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

Our neighbourhood, our network, our strength

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.

 


“Healing Together”

by Upasana Agarwal, Kolkata, India (@upasana_a)

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. 

Upasana Agarwal (@upasana_a)

 

Snippet FEA Wage Parity (ES)

Ilustración de dos un par de personas de piel blanca con anteojos, a la izquierda en el fondo hay un mando y a la derecha al frente hay una mujer. El fondo es turquesa.

PARIDAD SALARIAL

Reason to join 2

Encuentra y crea conexiones. AWID cuenta con más de 9000 afiliadxs, todxs dedicadxs a abordar cuestiones complementarias e interconectadas. En esta diversidad se apoya la sostenibilidad de los movimientos y actorxs feministas.

Могу ли я связаться с кем-либо, если у меня возникнут вопросы?

Если у вас есть какие-либо вопросы или сомнения, пожалуйста, свяжитесь с нами через форму здесь, указав «Опрос «Где деньги?» (WITM Survey) в качестве заголовка вашего сообщения. или напишите нам по адресу witm@awid.org

Fadila M.

Fadila M. était une activiste “tribale” Soulaliyate d’Azrou, dans la province marocaine d’Ifrane. Elle s'est battue contre une forme spécifique de discrimination à l'égard des femmes “tribales” liée à la propriété foncière.

Dans le cadre du Mouvement en faveur des droits fonciers des femmes Soulaliyates, elle a travaillé pour la révision de la législation-cadre relative à la gestion des biens communautaires, avec l'adoption en 2019 de trois projets de lois garantissant l'égalité des femmes et des hommes. 

Selon le droit coutumier en vigueur, les femmes n'avaient pas le droit de bénéficier de la terre, surtout celles qui étaient célibataires, veuves ou divorcées. Au Maroc, les droits à la terre collective se transmettaient traditionnellement entre les membres masculins de plus de 16 ans issus d’une même famille. Depuis 2007, Fadila M. faisait partie du mouvement des femmes, à savoir la première mobilisation populaire nationale de revendication de leurs droits fonciers. Parmi leurs victoires, citons le fait qu'en 2012, les femmes Soulaliyates ont pu, pour la première fois, s'inscrire sur les listes de bénéficiaires et disposer d'une indemnisation liée à la cession des terres. Le mouvement a également réussi à faire modifier le dahir de 1919 (décret du roi du Maroc) de façon à garantir aux femmes le droit à l'égalité.

Fadila M. s’est éteinte le 27 septembre 2018. Les circonstances de sa mort, survenue alors qu’elle participait à une marche de protestation sur la question des terres collectives, ne sont pas claires. Si les autorités déclarent que sa mort est accidentelle et qu'elle a fait un arrêt cardiaque sur le chemin de l'hôpital, la section locale de l'Association marocaine des droits de l'homme (AMDH), affirme quant à elle que Fadila a été étouffée par un membre des forces policières arborant un drapeau marocain. Sa famille a demandé qu’une enquête soit menée mais les résultats de l'autopsie n'ont pas été communiqués.

Apprenez-en davantage sur le Mouvement en faveur des droits fonciers des femmes Soulaliyates 


Veuillez noter: Nous n'avons pu trouver aucune photo de Fadima M. C'est pourquoi cette illustration (au lieu d'un portrait) représente ce pour quoi elle s'est battue et a travaillé : la terre et le droit d'y vivre et d'avoir accès à cette terre et ce qui y pousse.

Exposition Pleasure Garden

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
Mental Health (Santé mentale)
Sex and Spirtuality
Sex and Spirtuality (Sexe et spiritualité)
Orgasm
Orgasm (Orgasme)

À propos des artistes

Siphumeze Khundayi portrait

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 portrait

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.

Main image
opportunities.png
Body

Snippet FEA Map of Spain Union Otras (FR)

Fond moutarde avec une carte rose de l'Espagne et une épingle jaune de l'emplacement de Sindicato Otras ;

Solidarity: membership why page

Solidarité

nous prenons position en solidarité les un·e·s avec les autres ainsi qu’avec différentes luttes en défense de la justice et des libertés. Nous nous efforçons de mobiliser et renforcer l’action collective et de pratiquer des méthodes significatives de collaboration.

AWID Community Blurb

Join our online community!

The AWID Community is an online social networking platform specifically for AWID. It is a feminist space for connection, resistance and celebration. A space for critical feminist conversations, collective power and solidarity. It is also a space for post-event dialogues, navigating difficult political learnings and community care.

Join AWID membership to be part of the AWID Community today.

Dorothy Masuka

“I didn’t plan to be a singer, singing planned to be in me.” - Dorothy Masuka (interview with Mail & Guardian)

Dorothy Masuka, born 1935 in Bulawayo (then Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe), grew up in South Africa to become a well-known songwriter, composer, jazz singer and activist, a fervent advocate of the struggle against apartheid. Called “an architect of the discourse of popular African liberation music”, Dorothy often sang about politics in indigenous African languages and throughout her work she confronted the racist policies of the South African government.

One such song titled “Dr. Malan” (named after the pro-apartheid politician D.F. Malan) was banned. She went on to record “Lumumba” (1961), a song about the assassination of the anti-colonial leader Patrice Lumumba. Dorothy’s work and activism attracted the attention of the Special Branch of the South African police and she was forced into a political exile that would span over three decades. Throughout this time, she worked with pro-independence groups including the African National Congress. In 1992, as apartheid started to crumble and Nelson Mandela was released from prison, she returned to South Africa. 

Some of her other work includes the first song she recorded in 1953 entitled “Hamba Notsokolo”, a hit in the 1950s and a valued classic. She also wrote “El Yow Phata Phata”, a song that was adapted by Miriam Makeba, making “Pata, Pata” popular internationally.

Rooted in resistance, Dorothy’s music and activism were intertwined, leaving a magnificent and inspiring legacy. She was also widely known as “Auntie Dot”. 

On 23 February 2019 at the age of 83, Dorothy passed away in Johannesburg due to ill health. 


Watch Dorothy Masuka in an interview with Mail & Guardian

Listen to some of her music:

Hamba Nontsokolo
El Yow Phata Phata
 

Nicole Barakat

nicole barakat -verge exhibition april 2018
We transcend time and place, Hand cut found paper (2017)
nicole barakat -verge exhibition april 2018
We will remember who we are and We will persist Cotton embroidered hand cut lamé on wool silk cloth (2018)
nicole barakat -verge exhibition april 2018
​​We will return home, Silk embroidered hand cut lamé on cotton velveteen (2018)
verge march 18 - document photography
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 portrait
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. 

Snippet FEA Unio Otras Photo 2 (EN)

Photo of Sabrina Sanchez waving a flag and leading a demonstration. She is marching while wearing a lingerie set and heels. There are people with posters behind her;

Membership why page page - to join as a member block

To join as a member - step by step

  1. Read and endorse the AWID Values and Community Guidelines.
  2. Fill out your membership sign-up form and indicate your contribution to at least one type of action proposed.
  3. Check your mailbox for a confirmation of your membership.
  4. Fulfill your contribution commitment to the type(s) of action you chose in the sign-up form.

Snippet - Blog post Quote_FR

« Poursuivons notre dynamique de solidarité, d’espoir et d’imagination radicale. »

- Beijing+30 et la CSW : adopter une lecture féministe des multiples défis de notre époque

Lisez l’article ici

Esther Mwikali

El hogar de Esther Mwikali estaba en la aldea de Mithini, en el condado de Murang'a, Kenya. Esther fue una defensora del derecho a la tierra destacada y valorada que investigó los abusos contra okupas de tierras reclamadas por magnates. La investigación de la que participó Esther incluyó también violaciones del derecho a la tierra cometidas por personas con poder en Makuyu.

Luego de que Esther faltara a una de las reuniones de la aldea, un grupo de búsqueda  salió a rastrear a Esther. El 27 de agosto de 2019, dos días después de su desaparición, el cuerpo de Esther fue encontrado en una granja cerca de su casa, con signos de tortura. Esther había sido brutalmente asesinada.

"El trabajo de Esther por evitar el desalojo de lxs integrantes de las comunidades de las tierras reclamadas por magnates era conocido por todxs. Para lxs activistas locales no existía ninguna duda de que su asesinato estaba relacionado con las luchas en la zona por el acceso a la tierra; un trágico recordatorio de la alarmante frecuencia con que se llevan a cabo las ejecuciones extrajudiciales en Kenia."- Global Wittness Report, Julio 2020

"Asociamos la muerte de Mwikali con las luchas locales por el derecho a la tierra,  y exigimos al Gobierno que investigue el asunto sin demora." - James Mburu, portavoz de lxs okupas.

"Es necesario tomar medidas con respecto a las personas que presuntamente han amenazado a lxs ocupantes ilegales, incluida la familia de Mwikali". - Alice Karanja, Coalición Nacional de Defensorxs de Derechos Humanos

"El impacto de su trabajo y su tenacidad permanecerán vivos en Kenia durante décadas. El CJGEA consuela a las personas afligidas y pide justicia". - Comunicado de prensa del Centro para la Justicia y la Acción Gubernamental (CJGEA, por sus siglas en inglés), 13 de septiembre de 2019