to the broader public that while yes, I am a survivor of childhood trauma and while my FGM story may have remade a part of my identity, it doesn’t define me.

Type 3: Stories that heal

With the guidance of a mental health expert, I have spent the last few months doing a deep dive into my FGM survivor story. I have told and retold my story over dozens of times in public venues. My goal is to break the culture of silence and inspire action. At this point, the telling of my story has almost become mechanized, as though I am reciting a verse from the Quran I memorized as a kid. I would always start with: “I was sitting an anthropology class when a fellow student described her research project on Female Genital Mutilation. And that’s when I had the memory jolt. A memory I had suppressed since childhood came flooding to the foreground.” I go into the details of what happened in granular detail -- the color of the floor, the feelings of confusion and betrayal in the hazy aftermath. And then I go on to talk about the afternoon I confronted my mother about the summer she and my father shipped my brother and off to India to stay with my aunt. The summer it happened. I later found out my aunt cut me without my parents’ consent. In my years of telling and retelling this story, I would have moments I felt nothing, moments I would break down, and moments of relief. It was a mixed bag, often contradictory emotions happening all at once. 

When I began to take apart the story, I discovered the core moment where I felt most gutted. It wasn’t the cut itself. It was the aftermath. I remember sitting in a corner alone, feeling confused and ashamed. When I looked at my aunt on the other side of the room, she was whispering to my cousin and they both pointed and laughed at me. Unearthing the moment of shame - the laughter - has haunted me since childhood. The piece that was carved out of me is called “haram ki boti” which translates into sinful flesh. Over time, the physical scar healed. But for many FGM survivors, the psychological wounds remain 

Type 4: Stories that reveal

Last year, I decided to take a sabbatical from the Foreign Service. I was burning out on both ends -- I had just completed a really tough assignment in Pakistan and was also doing anti-FGM
advocacy in my personal capacity. When I came home, an acquaintance from graduate school approached me to capture my story on film. As part of the process, she would send a camera
crew to shadow me. Sometimes while giving speeches, other times filming mundane interactions with friends and family. On a visit to my home in Texas, I’ll never forget the moment where my mom told me her story of survival. As part of the film, we went on a roadtrip to Austin to visit the university where I first had the memory jolt. My mom is patiently waiting for the cameraman to set up his tripod.  My father is standing next to her. 

In the end, we eventually had the conversation I never had the courage to have with either of my parents face to face. Looking them both in the eye, retelling my story with a camera as witness, we discussed how FGM ripped our family apart (specifically my dad’s relationship with his sister). For the first time, I heard my mom talking about her own experience and the feeling of betrayal when she discovered my aunt cut me without her consent. When I later told her that FGM was actually indigenous to the U.S. and Europe and that it was a cure for hysteria (prescribed by doctors) up until the 19th century, my mother exclaimed “that’s crazy to me, this was a cure for hysteria. I’m going to educate other doctors to speak out.” And in that moment, my mother, a survivor who had never shared her story before, became an activist. 

My story, intertwined with her story, revealed a tightly woven fabric of resistance. With our voices, we were able to break the cycle of intergenerational structural violence. We were able to rewrite the stories of future generations of girls in our own family and hopefully one day, the world.

 


 “Dreams”

by Neesa Sunar (@neesasunar), Queens, USA

This is a woman breaking free from her mundane reality, devoid of color. She dreams in a colorful, "nonsensical" way that people in her life would not understand. She could be considered insane, yet her dreams are more vivid and imaginative than actual life. This is frequently how schizophrenia occurs to me, more engaging and exciting than real life.

Neesa Sunar (@neesasunar)

< United against the violence, by Karina Ocampo 

Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women, by Rode Wanimbo >

Reason to join 4

Piensa en grande. Gracias a nuestro alcance internacional, podemos combinar el trabajo analítico con herramientas políticas y prácticas para la incidencia y la transformación, con el objeto de promover la causa de los movimientos feministas en todos los ámbitos.

2002: Discussions on the Financing for Development agenda begin

The Monterrey Conference on Financing for Development marked the beginning of discussions on the Financing for Development agenda.

  • The Monterrey Consensus was adopted at this first international conference on Financing for Development. It was the first United Nations hosted summit-level meeting to address key financial and related issues on global development.
  • The Conference and its preparatory process saw unprecedented cooperation between the United Nations and the World Bank (WB), the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Trade Organization (WTO) as part of efforts to promote greater coherence and consistency among the international monetary, trade and financial systems and institutions.
  • Monterrey also marked the first time that financing for development debates took place between governments, representatives of civil society and the business sector. These actors moved the discussion beyond a ‘technical’ focus, to look at how to mobilize and channel financial resources to fulfill the internationally agreed development goals of previous UN conferences and summits of the 1990s, including the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs).
  • The Women’s Caucus noted the historical significance of the conference stating that it had the potential to address structural challenges that continue to hamper development but also raised concern over the effects of increased militarisation and fundamentalism on women, despite the fact that the Monterrey Consensus assumed that the global economic and financial system worked for all.
  • Learn more about the six Monterrey themes and the conference follow up mechanisms: Gender Issues and Concerns in Financing for Development by Maria Floro, Nilufer Çagatay, John Willoughby and Korkut Ertürk (INSTRAW, 2004) 

A minha participação é confidencial?

É claro que sim. As suas respostas serão eliminadas no final do processamento e da análise dos dados, e só serão usadas para fins de investigação. Os dados NUNCA serão divulgados fora da AWID e serão processados apenas por colaboradores e consultores da AWID que trabalham no projeto WITM connosco. Damos prioridade à sua privacidade e ao seu anonimato. Consulte a nossa política de privacidade detalhada aqui.

Sainimili Naivalu

"He dado testimonio de la discriminación que vi en las calles, he sufrido burlas y abusos verbales ahí. También he hecho numerosas amistades y he conocido a mucha gente. Puede que haya peligros ahí fuera, pero soy una  sobreviviente y aquí es donde estaré por ahora." - Sainimili Naivalu

Sainimili Naivalu fue una feminista y activista por los derechos de las personas con discapacidades de la aldea de Dakuibeqa en la isla de Beqa, Fiji.

Exigió a las autoridades políticas y a otras partes interesadas que proporcionaran políticas y servicios favorables a la movilidad de las personas con discapacidad, como la construcción de rampas en pueblos y ciudades para aumentar su accesibilidad. Sin embargo, las barreras físicas no fueron las únicas que Sainimili se esforzó por cambiar. Por experiencia propia, sabía que era necesario que se produjeran cambios más complejos en las esferas sociales y económicas. Muchos de los retos a los que se enfrentan las personas con discapacidad tienen su origen en actitudes que llevan a la discriminación y al estigma.

Como sobreviviente y luchadora, Sainimili contribuyó a la creación conjunta de realidades feministas que fomentasen la inclusión y cambiasen las actitudes hacia las personas con discapacidad. Como afiliada a la Asociación de Lesiones de la Espina Dorsal de Fiji (SIA, por sus siglas en inglés) y a través del proyecto del Foro para Personas con Discapacidades del Pacífico “Pacífico Habilita”, Sainimili asistió a la formación de la Organización Internacional del Trabajo "Inicie su Negocio" en Suva, lo que le permitió transformar sus ideas en su propio negocio. Fue emprendedora en el puesto 7 del mercado de Suva, donde ofrecía servicios de manicura,  y también se encargaba del puesto del mercado de las mujeres de SIA, donde vendía artesanías, sulus y otros objetos. El plan de Sainimili era expandir su negocio y convertirse en una importante empleadora de personas con discapacidad.

Además de su activismo, también fue medallista y campeona juvenil de tenis de mesa.

Sainimili era única, con una personalidad vivaz. Siempre podías saber si Sainimili estaba en una habitación porque su risa y sus historias eran los primero que notabas. - Michelle Reddy

Sainimili falleció en 2019.

Snippet FEA Criminalization of sex workers (FR)

La plupart des États membres de l'Union européenne ont des lois et des pratiques qui pénalisent ou contrôlent de facon inacceptable le travail des travailleur·euses du sexe. La criminalisation des travailleur·euses du sexe et/ou de leurs client·e·s ne fait que contribuer à accroître la vulnérabilité des travailleur·euses du sexe, qui sont déjà confronté·es quotidiennement à la stigmatisation, à la discrimination et à l'exclusion de l'État et de la société, en particulier les femmes, les personnes trans, les migrant·e·s et/ou les travailleur·euses racialisés. En Espagne par exemple, le gouvernement essaie actuellement de faire passer une Loi pour l'Abolition de la Prostitution, ce qui entraînera plus de marginalisation et de violence. Venez entendre les histoires de travailleuses du sexe et d'organisatrices syndicales qui luttent pour décriminaliser le travail du sexe et promouvoir les droits et conditions de travail décentes pour les travailleur·euses du sexe.

Principles of Engagement

Welcome to Crear | Résister | Transform: a festival for feminist movements!

Principles of Engagement

AWID is committed to creating an online space that invites and challenges us all to operate from a place of courage, curiosity, generosity and shared responsibility.

We invite you to co-create spaces with us that are free of harassment and violence, where everyone is respected in their gender identity and expression, race, ability, class, religion, language, ethnicity, age, occupation, type of education, sexuality, body size, and physical appearance. Spaces where we recognize inequalities in our world and strive to transform them in our own interactions with each other.


We want to create a space where ...

  • we can all be present

This means that we are able to listen, understand and relate to each other. To feel close, in spite of it all being virtual.  For this, we will make interpretation available and open channels (like chat and other tools) for you to react and share. To hear each other better, we invite you to wear headphones during the conversation. If it is possible for you , we suggest  that you close your email and any other likely source of distraction while you are in the conversation. 

  • all forms of knowledge are valued

Let us celebrate the multiple ways in which knowledge shows up in our lives. We invite you to approach the conversation with curiosity and openness to learn from others, allowing ourselves to unlearn and relearn through the exchange, as a way to start collectively building knowledge.  

  • all of us feel welcome

We are committed to holistically approaching accessibility by being mindful of different physical, language, mental and safety needs. We want a space that is welcoming of folks from various  backgrounds, beliefs, abilities and experiences. We will be proactive but we also ask that you communicate your needs with us, and we will do our best within our capacity to address these needs.

  • all of us feel safe and respected:

We all commit individually and collectively to respect each other’s privacy and to seek people’s consent before sharing any images or content generated during the conversation that involves them.


Creating a safer, respectful and enjoyable environment for the conversations, is everybody's responsibility.


Reporting

If you notice that someone is behaving in a discriminatory or offensive manner, please contact the reference person who will be indicated at the beginning of the session.

Any participants that express oppressive language or images, will be removed from the call and will not be readmitted. We will not engage with them in any way.

Our values - Human Rights

Droits humains

nous croyons en une application complète du principe des droits, y compris ceux établis dans les lois internationales, et affirmons la conviction que tous les droits humains sont indissociables, interdépendants et indivisibles. Nous nous engageons à œuvrer pour l'éradication de toutes les discriminations fondées sur le genre, la sexualité, la religion, l'âge, les capacités, l'ethnicité, la race, la nationalité, la classe sociale ou d'autres facteurs.

2009: la ONU celebra una Conferencia sobre el impacto de la crisis económica

Conferencia de la ONU sobre la crisis financiera y económica mundial y sus efectos sobre el desarrollo

  • Esta conferencia de 2009 fue un producto de la Conferencia de Doha realizada en 2008. La Declaración de Doha le había encargado a la ONU que el Presidente de su Asamblea General organizara una conferencia sobre la crisis financiera y económica mundial y su impacto sobre el desarrollo.
  • En esta conferencia los grupos de mujeres, a través del WWG, destacaron el impacto de la crisis financiera mundial sobre los grupos en situación de vulnerabilidad. En su declaración ante los Estados Miembros, el WWG les propuso acciones que consideraba necesarias para remediar los efectos de la crisis sobre las mujeres. También observó que otros grupos sociales afectados por la crisis son clave para una respuesta que esté en consonancia con los estándares y compromisos internacionales en materia de igualdad de género, derechos de las mujeres, derechos humanos y empoderamiento.

ما هو عدد الردود الذي ترغبون بجمعها؟

نهدف للوصول الى 2000 رد، وهذا تقريباً ضعف الردود التي جمعناها من استطلاع "أين المال" الأخير عام 2021.

Sylvia Rivera

Sylvia Rivera était une militante pour les droits civiques, travestie et travailleuse du sexe.

Connue comme la drag queen de couleur de New York, Sylvia était une infatigable et féroce défenseure des marginalisé·e·s et exclu·e·s au début des années 1970, alors que le mouvement pour les « droits des gays » prenait de l’ampleur aux États-Unis.

Dans un discours bien connu prononcé pour Chistopher Street Day en 1973, Sylvia s’est exclamée, parmi une foule de membres de la communauté LGBT : 

« Vous me dites tous d’aller me cacher, la queue entre les jambes.
Je ne supporterai plus ces conneries.
On m’a battue.
On m’a cassé le nez.
On m’a jetée en prison.
J’ai perdu mon travail.
J’ai perdu mon appartement.
Tout ça pour la libération gay, et vous me traitez de la sorte?
C’est quoi votre putain de problème à tous?
Réfléchissez à ça! » 

En 1969, à l’âge de 17 ans, Sylvia a participé aux célèbres émeutes de Stonewall en jetant, paraît-il, le deuxième cocktail molotov en signe de protestation contre la descente de la police dans le bar gay de Manhattan. Elle a continué à être une figure centrale des soulèvements qui ont suivi, organisant des rassemblements et ripostant aux brutalités policières.

En 1970, Sylvia a collaboré avec Marsha P. Johnson à la création de Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (S.T.A.R.), collectif et organisation politique qui mettait sur pied des projets de soutien mutuel pour les personnes trans vivant dans la rue, celles et ceux aux prises avec la toxicomanie ou en détention, et spécialement pour les personnes trans de couleur et celles et ceux vivant dans la pauvreté. 

Refusant les étiquettes, Sylvia a incité les personnes du mouvement de libération gay à penser différemment, et ce, tout au long de sa vie. Elle a déclaré : 

« J’ai quitté ma maison en 1961, à l’âge de 10 ans. Je me suis démenée sur la 42e rue. Le début des années 1960 n’était pas génial pour les drag queens, les garçons efféminés ou les garçons qui se maquillaient comme on le faisait. À l’époque, on se faisait battre par la police, par tout le monde. Je n’ai pas vraiment fait mon coming out en tant que drag queen avant la fin des années 1960. C’était vraiment la débandade lorsque des drag queens se faisaient arrêter. Je me rappelle la première fois où je me suis fait arrêter, je n’étais même pas habillée entièrement en drag. Je marchais dans la rue et les flics m’ont tout simplement attrapée. Les gens maintenant prétendent que je suis une lesbienne, parce que je suis avec Julia, ce à quoi je leur je réponds : « Non, je suis juste moi. Je ne suis pas une lesbienne. » J’en ai marre d’être étiquetée. Je ne suis même pas en faveur de l’étiquette de transgenre. J’en ai marre de vivre avec des étiquettes. Je veux juste être qui je suis. Je suis Sylvia Rivera »

Par son activisme et son courage, Sylvia Rivera a présenté un miroir où se reflétait tout ce qui n’allait pas dans la société, mais aussi la possibilité d’une transformation. Sylvia est née en 1951 et décédée en 2002.

Snippet FEA Union Otras Photo 4 (EN)

Photo of a group of people at night demonstrating.

Upasana Agarwal

Forgotten Song
“Forgotten Song” [«Canción Olvidada»]
Ode to the Moon
“Ode to the Moon” [Oda a la Luna»]
Vapour and Fire
“Vapour and Fire” [«Vapor y Fuego»]

Sobre Upasana Agarwal

Upasana Agarwal
Upasana es unx ilustradorx y artista no binarie de Calcuta, India. Su obra explora narrativas identitarias y personales, que empean restos o evidencias visuales de los contextos con los que trabaja. Le atraen especialmente los diseños en patrones que, para ellx, comunican verdades complejas sobre el pasado, el presente y el futuro. Cuando Upasana no está ilustrando, organiza y dirige un centro de arte comunitario queer y trans de la ciudad.

Membership why page - Angelina Mootoo quote

"Joining AWID, I hope I can help in the mobilization of the feminist movement. Not just for the privileged women, but for ALL women and feminist activists."

- Angelina Mootoo, Intersectional and Caribbean Feminist, Guyana/USA

Janvier 2015: 1ère session de rédaction du document final de la 3ème Conférence sur le FdD

La première session de rédaction du document final de la troisième Conférence sur le financement du développement

  • À partir de janvier 2015, les sessions de rédaction du document final se sont succédé au siège de l’ONU à New York.
  • Avant la première de ces sessions, les co-facilitateurs du processus préparatoire de la Conférence d’Addis Abeba ont présenté un document récapitulatif (en anglais) en vue de la rédaction de la dite « version zéro » du document final. Ce document avait vocation à servir de base aux négociations intergouvernementales relatives au contenu du document final.
  • Pendant les sessions, des organisations de défense des droits des femmes ont mis l’accent sur la nécessité, au cours des processus relatifs à l’après-2015, d’aborder séparément le FdD et les modalités de mise en œuvre. À leurs yeux, le FdD offre une occasion unique aux États de s’attaquer aux causes structurelles des inégalités.