
Jelena Santic

Young feminist activists play a critical role in women’s rights organizations and movements worldwide by bringing up new issues that feminists face today. Their strength, creativity and adaptability are vital to the sustainability of feminist organizing.
At the same time, they face specific impediments to their activism such as limited access to funding and support, lack of capacity-building opportunities, and a significant increase of attacks on young women human rights defenders. This creates a lack of visibility that makes more difficult their inclusion and effective participation within women’s rights movements.
AWID’s young feminist activism program was created to make sure the voices of young women are heard and reflected in feminist discourse. We want to ensure that young feminists have better access to funding, capacity-building opportunities and international processes. In addition to supporting young feminists directly, we are also working with women’s rights activists of all ages on practical models and strategies for effective multigenerational organizing.
We want young feminist activists to play a role in decision-making affecting their rights by:
Fostering community and sharing information through the Young Feminist Wire. Recognizing the importance of online media for the work of young feminists, our team launched the Young Feminist Wire in May 2010 to share information, build capacity through online webinars and e-discussions, and encourage community building.
Researching and building knowledge on young feminist activism, to increase the visibility and impact of young feminist activism within and across women’s rights movements and other key actors such as donors.
Promoting more effective multigenerational organizing, exploring better ways to work together.
Supporting young feminists to engage in global development processes such as those within the United Nations
Collaboration across all of AWID’s priority areas, including the Forum, to ensure young feminists’ key contributions, perspectives, needs and activism are reflected in debates, policies and programs affecting them.
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.
«Yo no planeaba ser una cantante, el canto planeó estar en mí.» - Dorothy Masuka (entrevista de Mail & Guardian)
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.
Entrevista a Dorothy Masuka de Mail & Guardian (en inglés)
Escucha su música:
As you plan the activity you would like to do at the Forum, please also consider how you will fund your participation. Typical Costs include: accommodation, travel, visa, forum registration fees, etc.
It is important to note that this Forum will have many ‘open spaces’ and moments for movements to learn and exchange, but fewer formal sessions. (See “Ways to describe the Forum in your fundraising” below for language to use in your outreach.)
Reach out to your current donors first : Your best option is always a current funder that you have.
Make sure to do it in advance : We recommend contacting them by early 2020 at the latest. Many funders who support feminist organizations have some budget allocated for Forum travel. Others may be able to include it in renewal grants or through other travel funds.
If your group has funders, tell them that you want to attend the AWID Forum to learn, experience, exchange and network- even if your activity does not get selected for the final program. In order to be able to support your participation, your donors will need to know about it well in advance so tell them right away! (they are already deciding which funds they will distribute in 2020).
If you do not currently have donor support or are not able to secure grants for Forum travel, consider reaching out to new donors.
Deadlines and requirements vary by funder, and a grant review process can take many months. If you’re considering applying for new grants, do so as soon as possible.
Feminist movements have long gotten creative with funding our own activism. Here are some ideas that we have gathered to inspire alternative ways of fundraising:
For more inspiration, see AWID’s ongoing series on autonomous resourcing, including specific ideas for conference raising participation funds.
AWID strives to make the Forum a truly global gathering with participation from diverse movements, regions and generations. To this end, AWID mobilizes resources for a limited Access Fund (AF) to assist Forum participants with the costs of attending the Forum.
AWID’s Access Fund will provide support to a limited number of Forum participants and session/activity facilitators. You can indicate in your application if you would like to apply to the AWID Access Fund. This is not guaranteed, and we strongly encourage you to seek alternative funding for your participation and travel to the Forum.
Even if you apply for the AWID Access Fund, we encourage you to continue to explore other options to fund your participation in the Forum. Access Fund decisions will be confirmed by the end of June 2020. Please remember that these resources are very limited, and we will be unable to support all applicants.
As you reach out to funders or your own networks, here is some sample messaging that may be helpful. Feel free to adapt it in whatever way is useful for you!
The AWID Forum is a co-created feminist movement space that energizes participants in their own activism, and strengthens connections with others across multiple rights and justice movements. Participants get to draw from wells of hope, energy and radical imagination, as well as deepen shared analysis, learning, and build cross-movement solidarity to develop more integrated agendas and advance joint strategies.
Our organization is seeking funds to attend the Forum in order to connect with other activists and movements from around the world, strengthen our strategies, and share our work. We are inspired by past participants, who have described the power of this global feminist gathering:
“Over four days … voices weaved together into a global perspective on the state of gender equality. And when I say global, I mean simultaneous translation into seven languages kind of global ....”
“It was reminding us that we are not alone. The Forum provided a means of translating collectivity into our movements. Whether across ideologies, identities or borders, our strength is in our vision and our support of one another.”
It is important to note that this Forum will have many ‘open spaces’ and moments for movements to learn and exchange, but fewer formal sessions. While many attendees will not be presenting in formal sessions, there will be invaluable space to learn, strategize, and experience feminist movements’ collective power in action.
When calculating your costs and how much you need to raise, it is important to factor in costs that may come up. Here’s an example of key items to consider:
The AWID Forum will now take place 11-14 January 2021 in Taipei .
It is more than a four-day convening. It is one more stop on a movement strengthening journey around Feminist Realities that has already begun and will continue well beyond the Forum dates.
Al unirte a AWID, te sumas a un proceso organizativo feminista mundial, un poder colectivo surgido del trabajo entre movimientos y basado en la solidaridad.
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.
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
Sobre la base de una investigación documental inicial y de consultas con aliadxs (que nos llevaron a eliminar muchas otras opciones de la región), organizamos una serie de visitas exhaustivas a Nepal, Malasia, Sri Lanka, Tailandia, Indonesia y, más tarde, Taiwán.
Cada visita incluyó, no solo la evaluación de la infraestructura logística, sino también encuentros con grupos y activistas feministas locales para entender mejor el contexto y conocer su percepción de las oportunidades y los riesgos potenciales de organizar un Foro de AWID en sus contextos.
Estos movimientos expresaron, en varias ocasiones, sentimientos encontrados respecto de las oportunidades y los riesgos que podría acarrearles la visibilidad de un evento como el Foro. En una de las visitas, durante los primeros treinta minutos de la reunión, escuchamos a lxs activistas presentes decir, en forma unánime, que un Foro de AWID sufriría una enorme reacción, que los derechos LGBTQ son un asunto particularmente candente, y que los grupos fundamentalistas aparecerían con toda su fuerza a interrumpir el evento.
Cuando respondimos, «De acuerdo, entonces ustedes no creen que sea una buena idea», nuevamente la respuesta unánime fue «Por supuesto que es una buena idea, ¡queremos cambiar la narrativa!». En algunos de estos lugares nos resultó difícil oír y ver que muchxs activistas feministas querían aprovechar la oportunidad de un evento grande y visible, y que estaban preparadxs a enfrentar los riesgos locales; pero nuestras consideraciones, como anfitrionxs de casi dos mil personas de todo el mundo, nos imponen un cálculo distinto del riesgo y la factibilidad.
También tuvimos que analizar qué significa organizar un foro feminista que a sea coherente con los principios de inclusión, reciprocidad y autodeterminación, en aquellos casos en que la política y la práctica de Estado son, en general, contrarias a estos principios (aunque lxs funcionarixs de los ministerios de turismo hayan trabajado arduamente para atenuar estas características).
En muchos de estos lugares, monitorear el contexto nos resultó un ejercicio pendular: de un momento abierto y seguro para los debates feministas podíamos pasar a otro de brutal represión y xenofobia, capaz de sacrificar las prioridades feministas como piezas de negociación política para tranquilizar a las fuerzas antiderechos del ala derechista.
Nuestras dificultades en la región Asia-Pacífico nos llevaron a preguntarnos si no sería más fácil mover el Foro a una región distinta. Sin embargo, hoy en día no podríamos organizar un Foro de AWID en Estambul como lo hicimos en 2012, ni podríamos hacerlo en Brasil como lo hicimos en 2016.
Al organizar el Foro de AWID, estamos tratando de construir y sostener, de la mejor manera posible, un espacio para las diversas expresiones de solidaridad, indignación, esperanza e inspiración que son el núcleo de los movimientos feministas.
En este momento, creemos que Taipéi es la sede, dentro de la región Asia-Pacífico, que mejor nos permitirá construir ese espacio seguro y rebelde para nuestra comunidad feminista global.
De hecho, en el mundo contemporáneo no existe una ubicación ideal para un Foro centrado en las Realidades Feministas. Donde sea que vayamos, ¡debemos construir ese espacio juntxs!
Lutter contre vents et marées : le récit de la victoire sans précédent du Réseau Solidarité.
En janvier 2022, le Réseau Solidarité a organisé une grève avec 400 travailleur·euses. Sa principale demande ? L’augmentation des salaires. La grève a été déclenchée après des mois de discussions sans résultats avec le ministère géorgien des Affaires Sociales.
Après avoir manifesté, négocié, parlé à la presse, résisté aux représailles et enduré le froid de l’hiver géorgien pendant des semaines, les travailleur·euses ont obtenu des concessions sans précédent de la part du gouvernement: augmentation des salaires, congés payés de maternité, couverture des frais de transport, arrêt des licenciement, indemnisation des jours de grève, et plus.
La grève a non seulement abouti à des gains matériels, mais a également permis aux travailleur·euses de se sentir uni·e·s et habilité·e·s à se défendre et à lutter pour des conditions de travail décentes, dans le présent et à l'avenir. Iels sont devenu·es une source d'inspiration pour tous·tes les travailleur·euses du pays.
Pour en savoir plus sur leur victoire, cliquez ici.
Chaque programme comporte plusieurs volets, y compris le développement et la diffusion de connaissances, la recherche-action, les plaidoyers, l’établissement d’alliances et l’organisation de dialogues stratégiques.
Notre Rapport Annuel 2011 vous proposent un sommaire des principales réalisations pendant l'année, dans le cadre de chacune des programmes de l’AWID.
Etendez vos frontières. Les membres de l'AWID représentent de plus en plus une section transversale dynamique et variée de féministes travaillant, entre autres, sur les questions foncières, les droits des travailleures, les droits sexuels et l'autonomie corporelle. En devenant membre, vous pouvez relier vos luttes entre mouvements.
Да, мы хотим получить ваш ответ, независимо от того, сколько раз (один, два или три) вы получали финансирование в период между 2021 и 2023 годами.
Sara Hegazy, a bold Egyptian LGBTQI+ rights activist, lived in a society where the members of her community, their bodies and lives often face lethal prejudice. The roots of Sara’s resistance were in the deconstruction of a dominant, oppressive and patriarchal system, and its anti-rights actors.
"[In Egypt], every person who is not male, Muslim, Sunni, straight, and a supporter of the system, is rejected, repressed, stigmatized, arrested, exiled, or killed. This matter is related to the patriarchal system as a whole, since the state cannot practice its repression against citizens without a pre-existing oppression since childhood." - Sara Hegazy wrote on March 6, 2020
The suppression of Sara’s voice by the Egyptian government reached its violent peak in 2017, when she was arrested for raising a rainbow flag at the Mashrou’ Leila (Lebanese band whose lead vocalist is openly gay) concert in Cairo. What followed were charges of joining an illegal group along with “promoting sexual deviancy and debauchery”.
"It was an act of support and solidarity — not only with the [Mashrou' Leila] vocalist but for everyone who is oppressed...We were proud to hold the flag. We wouldn't have imagined the reaction of society and the Egyptian state. For them, I was a criminal — someone who was seeking to destroy the moral structure of society." - Sara Hegazy
Sara was jailed for three months, where she was tortured and sexually assaulted. In January 2018, after being released on bail, she sought asylum in Canada where she was safe but imprisoned by the memories of the abuse and violence her body and soul had gone through.
"I left this experience after three months with a very intense, serious case of PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder]. Prison killed me. It destroyed me." - Sara Hegazy told NPR
Sara took her own life on 14 June 2020, leaving a handwritten note in Arabic:
“To my siblings – I tried to find redemption and failed, forgive me.”
“To my friends – the experience [journey] was harsh and I am too weak to resist it, forgive me.
“To the world – you were cruel to a great extent, but I forgive.”
Her legacy and courage will be carried forward by those who love her and believe in what she fought for.
“To Sarah: Rest, just rest, spared from this relentless violence, this state-powered lethal patriarchy. In rage, in grief, in exhaustion, we resist.” - Rasha Younes, an LGBT rights researcher at Human Rights Watch. Read the complete text
Mashrou’ Leila’s lead vocalist sings tribute to Sara Hegazy
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.
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?
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.
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
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.
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.
< United against the violence, by Karina Ocampo
Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women, by Rode Wanimbo >
AWID is pleased to share our 2016 Annual Report.
2016 was an incredible year for AWID, we convened the 13th International AWID Forum in Bahia, Brazil, a space for strategizing and alliance building with feminists and other justice movements, which was attended by over 1800 participants from 120 countries and territories across the globe.
We know that women’s rights and feminist movements are key actors in creating sustainable transformative change. Within our movements, organizing, resisting and responding to the challenging context is sharpening, and in our increasingly connected world, the potential for collective action across diverse movements has dramatically grown.
This is the crucial work that AWID seeks to amplify and support every day.
A highlight of 2016 was our ground-breaking 13th International Forum with the theme: “Feminist Futures: Building Collective Power for Rights and Justice”, where we harnessed the thinking and energy of nearly 500 partners, presenters, panelists, moderators, artivists, writers, facilitators, IT innovators, and performers, many of them leaders in their movements. We also supported the convening of the first and historical Black Feminisms Forum (BFF) organised by a working group of Black Feminists from across the world.
AWID, in partnership with other feminist and women’s rights organisations, engaged in advocacy and dialogue to explore better solutions for women’s rights agendas including our work with the Count Me In! consortium .
The experiences of women with disabilities, Black and Afro-descendant women, sex workers, Indigenous women, trans and intersex people, domestic workers and how their lives are impacted by multiple oppressions and violence were placed front and center of the Forum process.
We also launched the 2016 WHRD Tribute to commemorate defenders who are no longer with us, during the 16 Days of activism, and thanks to the contributions from our members,
We drove attention to groups and issues that do not usually receive adequate mainstream media coverage through our partnership with The Guardian and Mama Cash.