sexual violence

Superwoman Network Empowers Vulnerable Women in Sudan

Mideast-Sudan-Elections.jpg

This article originally appeared on the Women & Girls Hub of News Deeply, and you can find the original here. For important news about issues that affect women and girls in the developing world, you can sign up to the Women & Girls Hub email list. By Hannah McNeish

Based in Khartoum, the Superwoman Network brings together five civil society organizations to provide support, legal aid and training to help women who were once the victims of domestic violence and FGM.

 

KHARTOUM, Sudan – Before Jamila joined the Superwoman Network in Sudan’s capital Khartoum, she felt powerless and alone in her struggle to cope with years of violence from the two closest men in her life.

“Anything he saw in front of him, he would use to beat me,” she says of the husband she left eight years ago.

But after escaping her husband, Jamila and her children suffered at the hands of her father who, unemployed due to sickness and supporting two new wives and more children, resented having to support them, too.

“When I argued with his children whilst ironing, he took the iron and burnt me with it,” says Jamila, pointing out the nicks and dark patches of scar tissue on her neck, arms and chest. “He has also burnt my sons. The eldest has marks all over his body from where [my father] would heat up a screwdriver and burn him with it.”

To help women like Jamila – women with nowhere left to turn – the Superwoman Network brings together five civil society organizations. The group offers support to vulnerable women in contact with the law, such as current and released prisoners, as well as single mothers and survivors of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV).

“We give them hope that life is still there,” says Amani Tabidi, executive director of one of the network’s members, the Babiker Badri Scientific Association for Women’s Studies (BBSAWS) at Ahfad University for Women in Omdurman. BBSAWS provides the women with skills training and basic literacy. It also offers “legal and psychological support to overcome stigma and economic empowerment,” says Tabidi, who is also a lecturer at Ahfad University and recruits peers to mentor the women.

“Most of the women are coming from very poor communities, so they don’t have someone to help them,” she says.

They also often see no way out. Last year, Rashida Manjoo, the U.N.’s Special Rapporteur on Violence Against Women at the time, visited Sudan and voiced her concern about the culture of “silence and denial” when it came to the subject of SGBV. When Jamila told people about her father’s abuse, “they would tell me, ‘At the end of the day, this is your dad and may God help him,’” she says.

Jamila and other SGBV victims who are trapped by violence have been able to use the Superwoman Network’s sessions on coping mechanisms to help deal with, and lessen, the abuse they suffer until they can get away from it. “The sessions changed the way I think,” says Jamila. “The situation at home is the same but I’m emotionally stronger.”

Now, when Jamila’s father loses his temper, she says she uses breathing and meditation techniques to stop herself from shouting back and escalating the situation, and to calm herself afterwards.

The Superwoman Network has also given Jamila cooking utensils and trained her on cookery and crafts to get her closer to her goal of freeing herself from her father’s support by setting up a baking business.

Since launching last year with funding from the United Nations Development Programme and the Finnish embassy in Egypt, the Superwoman Network has helped over 30 women. The network hopes to have helped 100 women by May 2017. It’s an ambitious target in a country where public support and advocacy of women’s rights is routinely stifled.

Fatima joined the network through an organization that helped her rebuild her life after female genital mutilation (FGM) nearly ruined it. The procedure made sex impossible, sometimes causing her to bleed, which traumatized both her and her husband. Through one of the other Superwoman partners, SEEMA Centre for Training and Protection of Women and Child’s Rights, which helps women affected by GBV, Fatima was able to have surgery to repair the physical damage caused by the FGM as well as counselling for her and her husband to overcome the emotional trauma.

She now runs a small catering business and advocates against FGM in her own family and at SEEMA events. “This network opened my life,” she says. “Before, I was confined to my home and now I’m exposed to lots of different things and people.”

The women also support one another through saving and lending groups to finance projects that will boost their status in their communities or at home.

The effect trickles down to other women in their communities and to the next generation, too. Fatima’s community has stopped carrying out FGM after she found the courage to tell them what she went through.

Tabidi cites other cultural changes: “Some of [the women] benefit from this project by pushing their daughters to education.”

For Jamila, one of the most important things she has learned from the Superwoman Network is that she is not alone. “It taught me how to change my thoughts,” she says, “and now the life I’m living is completely different.”

The names of some of the women have been changed to protect their identities.

The Push to Get Every African Country to Criminalize Marital Rape

SOUTH-AFRICA-ZUMA.jpg

This article originally appeared on the Women & Girls Hub of News Deeply, and you can find the original here. For important news about issues that affect women and girls in the developing world, you can sign up to the Women & Girls Hub email list. By Rumbi Chakamba

The U.N.’s Declaration on the Elimination of Violence against Women states that ‘violence against women shall be understood to encompass … marital rape.’ But spousal rape is still not recognized in the laws of more than half the countries in Africa.

 

According to the World Health Organization’s 2006 study on domestic violence, the most common form of violence against women is perpetrated by their intimate partners. But in many parts of Africa, the rape of a woman by her husband isn’t considered a crime.

In several countries, including Senegal and Botswana, there is no legislation dealing with the issue of spousal or marital rape, while in Nigeria, Ethiopia, Kenya and other countries, the law protects conjugal rights, stating that rape can only occur outside of wedlock. While governments continue to turn a blind eye to marital rape, say activists, many women remain vulnerable to sustained abuse as their country’s laws fail to protect them.

The 2014 Kenya Demographic and Health Survey shows that 8 percent of women surveyed said they had experienced sexual violence from their husbands within the past year, while 14 percent reporting having experienced sexual violence from their partners at least once in their lifetime.

A policy brief on marital rape produced by the African Population Health Research Center for the Kenyan Parliament in 2010 highlighted the stories of various victims in a bid to conscientize legislators on the need for policy change. One was the story of 28-year-old Sally (not her real name), who is a client of the Women’s Rights Awareness Programme, an NGO that provides shelter, counseling and practical and legal advice to survivors of gender-based violence in Nairobi. She reported that she resisted having sex with her late husband because he “had signs” of a sexually transmitted disease, but he would force her. After her husband’s death, Sally went to a clinic to get tested and found out she was HIV-positive.

According to the World Bank Research on Women, Business and Law, only 14 countries in Africa have legislation in place that specifically criminalizes marital rape. While it is possible for women to file complaints in most of the countries that do not specifically criminalize rape, in eight states husbands are exempt from facing criminal penalties for forcing their wives to have sex with them.

Until recently, Malawi was one of the African states where the law was silent on marital rape. Activists in the country have long been fighting to have the act recognized as a crime. In 2001, rights group Women in Law in Southern Africa-Malawi (WILSA-Malawi) drafted a bill on marital rape which sparked fierce public debate. But the debate was eventually shut down by a judge who said such a law would go against one of the basic foundations of marriage. “By entering into marriage, each spouse is taken to have consented to sexual intercourse with the other spouse during the existence of his or her marriage,” Supreme Court Judge Duncan Tambala told reporters at the time.

Now, after 15 years of campaigning, WILSA Malawi National Coordinator Mzati Mbeko says the group can claim a small victory with the introduction of the Marriage, Divorce and Family Relations Bill 2015. While the bill reaffirms conjugal rights in marriage, it also spells out exceptions where a spouse may refuse to have sex “on reasonable grounds.” According to the bill, those grounds include poor health, recovery after giving birth, recovery after surgery and “if he/she has reasonable fear that engaging in sexual intercourse is likely to cause physical or psychological harm to either spouse.”

The bill also states that a husband can be convicted of marital rape for nonconsensual sex if he and his wife are separated at the time. Though Mbeko touts the bill as a much-needed first step, he is also quick to say that it does not do nearly enough to address the full scale of the problem. “We can now push full throttle for the recognition of marital rape within the law as it [marital rape] is a form of gender-based violence,” he says. “With no law, it will continue and women will continue to suffer.”

But getting lawmakers to take a stronger stand against non-consensual sex within marriage means overcoming deeply ingrained patriarchal and cultural beliefs. Annie Banda, a gender activist in Malawi who has been lobbying for the country to pass a marital rape law, says that in private discussions with various parliamentarians, she has been told that marital rape is simply not possible. “When you are outside the meeting rooms, they will tell you there is no way that a man can rape his own wife,” she says.

In Botswana, too, the attitude toward sex in marriage holds that women give up their individual rights once they enter wedlock. Speaking on condition of anonymity, a senior police officer in the Botswana Police Service confirms that he and his colleagues do not deal with marital rape cases. “We as the police cannot police in the bedroom,” he says. “How can you refuse to be with your own husband when you belong to him and expect us to intervene?”

Even in places where laws against marital rape exist, cultural beliefs make them difficult to enforce. South Africa was one of the first African countries to legislate against marital rape, in 1993, but research reveals that patriarchal attitudes still influence how the courts handle cases of marital rape. In its 2012 report on marital rape in South Africa, the Open Society Initiative for Southern Africa documents one case where a judge dismissed marital rape charges because the husband’s “desire to make love to his wife must have overwhelmed him, hence his somewhat violent behavior.” In another case, the complainant was abducted and raped by her husband, who thought it was his right as she had not reimbursed him the lobolo (bride price) he had paid for her. In his ruling, the judge said that the defendant’s actions “though totally unacceptable in law … were shaped and molded by the norms, beliefs and customary practices by which he lived his life.”

Gender activist Annie Banda predicts a long road ahead in the fight to eradicate marital rape. “Marital rape is there, but people do not want to accept it,” she says. “The victims are complaining, but law enforcers still do not believe it is possible for a man to rape his wife, because of our culture.”

For Kinshasa’s Homeless Girls, a Life of Abuse and Servitude

CONGO-HUNGER.jpg

This article originally appeared on the Women & Girls Hub of News Deeply, and you can find the original here. For important news about issues that affect women and girls in the developing world, you can sign up to the Women & Girls Hub email list. By Didem Tali

Of the 25,000 street children in Congo's capital, the majority are young men. But while boys can make money through manual labor, girls often find that prostitution and exploitation are their only options for survival.

 

KINSHASA, Congo – When Cecilia’s parents died suddenly in 2009, there was nobody left to look after her. “I had some older siblings but they are all in Angola. Nobody asked after me,” she says. “They just abandoned me.” Only 8 years old at the time, she ended up living on the streets of the capital of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), hungry, cold and afraid. So it seemed like a miracle when, after two weeks of homelessness, she was approached by a woman who offered to adopt her. “You are too pretty to be on the streets,” the woman had said to Cecilia. “Come home with me and I’ll make you my daughter.”

That was how she found herself working as a “domestic house slave,” says Cecilia, now 15. For six years, she was physically, verbally and sexually abused, sometimes by the six biological sons and daughters of her new “mother.” Then one day, the woman punched Cecilia so hard, she broke her front teeth. Cecilia ran away, back to the streets, where she has been living ever since.

Cecilia is one of 25,000 street children in Kinshasa, a figure that, according to UNICEF, has almost doubled in the last decade. The DRC’s high fertility rates combined with the ongoing urban sprawl of one of the biggest cities in Africa means the number of homeless children continues to increase, says the organization. It’s a problem across sub-Saharan Africa, where 200 million children are living in poverty, at risk of exploitation, abuse and disease. And in many places, those risks are disproportionately greater for girls.

“There are more boys in the streets of Kinshasa than girls – I would say a third of the street children are girls,” says Jean-Pierre Godding, a project manager at the grassroots charity Street Children of Kinshasa.

But, “girls are considered more ‘useful’ than boys. Families usually exploit girls as much as they can.”

For one thing, girls are more vulnerable to sexual violence, says Godding. “Boys can do small manual jobs to make a bit of money here and there. But girls in the streets often end up in prostitution.”

Those who don’t become sex workers might get pulled into domestic work. “Families tend to keep girls to run the household chores and help raise the other children in the family,” says Godding. “Many girls also marry young, which is another reason why they don’t end up in the streets as much as the boys.”

Chloe, 16, turned to prostitution when she ran away from home two years ago. “My sisters wanted to marry me off to an elderly man,” she says. “I’d rather be in the streets and do sex work than be an old man’s wife.” For Chloe, like so many other girls on the streets, rape, sexually transmitted diseases, unwanted pregnancies, violence and stigma are everyday realities. But even when their circumstances change for the better, it’s difficult for them to leave that world. “They usually have a ‘boyfriend’ who solicits customers for them in return of protection,” says Godding. “Their self-esteem and perception [of themselves] take a significant hit.”

Organizations like Street Children of Kinshasa can offer support for the city’s young homeless people, providing dorms, some education and food. Sometimes, the organization can trace the families of abandoned children and negotiate with them to reunify the family. It also offers micro-credit programs to help the families start small businesses and thus have better economic means.

But Godding believes keeping children off the streets means going back to where they came from. “The only way to permanently help out these girls is economic empowerment and development for the children and their communities,” he says.

According to Clemence Petit-Perot, a program director at the Children’s Radio Foundation, which uses radio and broadcast training in Africa to boost community dialogue and participation, giving street children temporary shelter, protection and education might be quick wins. But long-term solutions, she says, lie in changing public perceptions and mobilizing communities.

“Street children in Kinshasa and the rest of Africa suffer from intense stigma,” says Petit-Perot. “Most people see them merely as thieves or prostitutes. If there’s a crime [in a rundown area] the police and the community usually blame the street children.”

“A strong dialogue is the only way for communities to understand that street children are complex human beings with difficult decisions and challenges, rather than just shadows.”

Neither Chloe nor Cecilia see their situations as inevitable. Chloe wants to quit sex work one day and go to school. Cecilia loves clothes and dreams of becoming a fashion designer. But both know there is no easy path off the street.

“People tell me I am very good with fashion and styling. I would really love to go to fashion school and learn more,” says Cecilia, who makes sure to put on beautiful skirts, necklaces and bracelets every day. “But I don’t know if I can do that. I need to go to high school first.”

The names and personal details of some of the children have been changed to protect their identities.

This story was reported with the support of an African Great Lakes Fellowship from the International Women’s Media Foundation.

Sexual Violence Is Not Inevitable — The White House

b0572f5771042434942a70eb204a6d5a.jpeg
medium.comOn June 14, the White House will convene people from around the world for the United State of Women, a large-scale effort to both celebrate how far women and girls have come and highlight all that still remains to be done. This post is part of a series leading up to the event that will discuss the challenges that remain ahead of us — and what we can do to overcome them. Visit here for more.

In recent years, there has been a significant increase in news coverage and activism regarding sexual assault, and more importantly, sexual assault prevention. What was once considered an unspeakable and shameful thing to discuss, even behind closed doors, has now become a mass movement across the nation, with campaigns like It’s On Us at the forefront.

It’s On Us aims to fundamentally change the way college campuses think about sexual assault. This past year, I had the privilege of being a part of the campaign’s inaugural Student Advisory Committee — a group of students at various college and high school campuses across the country, all dedicated to ending sexual assault. In this rape culture in which we live, especially prevalent on college campuses, people are so prone to disregard stories of sexual violence as fictitious — but stop and think for a second about what incentive anyone would have to speak out and identify as a survivor. It’s not glamorous to have people pity you and doubt you; to have people trivialize and stigmatize your lived reality. Trust me, I know.

Read more

Want to receive early-bird invitations to our global events, custom-tailored content we think you'll love, and get exclusive access to "The World Women Report"?

Join Us by Subscribing NOW!

Pakistani women risking all to fight for their rights

e0c74667bc6ce64ff5f3cbd54bb2f22c.jpeg

The attack Kainat Soomro suffered is more than any 13-year-old should endure, but sadly, her victimization didn't end there—and she's not the only one to suffer sexual violence followed by victim blaming, in a troubling trend that makes victims afraid to come forward. Read an excerpt below, and click through to read more about the bravery Soomro and her family have shown in the face of stigma and tragedy; as well as the stories of other women who survived their attacks, even saw their attackers sent to jail, only to be treated as outcasts themselves. tampabay.com - KARACHI, Pakistan — Kainat Soomro was 13 years old and on her way to buy a toy for her newborn niece when three men kidnapped her, held her for several days and repeatedly raped her.

Eight years later, she is still battling for justice. She sits on a steel-framed bed in her parents' three-bedroom home and holds her blue shawl tight around her body. When she describes the horror of her captivity, her voice is barely a whisper, but it gains strength when she talks of the fight she has been waging: going to Pakistan's courts, holding protests, rejecting the rulings of the traditional Jirga council, taking on the powerful landlord and politician who she says are protecting her attackers.

The Associated Press does not usually identify victims of sexual abuse, but Kainat has gone public with her case. Her battle for justice has inspired an award-winning 2013 movie, Outlawed in Pakistan. Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani teenage Nobel Peace Prize winner who was shot by the Taliban, invited Kainat to the Nobel award ceremony, and her fund has given Kainat financial help.

Yet Kainat's family has paid a high price for her bravery. One sister remains unmarried, and another was divorced because her in-laws were ashamed to be associated with Kainat. In 2010, her brother was killed over his sister's refusal to stay silent.

Read the rest here.