On December 15th, a delegation of Chiquitano people engaged in a protest on a main road in the area was attacked by an unknown number of people traveling to a meeting in buses. When the bus passengers encountered a road block created by the protestors they attacked them with sticks, stones and some small arms. Fifty people were injured as the indigenous people attempted to defend themselves.
That same day, the offices of indigenous organizations in the towns of Concepcion and San Javier were attacked, and several of their leaders received death threats, causing them to flee their homes. The Indigenous Central Committee of Concepcion said in a press release that 100 people attacked and destroyed the office shared by several indigenous groups there, destroying computers, cameras and other electronics, office furniture, and two motorcycles before burning the office and all files. No one from the indigenous organizations was injured in this attack.
Details of these attacks were released by the Indigenous Central Committee and the Coordinator of Ethnic People of Santa Cruz (CPESC), the Organization of Chiquitano Indigenous People (OICH), and three other organizations. The indigenous groups denounced the organizers of the attacks, mostly political and business leaders from the area objecting to the work of indigenous people's organizations to gain legal title to their ancestral lands.
Oxfam America funds the work of the OICH and CPESC groups, which are organizing the legal titling of indigenous lands in the Monte Verde region of eastern Bolivia and promoting the human rights of the indigenous peoples there.
This recent wave of well coordinated attacks on indigenous people in eastern Bolivia is just one in a series over the last several years. Bolivia has seen immense disparities between the indigenous majority (close to 80 percent of the population) and tiny elite that controls most of the natural and other resources of the country. The status quo seems likely to change under the current presidency of Evo Morales, who has demonstrated sympathies with the indigenous majority. In the first few months of his administration, he has nationalized the oil and gas industry, removed several obstacles that had slowed down indigenous land claims for decades, and agreed to re-examine fundamental clauses in the national constitution with a particular eye to the way that resources are shared across the population.
"These actions show a complete lack of respect for the human rights of indigenous people," said Gonzalo Delgado, director of Oxfam America's program in South America. "We express our solidarity with our partners in Bolivia, and hope that those responsible for these attacks will be brought to justice."
]]>Tato Boru, 48 and the mother of five children, is a peacemaker. She leads the Moyale area women's peace council which Oxfam's local partner, the Research Center for Civic and Human Rights Education (RCCHE), helped to found.
Here, near the Kenyan border, many people make their living as herders. Droughts plague the region, and their consequences—shriveled pasture and water sources sucked dry—are particularly severe for families of herders and their animals who depend on those resources for survival. Tension over shortages can trigger disputes, as can concern about land demarcation lines drawn by the government. Add guns to the mix, and conflicts quickly turn lethal. Over the years, fighting in the area around Moyale has taken many lives.
One of several similar committees, the council Boru heads advocates for peaceful coexistence among the different ethnic groups in the region and helps mediate between them when conflicts start to simmer. There are also councils for young adults and village elders.
Giving an example of how her group works, Boru told about a recent dispute that erupted when a group of Somalis settled in a nearby village predominantly occupied by Gabra.
"There was a stone attack and there were a few gun shots, but no one was hurt. We felt it was time for our intervention," she said. "We went...and told them that land is the gift of God and we all can share it."
Accompanied by members from the other two councils, the women urged the sparring groups not to resort to violence, but to engage in discussions first, and if that didn't work, to take the matter to court. In the heat of disputes like this, council members try to visit the troubled village at least once a week. As things cool down, they cut back their visits to once a month.
Raising awareness is one of the key objectives of the peace council, and something its members take on regularly in both formal and informal settings. Occasionally, the women will ask community officials to organize a gathering of local people at which the council will then make a presentation. Other times, community events, such as weddings, can serve as an opportunity for peace teachings.
Peace initiatives like these are helping women reclaim a degree of authority that was once theirs—an authority that gun-fueled violence has severely eroded. With RCCHE's help, women are now speaking out about the suffering armed conflicts shower on their families. They are finding a voice and sharing their burdens of loss and sadness.
"Before this, we weren't in a position to disclose our feeling about conflict. We simply suffered with it. But now, we've got a chance to speak on peace and work on it. Our awareness and participation bring change," said Boru.
"In the late '90s, there was an awakening to the value of traditional conflict resolution methods," said Muthoni Muriu, Oxfam America's director of regional programs. "That's when the role of women in peace building really came on stage."
It's a role that is rightfully theirs: Women bear the brunt of hardship when violence rips through a community, leaving husbands dead, homes in ashes, livestock looted.
"They lose fathers, brothers, and sons," said Boru, seated on a low stool in the cocoon-like quiet of her tukul. "They take care of the wounded, the children, the animals. Even if they don't die, they have to shoulder so many of the burdens...the horror."
There is acknowledgement among men in this patriarchal culture that women bring something unique to peace work.
"They are better than men," said Boru Roba, a man and the leader of a peace committee for elders.
"Women can play both a fueling role and a cooling role in conflict," added another man, Galma Roba, a representative for traditional leaders. "If men get initiated for conflict and women interject, the men might change their minds."
Highlighting the awful consequences of conflict—the death, the destruction—against the broad benefits of peace is at the core of the women's strategy. It's an argument few can refute.
"When we try to sensitize them on the importance of peace, there is no man who opposes us," said Mako Dalecha, a mother of five children and a member of the peace council. "Peace—and rain—are the basis for life in our area."
]]>The 25th anniversary of the AIDS epidemic has come and gone, and after all the UN meetings, the hand wringing, and the finger pointing, there remains one key element that has received little press: In the epicenter of the AIDS epidemic—in southern Africa, home to one of every three people in the world living with HIV—it is women like Leona, in Mozambique, who are shouldering a disproportionate burden of the disease.
The problem here is lack of respect for women's rights. In some places in southern Africa women are prohibited by law from owning or inheriting property, and so have few financial assets. This limits their independence, putting them at risk financially, emotionally, and sexually. It is not surprising that more than half of the world's HIV-infected women, more than nine million of them, live in southern Africa, according to the UNAIDS report released in November 2006. With little power to negotiate their sexual activity, females in some areas of southern Africa now represent three quarters of HIV and AIDS infected people aged 15 to 24. When people say AIDS has become a "feminized" epidemic, this is what they mean. In 2004, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan appointed a task force to study the problem. The experts urgently recommended the development of non-discriminatory laws and policies designed to help women protect their rights and reduce their vulnerability.
The countries of southern Africa lack adequate resources (not to mention a vaccine and access to drugs) to care for the millions with HIV and AIDS. Yet unlike the scientific barriers to ending the epidemic, it is well within our power to support women's rights—an essential means to cutting down the number of women infected and affected by HIV and AIDS.
Creating equal rights for women in Africa, like everywhere else, is a challenge. Last May, I saw it for myself. Within an hour of my arrival in South Africa, I heard on the radio that the African National Congress's Deputy President Jacob Zuma was acquitted of charges that he had raped an HIV-positive woman, the daughter of an ANC comrade.
Violence against women is endemic in South Africa, where a woman is raped every 26 seconds. But women's rights experts I met said that the Zuma trial itself said a lot about the country's attitude toward women. There was intense scrutiny of the victim's sexual past, while Zuma's was not considered. Zuma, a potential presidential candidate, arrived at the courthouse in a motorcade with body guards and enjoyed vocal supporters in the streets as he proudly invoked his Zulu culture to explain why he'd had unprotected sex with the woman. By contrast, attempting to ensure her safety and preserve her privacy, the accuser crept into the court through the back door. The discrepancy in power and access to justice was remarkable, especially since the country was just celebrating the 10th anniversary of its progressive constitution, which has very clear provisions guaranteeing equality for men and women before the law.
But for every Zuma trial, there is progress too. The day I encountered Leona in Mozambique, she met with a legal advisor at a women's rights organization in Maputo to learn how to defend her right to stay in her house. Accustomed to claiming a dead relative's assets, her in-laws did not realize that Mozambique had a new Family Law that protects the right of widows to inherit property. "He never had another wife," Leona said, "so no matter what his relatives say, I have the right to inherit the house and things."
In addition to changing laws, proponents of women's right also need to work with cultural leaders to help encourage long-term changes in customs and traditions that discriminate against women. Women themselves are taking this on, sometimes at great personal risk. Cecilia Reis, an elderly traditional healer and guardian of culture and tradition in her community, told me that she is committed to teaching women about their rights under Mozambique's new Family Law to counter the exploitative customs that put them in danger of poverty and abuse. "You have to stand up, face men eye to eye," she told me. "This is the only way for them to see the power of women."
In one of the most notable successes of legal reform in the region, a coalition of five women rights and development organizations in Mozambique, funded by Oxfam America, researched and advocated forthe new Family Law. They showed what strong organizations and committed women can do with the right kind of assistance.
Governments, the UN, international NGOs, and other donors need to expand their horizons in the fight against HIV and AIDS, and address the gender dimension of the crisis. We all have a responsibility to ensure that women like Cecilia have the support they need to create solutions to their own problems. For the most heavily infected and affected part of the world, it is an essential component in the fight against AIDS and the fight for our future.
]]>"Our ancestors can become angry because we don't respect them," said Hilario Muthembe, a local activist working with Oxfam America's partner MULEIDE in the bustling suburb of Jorge Dimitrov outside Maputo, Mozambique. The solution? Consult a traditional healer, who can help. "A small ceremony can show we respect them," Muthembe said, "and can cure the problem."
"Traditional healers play a number of very important roles in traditional society," said anthropoligist Gordon Chavanduka, president of the Zimbabwe Traditional Healer Association. "Firstly, they are the medical experts. Secondly, they are the cultural experts, and regard themselves as the guardians of their culture.
"They are also counselors, in all issues. Even the chiefs and headmen, who are the political leaders, almost all of them have a traditional healer as an advisor, to assist them in their governing."
Susan LeClerb Madlala, an anthropologist at the University of KwaZulu Natal, says that people find a certain satisfaction in consulting a traditional healer, who can not only treat the immediate illness or problem, but provide an explanation of the ultimate source of the problem itself, something a medical doctor can't do.
"Let's say you are hanging your wash on the line behind your house, and a snake bites you. Well, a medical doctor will treat the snake bite, but he can't answer a lot of important questions: Why did the snake bite you? Why was it at your house? Who sent that snake?"
Given the prominence of the spirit world in many areas, it is essential for rights organizations like MULEIDE to acknowledge the role of traditional healers in communities where they seek to intervene. Showing them respect and working with them, instead of dismissing them as "witch doctors," will help make the gradual changes in society that can lead to better respect for women, and recognition of their rights as full citizens, protected in Mozambique's Family Law.
]]>But first, they sing and dance, accompanied by whistles and drums. The entire neighborhood arrives to see what is happening. They sing songs of solidarity, and the power of women to overcome poverty and illiteracy, and about a new law in Mozambique they are using to redefine their entire society, one family at a time.
The Mozambique Family Law, promulgated in 2004 is designed to bring women's rights under law in line with international standards. Thanks to this new law, women now have a chance to inherit and own financial assets such as cash and property, and have a job that earns wages—without the permission of a husband or male family member.
And the Family Law recognizes customary marriages registered with local government—an important distinction in places like Jorge Dimitrov where couples can't always afford formal marriage ceremonies. Now, women living with a husband for more than a year have the right to a share of family assets if the marriage breaks up.
However, some people in Hulene and the greater Jorge Dimitrov area are basically unaware of the new law, and live by customs and traditions that are at odds with it. The problems this creates are most obvious in cases of domestic violence and other family conflicts.
"We see a lot of problems with couples," said Hilario Muthembe, an activist in Hulene. "Maybe the husband has an illness, and says his wife is a witch and wishes him to be dead."
And when families consult local traditional leaders or healers, the matter can be resolved based on traditions and local customs that favor those with the most power: men. The activists in Hulene said this opens up the possibility of domestic violence, and an abrupt "divorce" leaving a woman and her children on the street with no means of support.
Encouraging local leaders to respect women's rights under the Family Law is the mission of MULEIDE, Oxfam America's partner in Mozambique. The organization has trained more than 400 legal advisors in three provinces who work with traditional healers, the main custodians of local culture in neighborhoods like Bario Hulene.
Their mission is to make sure that women understand their new rights, and that traditional healers help protect them. "We want the illiterate grassroots women of Mozambique to know that there is a legal instrument that can help overcome decades of suffering," said Rafa Machava, executive director of MULEIDE. "So we need to engage everyone to balance their customs with the new law."
Traditional healers are the key to the strategy, as they advise local elites and families, and can be the ones to help create the long-term shift in culture that will promote respect for women's rights. Noemia Fernando, one of MULEIDE's trained legal advisors in Bario Hulene, said it is essential for her and the other activists in the community to enlist traditional healers to help women. "Traditional healers have the power to treat them, get the problem resolved, and unify the family," she said. "That is why we need them with us, they can help us do our work." Fernando and her MULEIDE colleagues explained the new law to the traditional healers in Hulene, and some healers are now helping them explain the new law to their clients, and develop non-violent solutions to conflicts.
Fatima Coelho, a traditional healer for three years, got her training on the new Family Law in 2005. And she is using her training to help ensure that women's rights are respected in her work. Coelho said it is a real challenge to help couples avoid violence. "I'm trying to teach that it is better to sit down and talk instead of beating each other—this is not the way to build up a family. This is the strongest value I gained from my training with MULEIDE in 2005, it is the best way to address these family issues."
Cecilia Reis, an elderly woman active as a healer since 1962, has been an ardent promoter of women's rights and has been working with MULEIDE since 1994. She is at the leading edge of creating a new culture of respect for women in Mozambique. Her comments show her commitment, her realistic outlook, and her aspirations. And at the root of her dedication are her own personal commitment and the training she got from MULEIDE, which is critical to her work as a spiritual advisor.
"Women and men should be equal. Women have to open their eyes and claim their rights. These issues will not change overnight—we have to fight, and get our men to [understand], because they are very difficult and don't want to change. But we still have to stand up, look them in the eye and say to them, "we have to share, because the Family Law says we have equal rights."
"There is no one who will chase me away from my house, not even my husband, he knows that I have my own rights. This is what we are trying to teach our women. But some are not open minded, and they are dependent on their husbands, sometimes they accept being beaten all the time, and sometimes they die of domestic violence, because they have nowhere to go.
"And they don't even know that there are lawyers at MULEIDE, and at the courts, who can defend them. We have lost many members of our community to domestic violence.
"But what can we do? We are a poor country, so we have to work hard. The few of us who are able to do this work, we have to stand up and work strongly."
]]>Oxfam has allowed us to do a lot of research. And Oxfam has been instrumental in helping us come to the US to say, "We really don't want CAFTA," face-to-face.
We believe that public opinion has been manipulated. The business sector, which is pushing CAFTA, has said that people in Central America want CAFTA. The reality is totally different
For example, in El Salvador, this agreement was approved late at night and behind closed doors. In Honduras, when they approved it, the legislature had to leave through the back door because there were protestors out front. In Guatemala, the people are asking for a national referendum even though the president says they can't afford it.
We believe that this is an important decision for the future of our countries. There has to be a national referendum so people can say what they think.
I believe that the negotiations and ratification process is totally undemocratic—because the negotiations have been carried out, and still are being carried out, by a very small group of people. We have asked the Congressional representatives in Guatemala if they understand the agreement. And they say they don't even have a copy to look at. But they have been pressured to vote in favor of CAFTA. That's not democratic and says a lot about the process.
If CAFTA really is a good thing, why do they have to hide negotiations and do it behind the people's back?
I got news of the police repressing local people who were protesting against CAFTA. I don't think CAFTA has been approved yet, but it can happen at any moment. (Guatamala's congress ratified CAFTA on March 10, 2005. The agreement is awaiting ratification by the US congress).
We lobby the Guatemalan congress. At the national level, we are part of Mesa Global, which has been leading the protests this week. We also present proposals and research on issues related to the negotiation process and the potential impact of the trade agreement. We have been working with people involved in the negotiations and ratification of CAFTA, as well as with local organizations.
I'm very sad because I feel that the future, whatever it is, will be decided here in the US. They don't have the right to make decisions about our lives.
]]>But then the Family Law coalition, five groups funded by Oxfam America that helped create and promote the new law, turned to the next phase of their mission: To ensure the new law is understood by a diverse population in a vast country of 19.5 million in 10 provinces, speaking six languages (with 16 dialects).
The new Family Law contains a number of revolutionary concepts for a country like Mozambique, which is struggling to emerge from poverty, conflict, colonization, and illiteracy.
A complete overhaul of marriage laws: The new law recognizes customary or non-formal traditional marriages, and allows widows to inherit land and other property. It also raises the minimum age of marriage for girls to 18, which will help encourage the next generation of females to gain secondary education. Women now have the right to seek divorce in the case of domestic violence or infidelity, and to create and enforce prenuptial agreements.
Redefining the status of women in society: Putting women on an even footing with men is essential for fighting poverty, in any country. "The old law increased poverty for women," said Maria Orlanda, secretary general of the Mozambique Women Lawyers' Association in Maputo. "They depended on husbands for assets and there was no way for them to accumulate wealth of any kind." Under the new Family Law, men are no longer the de facto head of a household. This authority is now shared with women, who also have the right to work outside the home without the permission of a husband or male relative, and to buy, own, and manage property or other financial assets.
"You have to understand the problems of grassroots people to really help them," says Rafa Machava, executive direct or Muleide, a women's rights and development organization that is part of the Family Law coalition in Mozambique. With funding from Oxfam America, Muleide is reaching out to people—particularly traditional leaders—in small communities, training them and promoting the new law in ways that do not create conflict with their concepts of family life, and the role of women in society.
Muleide targets traditional leaders as the key for real change in communities. "They are the voice that is trusted," Machava says, "and they open doors for you, as respected people in the community."
One of Muleide's central missions is to provide assistance to women who are in danger of domestic violence. "Many perpetrators of violence claim that there is a traditional basis for the conflict in their household, based on their beliefs," Machava said. "A man may say his wife is a witch, or has been cursed by ancestors, because she can't have children. Or the wife may say that the husband did not pay enough lobola, a dowry or bride price, and this makes her unable to have children. And if for any reason a child dies, you can have these sorts of conflicts. A wife can be sent back to her family, and they will consult a traditional healer for a solution."
Muleide's activists work with the traditional healers. "Our activists ask the healer to tell the couple about the new Family Law," Machava said. "We teach them in their local language, because they don't speak Portuguese, so that there will be no conflict between the advice from a traditional healer and the law. This is a way of showing that domestic problems can be resolved without violence, and people can learn that they can seek legal help from Muleide and other organizations." The organization trained 250 traditional healers in Maputo province in 2005.
Working with a traditional healer trained in the new Family Law helps people resolve problems based on traditions with which they are comfortable, while at the same time learning to respect the new law and avoid solutions that violate women's rights. This added expertise in the new law is of great interest to traditional healers, says Machava. "They openly say they work with Muleide because it brings them more customers," she said.
]]>Rodolfo Pocop, the National Coordinator for the National Indigenous and Peasant Council (CONIC), says that despite this violent history, the indigenous people of Guatemala are well-organized, and mobilizing to protect their culture and defend their rights and ancestral lands.He feels their next big challenge is surviving in the "Free Trade" economy in the Americas. The number one concern: international mining projects, which Pocop saysis a significant threat to Mayan lands and culture. In a talk with Oxfam America staff in Guatemala, Pocop explains indigenous concerns about mining and indigenous lands and rights.
"Our ancestors taught us to love mother earth and live in harmony with all natural beings. All our political, economic, and social institutions are part of this heritage. This is the base on which we construct the future. The valleys, the plains, the mountains, the deserts, the oceans, the rivers, the condor, the eagle, the hummingbird, the puma, the jaguar—they are all witness to our collective systems of living, based on sustainability of humans and the environment.
We were kicked off our original lands by the colonizers, and then by our governments. We were divided in order to guarantee political control and pushed onto inhospitable lands. We are now trying to manage these lands by the conservation of biodiversity and natural resources. This started in 1492 and continued through the 19th century. In 1954, the best, most productive indigenous lands were passed to private hands, like the banana companies. Big areas now grow cotton and sugar cane; the best lands are for coffee production. In 1954, our culture and our collective ways of living were destroyed, and collective property was abolished.
[From 1960] until 1996, there was an armed conflict. Part of the reason for this was the concentration of wealth in the hands of no more than 30 families. They had all the economic and political power and social control over the country. Seventy percent of the population, the indigenous people, did not even have basic legal rights. We did not get any benefits from the government, we were just used as cheap labor, almost slaves or indentured servants. During the 36 years of armed conflict, 83 percent of the victims were among the indigenous Mayan people.
In Guatemala we have a republican constitution, almost a literal copy of the US Constitution. Only in articles 66 to 70 are indigenous people mentioned. We are seen as resources and folklore. Our fundamental rights are not recognized.
Discrimination is structural, it comes from the government, and it is replicated in the educational system. It teaches more about other cultures than our own. And for that reason, when we speak our own language and wear our traditional clothing, they say that we are inferior to those who are not Mayan. They assume that other peoples' culture is superior to that which is here.
If the state structure discriminates against indigenous people, then this is converted into exclusion from development. These last four years we have seen an example of this exclusion : 85 percent of the national budget was spent in the urban areas; 15 percent was for rural areas. But not even this amount reached the countryside due to high levels of corruption and misuse of funds.
The social fabric of indigenous communities has been torn. If we have survived for 500 years, it is not just chance. It is because our grandmothers and grandfathers have taught us to survive by growing crops without chemical fertilizer, and to live together, in solidarity, in harmony between humans, nature, Mother Earth, the birds, and animals."
"Before the first conquerors came, the Maya worked with gold, and silver, and other metals. They used these resources, but for personal and domestic usage. It was not for export. Now the extraction of metals comes with a cost. It is breaking the harmony between families and nature.
We are concerned about mining, and the way it is done, with open pits. Cyanide is highly toxic for humans.
We also can't understand why these companies don't respect something very important and fundamental to our survival: our own perspective and spirituality. Ours is not any old religion. Our spirituality is precisely the harmony between humans, Mother Earth, space, and nature. When we see the respect to Mother Earth is lost, we feel our roots are touched. And that is what is taken from us. It is like an extermination of our cultural identity, a moral extermination of our historical memory, of our grandmothers and grandfathers and what they have contributed to the development of humanity. This is the harmony of the Maya.
A whole system of life and culture is being destroyed. Scientific data and analysis show one impact, on nature, but to us it is deeper. We feel like this kind of mining represents a destruction of life and culture. So we are denouncing this new system of development, because it is passing over our right to be consulted, which is protected by the International Labor Organization Convention No. 169.
The benefit of mining to Guatemala is about one percent of the earnings generated, and only about half of one percent is for the municipality. So after all the millions and millions are taken out, half of one percent is nothing. And after they are done, they will leave our lands and they will be no longer useful for agriculture.
In the case of the Marlin mine, they project 109,000 ounces of gold and silver. With this comes the destruction of 10,000 hectares of land. There will be a lot of Mayan communities unable to survive into the future.
Our struggle going forward as indigenous people directly affected by mining is based on three principles: we will keep struggling so that our cultural rights as indigenous peoples are recognized; under no conditions will we negotiate with the government or companies the principles of lands and territories—we have a territory, and this should be respected; and we have the freedom of self determination about our lands and territories and their resources."
"We do not have a formal mining code that reflects our world view. Our ministry of energy and mines does not recognize that we have a right to be consulted each time they want to take a product out of our territory. Our government does not take into consideration the priorities of the indigenous people. It does not know about rural poverty and realities and does not understand indigenous peoples.
A high level commission is now developing a mining law. The government is trying to please every sector—using a sort of double discourse. When they speak to us, they say "Oh, you indigenous people, we love you and admire you" and they are going to give us all these things. And when the transnational companies come, they do the same thing. It is selling Guatemala, and keeping a good relationship with everyone while doing it.
The issue is not for them to give us something; the issue is for them to recognize our ancestral rights."
]]>For that reason Oxfam America's duty is clear: We and our project partners must help reform government policies, laws, and social injustices that deny people the right to live a decent life. We do this by providing funding, training, and the moral support people need to make real, substantive and transformative changes. The courageous and visionary people who do this work are setting out to build a movement for social justice—and Oxfam America is one of the few organizations to which they can turn for the help they need.
]]>My grandmother told us that we were many, many Secoyas, between the Rio Napo and Putamayo, near the frontier with Colombia. We must have been over 8,000 there?
At the time of the Spanish conquest many people died from measles and mumps. And even when my grandma was a little girl, she had to escape into the jungle to avoid such terrible diseases. She said that nobody came to help them; people were dying in their houses, like chickens.
Then came the rubber boom. The rubber producers held the Secoyas as slaves. Many Secoyas drank poison to liberate themselves from the indignity of forced labor. Others fled deeper into the jungle.
After all this dislocation the Secoyas regrouped in about 1970. We were only 120 people. And those remaining 120 people, along with their children and grandchildren, were the ones who had to endure the impact of the oil companies. And of those 120, I was one.
This is to contextualize what is happening today. These 120 continue to suffer. Two [just] died of cancer, and eight years ago more people died of cancer. So we wonder, for those 120 native people and their descendants, if our days are numbered too; if some sickness will take us instead of a natural death. This is to say that life is uncertain now.
The oil companies have had a significant cultural impact, especially on our territory. How we used to live—naturally, that is—is no longer natural. We are experiencing the impact of many other cultures, especially from [modern-day migration]. Before we didn't need money because we had everything we needed. There were animals and fish; there was fruit, and medicines. Everything was found in the forest. But now we must go out to buy everything.
We also need to buy notebooks and school supplies. We are now surrounded by school walls in order to learn. The education beforehand for the Secoyas began at four in the morning. The elderly people in the community worked with the young people, teaching them weaving. They also told stories, legends, which taught respect for older people.
Though we agree that education should take place in the classroom, we are not in agreement that the only thing that should be taught is what the government decides should be taught. We see that we are not educating ourselves and our children in the way that our ancestors taught us. In that sense we are losing our culture. Now the youth doesn't know about our legends and our stories and our customs. And this is why now, through our own bilingual education, we are trying to reintegrate our own values, our own cultures, and our own traditions into our education.
Another great impact is on the environment. For example, we no longer have animals because one step behind the oil companies came the colonists. And every time the colonists found an animal they had to shoot it, they had to kill it. [The animals] withdrew farther and farther away. And now we no longer have territories in which we have everything we need around us; in which we can go from one side to the other. Everything has its owner. Now there are other communities—Shuar communities and Kichwa communities—which were ours before. This is a reduction of our territory. Right now we're enclosed and circumscribed by different pacts. There is one pact with the oil company; the African palm company [harvesting hearts of palm]; the colonists; even other indigenous people who have migrated here from their ancestral homes in other provinces.
What has really damaged us is the pollution in the rivers. This is really the worst part, along with the contamination in the air and the earth itself on which we cultivate our plants and our food. These are the terrible effects that have been visited upon us.
Although we talk about remediation, I think it will be difficult to repair what has been damaged. I think perhaps we will never be able to, because even though we might repair the natural environment, modern society is here among us—on our doorstep—and we will never be able to repair that.
We have seen many new sicknesses that we didn't see in our people before. We the Secoyas knew how to cure ourselves when those sicknesses were natural sicknesses. But now, with these unknown diseases, not even the best healer among us knows how to cure them. I think if we don't now have people who really know how to cure those previously unknown diseases, if we don't resolve this case against Texaco, then the very few Secoyas that remain—about 400 of us—will lose our culture and we may be finished off by sickness or disease. Or for other reasons we will disappear bit by bit. This is what I can tell you about the impact of the oil industry on the Secoya people.
Yes there is a hope for us, in the way that we have been organizing around Texaco because the Sionas, Secoyas, and Cofanes, we are the ones who have lived here in Sucumbios. We are the original owners of these territories and we have seen all of the damage that has been done here. So we organized through some friendly organizations—they came and told us about human rights—before we knew nothing about human rights. And through friends and allies the Sionas, Secoyas, Cofanes, and Kichwas started to organize in order to bring justice to this case.
We, as one part of the affected people, believe that since we have already waited 10 years [while the case languished in the United States courts]; we could wait and continue another 10 years if necessary. This is our priority. People are saying: "If we don't get this resolved, what are we doing? If we can't drink the water from our traditional sources—then what?"
So we are newly united since the case has been presented in a court here, and now we are just waiting for the judge's decisions. We are assisted by Oxfam America and other people. We feel we are engaging in common work to ensure a future for the people who are in danger of disappearing.
We can't waste time being sorry about what has happened. We have to be able to defend and exercise the same rights as Spanish-speaking mestizo people do in our own territory.
]]>I don't anticipate a lot of difficulties in the judicial inspections phase, except for the financing of the inspections. The evidence provided by the judicial inspections is the fundamental basis for the case. The evidence must be supported scientifically, and this is expensive. If there?s not enough money to carry out these tests, I anticipate serious problems, and we run the risk of losing the case.
With the legal process itself, I don't foresee difficulties because the laws determine the process that should be followed, and the Judge will make a decision based on what the law says. He needs to determine his decision according to the law.
As for the final sentence: I will reserve judgments about what I think might happen. Unfortunately our courts have weaknesses, and there are many examples of corruption and political influence and political pressures on the legal system. For example, at our conference today we just heard the delegate from Ecuador's Ministry of Foreign Commerce say that the US government asked for the Texaco case to be dropped as a condition for negotiating a free trade agreement. Although the government has publicly said they do not accept this position, we are certain that pressure will be applied to the judge to decide in favor of Texaco. And that is very dangerous because for me what is at stake is the dignity of the Ecuadorian Amazon and the dignity of the justice system.
The only thing that I hope for in the Texaco case is that justice can be done. Those of us who live here have a great opportunity to demonstrate to the rest of the country that we are men and women with rights equal to those of others.
Since I was very small, I was always searching for justice. When I was 14, and my parents migrated from Esmeraldas, where we lived before, here to Sucumbios, I worked in an African palm plantation company for four years. Afterwards I worked for an oil company, also for four years, and in both places I saw great injustices with the workers and the campesinos. I also saw grave destruction of the environment. I shared these concerns with others, and so about six young people (I was just 17 at the time) agreed, we said "we must do something about these problems." Some were colleagues from work, some were friends from school, and others were from a church youth group. So when we got together and started to take actions with protests and complaints or simply pointing out problems and suggesting solutions, I got into trouble. That was the reason they fired me from the African palm plantation company. Then the oil company threw me out for defending the rights of other workers.
And so from this experience came my dream, my idea, to become a professional. A lawyer. To defend those like myself and others who would be denied their rights, especially for rural people.
Fortunately the church supported me for about 12 years. When I was left without work in the companies, the church gave me work so that I could continue with my studies and social service. I worked with the church until about one year ago when I was hired by the Amazon Defense Front.
The first obstacle and the most important one was the economic obstacle. My parents provided education for me until [eighth grade]. From there on I had to do it on my own—to study and to work. So I worked during the day and studied at night. And when I entered the university, the church helped me by providing more than half of the tuition. That was not easy for them. And it was very difficult for me as I simply didn't have the money. Out of 10 brothers and sisters, I am the only one who finished high school, because of a lack of resources.
The group of friends that I mentioned before also helped me. And I also took other jobs. I worked for the radio doing the news, and as a professor in a distance learning program. I had to study from four until seven in the morning. Then I had to go to work until six at night. The time I had free for lunch midday I dedicated to doing news on the radio. At night I taught high school classes, so my work day was from four in the morning until 11 or 12 at night. That was how I got to this point.
]]>Climate change has huge implications for security and terrorism, for diplomatic distortions, for the viability of the global economy—and ultimately for equity. It also contains enormous opportunities for developing countries. In this issue of Exchange, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Ross Gelbspan writes about the impacts of climate change on the world's most vulnerable people.
Also in this issue, Oxfam America's Fast for a World Harvest turns 30; we revisit communities in Central America devastated by Hurricane Mitch five years ago; and shed light on the struggles of Peru's indigenous Quechua people.
]]>Amid cheers from a throng of enthusiastic supporters and international media, Make Trade Fair won the day.
Oxfam's trade campaign was launched.
Within hours of the Hong Kong debut, events were held in 25 cities including Brussels, Dublin, Geneva, Mexico City, San Salvador, and Washington, D.C. These events ranged from press conferences and symposiums to a rock concert in London’s Trafalgar Square.
Oxfam's trade campaign seeks to unite concerned citizens around the world in calling for fair trade policies that will help move millions of people out of poverty.
Nobel Prize Professor Amartya Sen, UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan, and musician and social activist Bono were among those who endorsed the campaign. "Oxfam has got it right," said Bono. "It wouldn't cost much to change the rules of trade so that poor countries can work their way out of poverty. But the world's leaders won't act unless they hear enough people telling them."
Also in this issue of EXCHANGE, writers Frances and Anna Lappé discuss their book Hope's Edge: The Next Diet for a Small Planet, and we bring you updates on Oxfam's work with water and sanitation, drought in Ethiopia, and indigenous women in the highlands of Peru who are speaking out after decades of violence.
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