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!
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by Marta Plaza Fernández, Madrid, Spain (@gacela1980)
The feminist reality that I want to share is about weaving networks in which we uphold one another. Networks which come together in different ways, which emerge from our shared vulnerability, and which make all of us stronger.
The streets of Chamberí, my neighbourhood in Madrid, became much more of a home following the gatherings in the plazas organized by the citizens movement that originated in a rally on May 15, 2011. I think about how, during those years, we met each other and were able to associate faces, voices, smiles with so many neighbours who previously were only silhouettes without names or pasts, and who we passed by without seeing or hearing each other. I think about how we’ve become involved and dedicated; how we’ve woven a palpable, tangible community; how we’ve been advancing hand in hand towards building a new more inhabitable world, which we want and that we urgently need to create.
A group of activists and utopian neighbours, (in the best sense of the word utopian) – that moves us to action to do something real – that group for me was practically the first that reacted differently when I shared a part of my history and identity with them. With these women I shared my psychiatric diagnosis, my multiple hospital stays, the number of daily pills that accompanied me, my disability certificate, my difficulty in preserving that vital link that periodically disintegrates in my hands.
These neighbours, friends, comrades, links, loves –did not only not distance themselves from me once they got to know someone who many others had labelled as problematic, manipulator, egotistical – but became my principal network of affection and mutual support. They decided to navigate with me when the sea became agitated with storms. These people have given a different meaning to my days.
Building our feminist reality also encompasses carrying the “I believe you, sister” that we use when a friend has suffered a macho attack to the violence experienced by psychiatrized women at the hands of the very psychiatric system and institutions that are supposed to help us (and instead are often the new abuser who traumatizes and hurts us all over again). And this reality must include respect for our decisions, without taking away our agency and capacity to direct our own steps to one space or another; to listen to our narratives, desires, needs…without trying to impose others that are alien to us. It means not delegitimizing our discourse, not alluding to the label of our diagnosis, nor our madness.
With these transformation, each stay in the psychiatric institute did erase the ties that we had been able to build, but instead this network stayed by my side, its members took turns so that each day there would be no lull in calls, in visits, so that I could feel them as close as one can feel another person separated by locked doors (but unfortunately open for abuse) within the confines of the psychiatric ward. Through the warmth and kindness from my people I could rebuild that vital link that had once again been broken.
The even bigger leap happened when I was already aware of the numerous violent acts and abuse (where among other assaults, I spent days strapped to a bed, relieving myself where I lay), I decided that I would not go back to being interned.
This network of care, these women neighbours-friends-loves-comrades, they respected my refusal to return to the hospital and supported me through each crisis I’ve been through since then. Without being interned, without violence.
They took turns accompanying me when my link to life was so broken that I felt such a huge risk which I couldn’t handle on my own. They organized WhatsApp group check-ins. They coordinated care and responsibilities so that no one would feel overwhelmed - because when an individual feels overloaded, they make decisions based on fear and the need for control instead of prioritizing accompaniment and care.
That first crisis that we were able to surmount together in this way – without being admitted to the psychiatric institute, represented a dramatic change in my life. There were months when my life was at risk, of intense suffering and of so much fear for my people and for me. But we overcame it together, and all that I thought was that if we could get over that crisis, then we could also find ways to face all the difficulties and crises that may come.
These feminist realities that we’re building day by day keep expanding, growing and taking different forms. We’re learning together, we’re growing together. Distancing ourselves from a welfare mentality, one of the first lessons was that, in reality, there wouldn’t be anyone receiving care (because of a psychiatric label) or anyone helping, from the other side of the sanity/insanity line. We learnt – we’re learning – to move to a different key – that of mutual support, of providing care and being cared for, of caring for each other.
We’ve also explored the limits of self care and the strength of collectivizing care and redistributing it so it’s not a burden that paralyzes us; we learnt – and we keep learning today – about joy and enjoying care that is chosen.
Another recent learning is about how difficult it was to start integrating money as another component of mutual support that we all give and receive. It was hard for us to realize how internalized capitalism kept on reverberating in our relationship with money, and that even though no one expected any payment for the containers of lentils we cooked amongst us when eating and cooking were difficult tasks, our expectation regarding money was different. Phrases like “how much you have is how much you’re worth” become stuck inside of us without critically analyzing them. It’s easy to keep thinking that the money each one has is related to the effort made to earn it, and not due to other social conditioning distant from personal merit. In fact, within this well-established mutual support network – redistributing money based on needs without questioning – was still a remote reality for our day to day. That’s why this is something that we’ve recently started to work on and think through as a group.
We want to get closer to that anti-capitalist world where mutual support is the way that we have chosen to be in the world; and that entails deconstructing our personal and collective relationship with money and internalized capitalism.
In these feminist realities we also know that learning never stops, and that the road continues to be shaped as we travel upon it. There is still much to do to keep caring for ourselves, to keep expanding perspectives and to make ourselves more aware of the persistent power imbalances, of privileges that we hold and continue to exercise, without realizing the violence that they reproduce.
Though we’ve already travelled so far, we still have a long way to go to get closer to that new world that we hold in our hearts (and for some within our crazy little heads too). Racism, classism, adult-centrism, fat-phobia, and machismo that persists among our partners.
Among the pending lessons, we’ve needed for a long time already to build a liveable future in which feminism is really intersectional and in which we all have space, in which the realities and oppressions of other sisters are just as important as our own. We also need to move forward horizontally when we build collectively – getting rid of egos, of protagonisms, to live together and deal with the need for recognition in a different way. And to also keep making strides grounded in the awareness that the personal is always, always political.
How we relate to and link with each other cannot be relegated to the private domain, nor kept silent: other loves are possible, other connections and other families are necessary, and we are also inventing them as we go.
This new world which we want to create, and that we need to believe in – is this kind world – in which we can love, and feel pride in ourselves – and in which all worlds will fit. We’ll keep at it.
Looking at activists and feminists as healers and nourishers of the world, in the midst of battling growing right wing presence, white supremacy and climate change. This piece highlights how our feminist reality puts kindness, solidarity, and empathy into action by showing up and challenging the status quo to liberate us all.
María era reconocida internacionalmente por su extraordinario liderazgo dentro de la comunidad de personas con discapacidad.
Representó al Consorcio Internacional sobre Discapacidad y Desarrollo (IDDC por su sigla en inglés) durante la negociación de la Convención sobre los Derechos de las Personas con Discapacidad (2001-2006). Su trabajo estaba dedicado a la implementación del objetivo de la Convención: el goce pleno de los derechos humanos universales por, para y con las personas con discapacidades, en pos de un mundo inclusivo, accesible y sostenible.
En sus propias palabras, su liderazgo consistía en «servir a la comunidad de personas con discapacidad, comenzando por aquellas pequeñas tareas que otrxs pueden no querer realizar».
Falleció el 27 de octubre de 2017 en su ciudad natal de Rosario, Argentina.
Nous vous présentons Sabrina Sanchez, incroyable femme trans, migrante, travailleuse du sexe, organisatrice, transféministe et l'une des fondatrices du syndicat OTRAS.
Originaire de Mexico, elle a émigré en Espagne il y a 17 ans après avoir obtenu son diplôme en communication et a commencé à travailler comme travailleuse du sexe.
Il ne fallut pas longtemps avant qu'elle ne s'implique dans l'activisme trans et l'activisme des travailleur·euses du sexe à Barcelone. Après avoir rejoint l'Association des Professionnel·les du Sexe (Asociación de Profesionales del Sexo, Aprosex), elle a commencé à travailler dans son secrétariat et a fondé le syndicat espagnol des travailleur·euses du sexe OTRAS.
Cette œuvre est la collaboration photographique et illustrative réalisée par Siphumeze et Katia pendant le confinement. Elle se penche sur les récits de sexe et de plaisir des queers noirs, le bondage, le sexe protégé, les jouets, la santé mentale et le sexe et bien d'autres choses encore. Elle a été créée pour accompagner l'anthologie Touch.
Mental Health (Santé mentale)Sex and Spirtuality (Sexe et spiritualité)Orgasm (Orgasme)
À propos des artistes
Siphumeze Khundayi est une créatrice d'art, photographe et animatrice qui s'intéresse aux moyens créatifs de réunir le dialogue et la pratique artistique en relation avec l'identité queer africaine.
Elle est directrice créative de HOLAAfrica!, un collectif panafricaniste féministe en ligne.
Ses travaux de performance en solo et collaboratifs ont été présentés dans un certain nombre de festivals et d'espaces théâtraux tels que le festival Ricca Ricca au Japon.
Elle a mis en scène deux productions nominées aux Naledi Awards en 2017 et 2018. Elle a aussi mis en scène un spectacle qui a remporté un prix Standard Bank Ovation en 2020.
En tant que photographe, elle a participé à une exposition de groupe intitulée Flowers of my Soul (Fleurs de mon âme) en Italie, organisée par le Misfit Project. Elle a produit trois publications pour HOLAAfrica et a été publiée dans le deuxième volume, pour lequel elle a fourni la couverture: As You Like des Gerald Kraak Anthologies.
Katia Herrera est une artiste visuelle numérique de 21 ans originaire de la ville bruyante de Saint-Domingue, en République dominicaine. Bien que Herrera soit une introvertie autoproclamée, ses œuvres d'art sont remarquablement fortes dans un monde qui tente de faire taire les voix des personnes noires. Avec des titres comme Black Woman (Femme Noire), You Own the Moon (La Lune t’Appartient), Earth Goddess (Déesse de la Terre), Forever (Pour Toujours) et Universe Protector (Protecteur.rice de l’Univers), l'héritage de Herrera sera marqué par sa volonté passionnée de mettre en lumière l'endurance et la persévérance des Noir·e·s d'hier et d'aujourd'hui, afin de contrer le discours selon lequel la peau noire ne devrait être associée qu'à l'esclavage.
L'une de ses œuvres la plus belle et la plus vivante, Universe Protector, dépeint l'âme noire comme une entité divine pleine de force, de puissance et de grandeur. C’est dans sa jeunesse que son amour du graphisme a été stimulé grâce à l'art de ses parents et le Photoshop qu'ils avaient téléchargé sur leur ordinateur pour leur photographie professionnelle.
Asma était une militante pakistanaise des droits humains, une critique courageuse de l'ingérence de l'armée dans la politique et une défenseure acharnée de la primauté du droit.
Elle a été la présidente fondatrice de la Commission des droits de l'homme du Pakistan, un groupe indépendant ainsi qu’administratrice de l'International Crisis Group. Elle a remporté des prix internationaux et a été rapporteuse des Nations Unies sur les droits de l'homme et les exécutions extrajudiciaires.
« Grâce à sa vie, Asma a réécrit l'histoire que beaucoup d'entre nous ont racontée en tant que femmes. Asma a changé le monde. Elle l'a changé au Pakistan et elle l'a changé dans notre imaginaire. »
We transcend time and place, Hand cut found paper (2017)We will remember who we are and We will persist Cotton embroidered hand cut lamé on wool silk cloth (2018)We will return home, Silk embroidered hand cut lamé on cotton velveteen (2018)We will heal in the now, Hand cut silk, wool, lamé, cotton, direct digital print silk satin on linen (2018)
we are infinite
An exhibition by Nicole Barakat, embodying her reconnection with the diaspora of objects from her ancestral homelands in the South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA) region.
Barakat presents a collection of textile works as manifestations of her practice of engaging with displaced, and often stolen objects held within Western museum collections including the Louvre, British Museum and Nicholson Museum.
To by-pass the gatekeepers and breach the vitrines holding these ancestral objects, Barakat reclaims pre-colonial, non-linear, receptive forms of knowing that are often devalued and dismissed by colonial and patriarchal institutions - engaging with coffee cup divination, dream-work, intuitive listening and conversations with the objects themselves (source).
About Nicole Barakat
Nicole Barakat is a queer femme, SWANA artist born and living on Gadigal Country (so-called Sydney, Australia). She works with deep listening and intuitive processes with intentions to transform the conditions of everyday life. Her work engages unconventional approaches to art-making, creating intricate works that embody the love and patience that characterises traditional textile practices.
Her works include hand-stitched and hand-cut cloth and paper drawings, sculptural forms made with her own hair, cloth and plant materials as well as live work where she uses her voice as a material.
Nicole’s creative practice is rooted in re-membering and re-gathering her ancestral knowing, including coffee divination and more recently working with plants and flower essences for community care and healing.
At the time of her death, following a short but aggressive battle with cancer, Deborah was the Chief Communication and Engagement Officer at the Women’s Funding Network (WFN).
Deborah also worked for the Global Fund for Women from 2008 to 2017. Deborah was extremely loved and respected by board, staff, and partners of Global Fund for Women.
Kavita Ramdas, former CEO of the Global Fund for Women aptly noted that Deborah was “a small package exploding with warmth, generosity, intelligence, style, and a passionate commitment to fusing beauty with justice. She understood the power of story. The power of women’s voice. The power of lived experience. The power of rising from the ashes and telling others it was possible. And, still we rise.”
Musimbi Kanyoro, the present CEO of the Global Fund for Women, added, “We have lost a sister and her life illuminates values that unite and inspire us all. As we all come together to mourn Deborah’s passing, let us remember and celebrate her remarkable, bold, and passionate life.”
