Oxfam's work—whether helping Guatemalan women organize to fight gender violence, funding irrigation projects in Ethiopia, or standing with people in Darfur—is about building the resilience of local communities over the long haul. We cannot prevent shocks, but we can help our sisters and brothers access some of the same resources we have to cushion us when times are lean.
We cannot rush from crisis to crisis with short-term fixes. What more evidence do we need than what is happening in East Africa now? This is not the region's first famine, but imagine the headline: Africa's last famine.
"I'm not famous," said the slogan on his T-shirt.
And that's probably why you haven't heard very much about Milongo's problem'or the problem of countless Congolese women caught in a war that has used their bodies as a battlefield. Rape has ruined their lives. And now, it's creeping into their villages, too, corroding what's left of community life after so many years of conflict.
But since it's happening in a place that's far away, in villages whose names we can hardly pronounce, we don't pay attention. We should—because it's a horror that stalks us, too. About 132,000 women a year in the United States report they are victims of rape, or attempted rape, says the National Organization for Women. That's one of the reasons Congress passed the Violence Against Women Act in 1994—to combat sexual assault.
Now, there's a new protection bill set for debate in Washington. This one would take the first steps toward guarding the safety of women everywhere—even in countries where governments are not up to the task. Proposed by US Senators Joseph R. Biden and Richard Lugar, the International Violence Against Women Act would require the development of a five-year strategy—supported by a $175 million annual investment—to support programs targeting violence against women. Among them would be public awareness campaigns and a strengthening of criminal and civil justice systems.
Additionally, through increased training for aid workers and expanded reporting requirements, the bill would tackle the violence women and girls suffer during humanitarian crises and conflict—times when women are particularly vulnerable. Nowhere is this more evident than in the Democratic Republic of Congo. John Holmes, the United Nations under secretary for humanitarian affairs, told a reporter last October that the sexual violence in Congo is the worst in the world.
But what makes these attacks even more insidious is the consequence of speaking out about them: There is danger in challenging Congo's culture of impunity. Justine Masika lives with it daily—behind the barbed wire wall erected around her house to keep her safe. She is the head of a Goma-based group that has helped more than 7,000 women who have suffered from sexual violence. Last year, soldiers punished her for her truth-telling and advocacy. They invaded her house and attacked her daughters.
But Masika is not alone. Others, like Lamia Milongo, are fighting back, too. When the soldier abducted his 12-year-old daughter to claim her as his "wife," Milongo put his own safety aside and went in pursuit. He rescued her and returned her home unharmed. But the daughter of his neighbor was not so lucky. Her rescue came too late. Now, at 15, she is pregnant, shamed, and facing a life of hardship and poverty since in Congolese culture women who have been raped are often cast off by their communities.
Sexual violence is a plague the world should be rid of. Mothers like Masika need our help. So do fathers like Milongo. We took an important step here in the US in 1994. Now it's time to take the next one—into our global community—with passage of the International Violence Against Women Act.
]]>But it wasn't until an 80-year-old woman from Walikale in North Kivu was brought to Masika that the full weight of what was happening became clear, galvanizing her resolve. In the war that was sweeping the region, rape was being used as a weapon not only to degrade women, but to humiliate their husbands and whole communities, too. Masika realized the women and girls of eastern Congo needed organized, pro-active help—and Synergie des femmes pour les Victimes de Violences Sexuelles was born.
Its mission, says Masika, its director, is threefold: to raise awareness about sexual violence toward women, to take care of those who have been sexually abused, and to push for the perpetrators to be brought to justice. Since 2003, the organization, an Oxfam partner, has worked with 7,018 women—women like the one from Walikale, who so desperately needed help and for whom there was none available. Raped and left dumped in a field, she was rescued by a hunter and eventually brought to Goma, the capital of North Kivu. But she was penniless, and despite her serious injuries, the hospital would not treat her. And there she died.
Hers is just one of too many stories of sexual abuse and abandonment—of violence that is still rippling through the remote hills of the eastern provinces, that continues to torture its victims with shame, and that now, in a newer twist, has begun to corrode the core of traditional communities, too.
In a small mudbrick building propped on the edge of a dirt road in Kilungutwe, a crowd of villagers has gathered. It's dark and sweltering inside, but every inch of every bench is taken, and more people crowd at the door and window. They have come to discuss the troubles in their village—the extortion they face at the hands of soldiers, the difficulty they have in getting enough to eat—and now the talk has turned to sexual violence.
With anger still in his voice, Elisha Ezigobe, one of the local chiefs, describes the abduction of his 12-year-old daughter. A soldier took her for his wife—without Ezigobe's consent. As soon as he learned what had happened, he headed for the soldier's camp, dismissing any concern about the repercussions he might face in confronting armed men. He was determined to rescue his daughter.
"I took my girl and left," Ezigobe said through an interpreter. "I had my machete. I was going to fight back." His outrage scared the soldier off, and Ezigobe returned his daughter—unharmed—to their home.
But the man sitting next to Ezigobe was not so lucky. His daughter, too, was taken by a soldier. A night passed before he was able to find her and bring her home. Now, at 15, she is pregnant.
There are many stories like this, says Ezigobe, and some fathers are afraid to stand up to the soldiers.
But it's not just military men who are the perpetrators, say others in the roadside hut. Community members have turned into culprits, too—with few serious consequences for their crimes. If the abused girl is 17 or 18, the solution is often to have her marry the rapist. If she's younger, the local chief could order the man to make some kind of reparation—such as a goat—to the girl and her family.
Why is all of this happening now?
"They're asking themselves that question," says Jacqueline Tshilemba, a community educator for APIDE, one of Oxfam's local partners that is working with the people of Kilungutwe. "What they can see is this culture has happened since the war. It happens all over the place and no one gets punished."
At the root of the problem, says Josee Lotsove, is a society that views women as inferior. Lotsove is the coordinator for a local women-based organization called Association des Mamans Anti-Bwaki, or AMAB, an Oxfam partner headquartered in Bunia. Along with those traditional attitudes about women, she says, is the Congo's weak judicial system, which often fails to hold offenders accountable.
When perpetrators are arrested, adds Marie Kanyobayo, it's possible for them to pay a little money to the authorities and buy their freedom. Kanyobayo is the head of another women-based organization called Union des Femmes pour le Developpement, also an Oxfam partner.
It's at this foundation of impunity that Masika, the head of Synergie, is chipping away. Part of Synergie's work involves educating village chiefs and other local opinion leaders—teachers, pastors—about the nature of what has been happening to women, about the catastrophe that it has become, and about the importance of villagers accepting survivors back into the community fold.
But the work comes with great risk.
For speaking out about a problem that has devastated the lives of so many women, Masika and her family have themselves become targets. Last September, six military men came to her house in the early evening and tortured her two daughters, 22 and 20. Masika has since sent them to live in Nairobi, and an aid organization has paid to surround her house with barbed wire to protect her.
Masika admits that sometimes the challenges are so daunting that she's not sure she can continue with her advocacy. But she knows that her voice—and the voices of all the volunteers who work for Synergie—are essential in helping to protect the rights of women who cannot, or dare not, speak out for themselves.
In the Congo, the consequences of rape are far-reaching and affect whole families. Rape heaps shame upon its victims. Women often find themselves cast off by their husbands, and forced into complete self-dependence. Young girls who have been raped lose their chance for marriage and for having a family of their own—and the position of honor that being a mother brings.
At a medical center in Goma where Synergie carries out some of its work, women who are recovering from sexual abuse confront its ugly legacy: possible HIV infection and lives of hardship, including the need to find ways to support themselves. Here, they are learning to weave baskets from long strips of plastic, a skill that will help them earn a living when they are well enough to return to their villages.
But for some, the psychological wounds are so deep they don't want to leave the security and support in which Synergie has wrapped them. For others, the road home is crowded with obstacles that may prove insurmountable. One 36-year-old woman tells of in-laws who are trying to turn her children against her, accusing her of being promiscuous after she was abducted and held as a sex slave and later, in a second round of horror, raped and left pregnant by a government soldier.
For Amina, a volunteer who has been working with Synergie since its founding, the stories she hears from women and girls who have been abused weigh heavily on her. Many of them have become her friends, and she knows that Congolese culture will dictate the future they face—likely one of great difficulty.
Given how sweeping the problem of rape and sexual violence now is, might that culture become more understanding, and even forgiving?
Amina sits quietly for a moment before she replies. A weariness seems to frame her answer. Women are speaking out more, she says. In the past, they kept silent. But as for real change, she can't say when that will come.
]]>"He insulted us and beat me up," she says, tears welling up with the memory. Ortiz recounts the ordeal in her dirt-floor house in the department of Ahuachapan, sitting on a simple wood chair, holding her four-year-old daughter Melissa—her youngest. "One of my children said to me, 'Mama, let's get out of here,' so we went outside."
That spring night, outside their blue concrete house, the threats continued. "He insulted me so much... saying I was worthless, I had no future, and that it was better for him to kill me and the children."
Ortiz had to take action because her husband was a police officer and had a firearm. The family took shelter at a neighbor's house, and Ortiz called the police. Her husband was arrested the next morning. She and her children were safe for the moment, but in his drunken rage he had burned all their clothes.
The hills in Ahuachapan are bright green after a rainy summer. Blue and yellow butterflies fly lazily among the coffee trees along the dirt roads, and the sun is warm and comforting. It looks peaceful, making the violent confrontation Ortiz describes seem out of place. But in this small country of six million, widespread violence tends to be particularly deadly for women.
El Salvador is still recovering from a 13-year civil war that saw 75,000 people killed and nearly 8,000 "disappeared." It is a politically polarized society, torn between a small business elite, which dominates commerce and the government, and the majority struggling in poverty. Socially, men are dominant: It is a machista culture that holds many women in submissive roles in the family, raising children and doing other work in the home. Roughly half of Salvadorans live in poverty, and women head about 25 percent of households, so the abuse of and discrimination against women contributes directly to keeping them poor and in their subservient role in society.
There is a paucity of data on violence against women in El Salvador, but what few details are available tell a brutal story: In a country about the geographic size of Massachusetts, the rate of "femicide" in El Salvador was 11.15 per 100,000 women in 2005, far exceeding Guatemala's rate (population nearly 13 million) of 7.96 for that same year, according to a 2006 report by the Inter-American Institute of Human Rights. The same report shows the numbers of women murdered in El Salvador inching up slowly from 2001, when there were 211 women killed, to 260 in 2004, before jumping to 390 in 2005. The 2006 total was 437, according to Yanira Argueta, director of the Association of Salvadoran Women. "The situation is critical," she says at a meeting in her office in San Salvador. "Public officials are not sensitive to the problem, and there is no good application of the laws."
Part of the problem is public perception. A 2006 poll by CS Sondeo found that only about 83 percent of people in El Salvador believe that rape is a crime—which means that more than 15 percent don't consider it a criminal act.
Whether rape, murder, assault, or even psychological abuse, violence against women is more than an injustice or a human rights violation: it is an investment in the social status quo that keeps men on top and women below them. And it prevents women from fully contributing to the two changes El Salvador desperately needs: an end to poverty and the building of democracy.
]]>Molina de Vasquez worked hard to get the group established because she wants women to have opportunities to work outside their homes so they can broaden their horizons. "So many women are mistreated by their husbands," she says. "They need to know about their rights and feel capable of doing things."
"I would like to get women to know about their rights and duties, and to increase their self-esteem. We can help ourselves and our families, care for our children, and earn income to change our lives."
When asked why helping other women is so important to her, she says, "Let me tell you a little about my own life; then you will know."
The details come spilling out; she's like someone who walks away from a serious car accident, describing how lucky she is just to be alive. Mistreated by her father, her mother abused, Molina de Vasquez was married at 14 to a soldier. "I thought it was a way to escape," she says, "but my life got worse." Her husband was violent, and his family "used to tell me that my job was to have children and take care of my husband." When she failed to deliver a child for the first three years of their marriage, "I was useless to them," Molina de Vasquez says with a sigh.
But others could see that she was a leader. When their first child went to kindergarten, she was chosen to be the president of the parents' board at the school. "When I told my husband, he was angry. He told me I was not capable of it. I accepted this; he always told me I was good for nothing. For 11 years it was like that."
Eventually they moved to a rural area and things started to improve. Her husband became an agricultural laborer. They had a son. But Molina de Vasquez wanted to do more activities outside their home, like joining a health training program. Although reluctant to allow her to participate, her husband said she could host training sessions at their home. As part of this training, one of Oxfam's partners, AGROSAL, taught the women about their rights and how to prevent domestic violence. It was part of the Vida Diferente campaign to prevent gender violence.
"I started to listen to talks about preventing violence in the home," Molina de Vasquez says. "I learned about my rights." Since her husband allowed her to hold the meetings at their house, Molina de Vasquez took a risk: "I invited him to the talks and training sessions, and he became more sensitive." Together, she and her husband questioned the gender roles and attitudes in the machista culture in El Salvador, and they recreated their relationship. "Now my husband and I solve problems through dialogue, not violence," Molina de Vasquez says. He now recognizes how important it is for her to use her leadership skills. "If someone asks me to do something, I will do it because I know my husband will not say no."
Molina de Vasquez is committed to the new women's organization: "First I would like to get women to know about their rights and duties, and to increase their self-esteem." She says there are practical reasons for this, which leads to the second goal: "We need jobs for all the women. We can help ourselves and our families, care for our children, and earn income to change our lives." For Molina de Vasquez, respect for women and fighting poverty are part of the same struggle.
The changes in Molina de Vasquez's family are hard to compare to the earlier, oppressive days. "I have overcome it—so why can't I help other women? That is my goal: to help many other women."
]]>One of the goals of the campaign is to increase the number of women who understand their rights and can effectively defend them as Adelina Ortiz did. To help educate the next generation, the campaign developed a program for teachers and schoolchildren in 2007 that teaches young people about how to prevent gender violence and what to do if they are attacked.
"We used to talk about gender equity here," says Patricia Jovel. "But never gender violence." Jovel is the director of a school participating in this new initiative in El Progreso, a village perched on the impossibly steep Quetzaltepeque volcano outside San Salvador. The school, where 850 students from 6 to 16 years old attend classes in two half-day groups, is a collection of six cinderblock classrooms topped by metal sheet roofing on either side of a terraced concrete courtyard sloping down the mountainside. It is a beehive of activity after classes, as without any level area for a playground, the students play tag around the central courtyard in the brisk mountain air. Jovel says the young women who sometimes have to walk home in the dark after school are now better equipped to fend off the young men offering drinks and cigarettes to them. "Thank God there have been no rapes," she says.
The students have learned their lessons well: Karla Sanchez, 15, says it is a matter of her basic rights. "Everyone must respect our rights as children, girls, youth. We all have the same rights, and no one can violate them. And if something should happen, we know we can tell our parents, our teachers, or adults we trust. They are here to help us," she explains patiently. And if these people can't help, she knows where to go. She lists a number of institutions where she can turn for protection: the Human Rights Office; the National Police; and the Salvadoran Institute for the Advancement of Women, known as ISDEMU. As she leaves, Sanchez articulates one essential idea about reporting gender violence: "We should not be afraid of what people say."
In 2007, this pilot project in 53 schools exposed 25,000 students to the key messages of the campaign and trained 1,000 students and 1,000 teachers. The teachers now have incorporated violence prevention into their curriculum, and they work with the trained students. The pilot was supported by the Ministry of Education and was such a success that the minister decided to incorporate it into the public school curriculum nationwide.
Sustained pressure to change societal attitudes toward women is a slow process. One effective way to question long-held ideas and beliefs is to educate those entrusted with defending the rights of women, protecting them in the community, and helping them if they are attacked or injured. These include public officials like police officers, judges, public health officials and doctors, and social workers. The campaign organized a formal training program at the University of Central America (UCA) in 2005, and 45 people attended.
Maritza de Vasquez, a psychologist at the family court in the city of San Marcos, just outside San Salvador, says this training has helped her assist the many women who come through her office. De Vasquez says that women are hearing the messages of the campaign and are taking action to protect themselves. In the steady stream of domestic violence and divorce cases she sees, there is a different attitude. "Women take the opportunity to come here and talk about their situation they come here right away to denounce it," she says. "They are expressing their rights more openly now."
Back in Ahuachapan, Ortiz grows corn and raises sheep to support her children and grandchildren. He husband is in jail awaiting a hearing. "I'd rather see him in prison than anywhere else," Ortiz says. It was her participation in a sheep-raising program run by one of Oxfam America's partners, Association of Salvadoran Agriculturalists (AGROSAL), that exposed Ortiz to the human rights training that helped her defend her own life and protect her children. She points out that in all her training to become a health worker, no one ever educated her about domestic violence or how to prevent it. "The training taught me that women have rights and people are obligated to respect them," Ortiz says. "This made me act, to look for help, and thank God I found it."
]]>So, three times a week, and sometimes more, women from the Abu Shouk and Al Salaam camps head out on four-hour treks to scavenge for fuel. If they don't come upon any trees, the women resort to clawing through the hard-packed earth to reach bits of root that they can burn instead.
But hard work is only part of their problem. Looming larger for these women is the constant threat to their safety: By venturing even a short distance outside of the camps they could face harassment, sexual assault, or even death. Since early 2003, conflict has wracked this region, forcing more than 2 million people from their homes. Many of them have sought shelter in camps like Abu Shouk and Al Salaam. But the demands of daily living—the need for wood, for jobs, for food—often require them to leave the safety of those camps.
Now, Oxfam America, together with the Sudanese Agency for Environment and Development Service (SAEDS), has launched a $132,000 program that will help thousands of displaced women stay safer in this volatile place. The agency is providing 4, 200 households with fuel-efficient stoves that, in many cases, will completely remove the need for women to hunt for wood. Two thousand of the stoves are kerosene-fueled; another 2,000 are efficient wood-burning stoves; and 200 of them use gas. The project will benefit about 25,200 people.
Women were excited about getting the stoves, said Sahar Ali, an Oxfam America program officer, who paid a monitoring visit to Abu Shouk in late January.
"Traditionally, the provision of firewood and fuel for cooking has been the responsibility of women," said Ali, in a report she filed after the visit. "There are few other sources of cooking fuel available to them."
But with the introduction of kerosene and gas, they now have other options. And the small round stoves that burn wood efficiently—as opposed to open fires—means women will need to make fewer of the dangerous scavenging trips.
Still, convincing women that gas is a smart way to cook has taken some doing, said Ali. They worried about its hazards.
"This is the first time for them using gas, and most of the houses are made from wood," said Ali. "If it burns, it burns all the camp. They said we prefer kerosene—not the gas."
The hesitancy about gas notwithstanding, the new stoves are bringing another important benefit to the region, too: some relief for the environment.
"North Darfur is mostly desert, and the few trees that provided a nearby source of cooking fuel when the camps were first created more than two years ago are all gone," said Ali in her report.
It's a trend that Ibrahim Suliman, a program coordinator for SAEDS, has watched for the past four decades as it's crept across the region.
"When I was a child, most of Darfur was covered in forest—even North Darfur," said Suliman, a native of Dar el Salaam, a small village about 30 miles south of El Fasher. But in the last 30 years, those trees and grasses have given way to desert. Why?
"Because of overgrazing," said Suliman. "Because there is no planning for animal breeding. And the firewood for cooking. And for houses—people build their houses from wood. And charcoal traders."
But with the introduction of the stoves, some of that degradation can be slowed since less wood will be needed for cooking. Suliman has even convinced his mother to switch to kerosene.
"She's very happy. It's clean," he said.
SAEDS is taking its concern for the environment a step further: It has launched a replanting project in Dar es Salaam and plans to begin a similar effort around the camps.
"Our philosophy is to restock the forest and all these things will be improved," said Suliman. "If we try to stop cutting trees and every year we try to plant many new trees, within four to five years we will be able to restock a big amount of trees. And we'll be able to at least make the environment more attractive than before and people can find grasses for their animals and be able to cultivate again. It might take a long time, but we have to start."
In Dar el Salaam, thanks to SAEDS, about 4,500 new saplings are now growing.
"In five to 10 years, I'm sure it will be green," said Suliman.
Near El Fasher, trees might also grow again. Oxfam's project with SAEDS calls for the planting of 10,000 seedlings around the camps. Families who have recently received the fuel-efficient stoves will be mobilized to do the planting.
]]>Although 83.3 percent of the population considers rape to be a crime, 16.7 percent still denies it. This is an alarmingly high percentage which is then reflected in the high rate of rapes. In its 2005 report on crimes (through November), the Attorney General's office reported 2,296 registered cases of rape, sexual aggression and statutory rape. 40.2 percent of the people polled affirm that the place where these types of crimes most often take place is within the home—a place believed to be among the safest for women, boys and girls—and that the person who most often commits the crime is the step father (58.3 percent).
If the previous information sounds alarming, the panorama gets even worse. Seventy percent of those polled believe that the National Civilian Police (PNC) shows little interest in the rape cases that are presented to them, and 20 percent think the PNC could care less. At the same time, the PNC is one of the agencies where people most often go to denounce an act of violence. This was shown by another study done by the Human Rights Ombudswoman's office, which was also supported by Oxfam America.
This study, in addition to asking about the treatment that women receive in the different institutions of the State, also investigated the situation of gender violence within these very institutions. As well as a high rate of sexual harassment, there is a high degree of discrimination in the way women are treated and in opportunities that exist for them. Furthermore, the study reveals salary inequality between men and women. It highlights that although most of the women have a university degree, they usually don't denounce sexual harassment for fear of losing their job or other acts of revenge. Harassers operate with an alarming degree of impunity. In only 3 percent of the cases where harassment was denounced were the perpetrators fired or transferred.
The Human Rights Ombudswoman's Office convened many public functionaries from the aforementioned offices in order to share the results and said they would follow up.
]]>Women who are beaten by a husband or partner, or are emotionally or financially dominated, are much more likely to be infected than those living in a non-violent household. Abused women have limited abilities to negotiate their sexual activity or safe sex practices, and are vulnerable to even more abuse if they are the first to learn of their infection status and have to tell their partners.
Any effort to bring down HIV infection rates also needs to reduce violence against women—and women need to take the lead in pushing governments to deal with the problem. However there is little pressure to provide better protection for women. Social norms in southern Africa (and many other parts of the world), discourage women from speaking out about such "private matters."
In southern Africa, this silence is proving deadly. "Organizations of people affected by AIDS are weak," said Mark Heywood, head of the AIDS Law Project at the University of Witwatersrand in South Africa. "Women are centrally affected, but the response is limited to services to orphans and other areas," he said.
The gender violence situation is particularly serious in South Africa, a country of 47 million people where more than 5 million are living with HIV and AIDS. A woman is raped every 26 minutes, and a woman is killed every six hours. More than three quarters of young South Africans living with HIV are females, and more than one quarter say their first sexual experience was unwanted, says a report by the Medical Research Council in South Africa.
Since the end of apartheid, some new and progressive laws have been passed to reduce violence against women, such as the 1998 Domestic Violence Act. But that law is not being enforced, and there is no strong effort to force society to address the problem and to empower women to speak out about gender violence. This would help move the problem out from the shadows of their private lives and into the public realm, where the government must acknowledge violence against women for what it is: a serious human rights issue with significant social and economic implications for fighting poverty.
As a first step in helping organize the critical mass needed to oppose gender violence in South Africa and across the region, Oxfam America is funding the Johannesburg-based People Opposed to Women's Abuse (POWA) organization's work to document all the groups providing services to abused women, as well as those engaged in advocacy and public information campaigns on women's rights.
All across South Africa, small, community-based organizations help women victims of domestic violence. They provide safe housing, counseling, legal and medical assistance, and other services. But there is no strong, political effort to deal with violence against women. Women's organizations are not linked to speak with one voice about the problems of domestic violence and push for legal reforms and changes in policies and traditions that will protect women. This means they are treating the symptoms, but not the root causes of the problem.
"We need to maintain the service delivery, but we feel we need to stop reacting and help these community-based organizations speak out as well," explained Delphine Serumaga, Director of POWA. "We need to push from underneath."
Oxfam partners in southern Africa are also participating in the global "16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence." The Center for Global Women's Leadership at Rutgers University in New Jersey is organizing the campaign, which starts on November 25th, the International Day Against Violence Against Women, and ends on December 10th, International Human Rights Day. The campaign also coincides with International AIDS Day in December 1st. This year's theme for the 16 Days campaign is "For the Health of Women, for the Health of the World." It is designed to highlight the connections between violence against women and the HIV/AIDS pandemic, as well as the unmet commitments made by governments to deal with the HIV/AIDS crisis.
South Africa: POWA is working with Amnesty International South Africa to host an international "cyber-dialogue" on the subject of trafficking of women and violence against refugee women in southern Africa. This public information campaign is building on a Listserv set up by the 16 Days campaign to promote dialogue and organizing around violence against women. POWA hopes the electronic discussion will help activists in all the Southern Africa Development Community (SADC) countries build joint efforts to combat violence against women, another goal of Oxfam America's HIV/AIDS program in the region.
Interested participants in the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence cyber-dialogue in southern Africa can visit www.genderlinks.org.za
Zimbabwe: The Women's Action Group (WAG), an Oxfam America partner since 2000 and a member of a coalition promoting new domestic violence legislation in Zimbabwe, is leading a campaign to educate women about their rights and HIV/AIDS. WAG is participating in a number of events marking the 16 Days campaign around the country. First will be the national launch of the campaign by the Zimbabwe Ministry of Women's Affairs, followed by events to raise awareness of child abuse, HIV and AIDS, and domestic violence in Macheke, where there have been recent reports of abuse at a primary school. WAG will also be working with the National AIDS Council to commemorate International AIDS Day on December 1st in Chiramanzu, and will then host a series of discussions on cultural practices that increase women's vulnerability to HIV/AIDS from December 2nd through the 9th in Marondera.
]]>His words were spoken at a gathering to mark the beginning of a new collaboration to expand efforts to improve the situation of women's rights as a precondition to overcome the deadly HIV/AIDS epidemic ravaging the sub-region. Oxfam America's Southern Africa program kicked off the new program area with a convening of key organizations in the region culminating in the press event on Constitution Hill.
The HIV/AIDS crisis is the most significant obstacle to development in southern Africa. Recent studies by UNAIDS and a special task force appointed by the UN Secretary General studying women, girls, and HIV/AIDS in southern Africa show some staggering statistics: 30 percent of the world's people living with HIV/AIDS (about 11.4 million) are in nine countries that contain only two percent of the entire earth's population. Women and girls are sharing a disproportionate burden of infection and death from the insidious disease. The task force study estimates that three quarters of the young people 15 to 24 years old in Zimbabwe, South Africa, and Zambia that are currently living with HIV/AIDS are young girls and women.
These reports acknowledge one key reason women and girls are so vulnerable: their legal rights are not respected. Unequal laws on divorce and inheritance, as well as weak domestic violence legislation are leaving women vulnerable to abuse and poverty in an insecure environment. In some cases, women are considered legal minors, and are not allowed to make important decisions about their own lives, even if their husbands die.
Infected women, and those simply affected by the crisis, are missing out on employment and education opportunities as they fall ill or have to care for sick family members. Societal tolerance of sexual violence and harmful traditions frequently prevent women from controlling their sexual activity and discourage legal recourse in abuse cases.
Beyond wasting the potential of women in southern Africa, the resulting social dislocation, heavy health care and burial costs, and shortened life spans from the HIV/AIDS epidemic threaten the future for an entire generation. "We have crossed the threshold between the potential impact on women's development," said Mark Heywood, Director of the Aids Law Project of South Africa, speaking at a two-day conference sponsored by Oxfam America. "We are clearly experiencing the epidemic's impact on women's rights, which is a crucial aspect of what HIV/AIDS is doing to society."
Oxfam America has concentrated resources in the area of legal reform in Zimbabwe and Mozambique over the last eight years. Grant funds have supported research, advocacy, and popular campaigns designed to improve the legal framework to support women's rights in family laws, land ownership, domestic violence, and other key areas that directly affect women's welfare and livelihoods.
The new program area titled "HIV/AIDS Policy, Law and Women's Rights Partnership Program" builds off of the legal reform work in ways designed to help reduce the vulnerability of women to the disease, and eventually eradicate it. "Oxfam America must have a strong HIV/AIDS program in southern Africa,"" explained Regional Director Julio de Sousa. "In concentrating on these essential human rights issues, we will further women's rights and contribute to the fight against the epidemic."
Staff in Oxfam America's office in southern Africa consulted with a wide range of organizations with expertise in the areas of women's rights and the HIV/AIDS crisis. Together they developed a program that will include grants to organizations working on strengthening laws and policies designed to promote respect for women's rights, and challenging the social norms and values that condone violence against women and girls and contribute to their lower social status. Of equal importance will be looking at ways to improve the social support services essential for assisting women, including law enforcement, access to health care, and counseling.
The expanded program focus is building on fruitful collaborations with women's rights coalitions in Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and constructing similar partnerships in South Africa and Namibia.
At the press event in Johannesburg, Justice Van Westhuizen challenged Oxfam America and its partners in this new program area to think big, to even dream. "We must be able to dream—because without dreams we will not exist." As one of the framers of South Africa's constitution, considered one of the world's most progressive, he was well aware of the power of a dream, as South Africa enters its 10th year under majority rule.
Equality for women and a stronger southern African society free of HIV/AIDS is still in the future, but the ideas are coming into place to make it a reality. As South Africa has shown, a dream is just the start of big things.
]]>The domestic violence bill is an attempt to thrust domestic violence out from behind closed doors and into the public realm, a difficult task in Zimbabwe and other African countries where many people do not consider women equal to men, and view abuse of women in the household to be a private matter. According to the Zimbabwe Women Lawyers Association (ZWLA), one of every four women in the country suffers some form of abuse in her lifetime, and sixty percent of murder cases are related to domestic violence.
Some notable and progressive features of the proposed domestic violence bill:
The Women's Coalition includes three Oxfam America partners: the Zimbabwe Women Lawyers Association, the Women in Politics Support Unit (WiPSU), and the Musasa Project. In previous years Oxfam America also funded the work of three other coalition members, the Association of Women's Clubs, Zimbabwe Adult Learners Association, and the Federation of African Media Women's Association.
If the bill is signed as expected it will conclude nearly six years of work. The Coalition's first efforts in 1999 were to educate women about a proposed constitution to replace one negotiated at the end of the liberation war in 1982. Critics of the draft constitution said it discriminated against women based on customary law. The Women's Coalition led a public education campaign that contributed to a defeat of the proposed constitution in a referendum in 2000.
The Women's Coalition then turned its attention to legislation to help improve the situation of women in Zimbabwe, and began researching and actually drafting a new domestic violence bill. It was first proposed to the Minister of Justice in 2001. In 2004 the Women's Coalition submitted a petition to the Minister with 10,000 signatures. In 2005 the effort gained momentum as Joyce Mujuru was named vice president, and the government established a new Ministry of Women's Affairs, and appointed another woman, Oppha Muchinguri, to this highly placed position. Both were supporters of the domestic violence bill.
The Women's Coalition did encounter some political resistance. First, it had to get approval from a special committee for legislature in the president's cabinet before the bill could be introduced to Parliament.
Emilia Muchawa, director of ZWLA, attended the cabinet committee meeting, and said that there were concerns about the articles that outlaw some traditional practices. "There were seven ministers, only one was a woman," she said. "They talked it over and one said, 'if this goes through, I would be arrested.' They could not look at it objectively. We asked them to separate their public role from their private life." Although the cabinet committee was not enthusiastic, Muchawa said they did feel a sense of responsibility. "They knew that they would have to step out of their personal life and answer for their constituency," she said.
After the cabinet approved the legislation in May of 2006, the Women's Coalition then had to find a way to promote the bill in Parliament, where only 24 of the 150 seats are held by women. The bill successfully passed in the House of Assembly in July. However in debates in the Senate in October, more resistance emerged as one member of Parliament, Timothy Mubhawu, said the bill would degrade the status of men and stated flatly, "Women are not equal to men."
Women's Coalition members protested the next day outside Parliament, and officials of Mubhawu's party, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), disavowed his statements and suspended him from party membership. The bill passed the Senate and is now awaiting the president's signature. "I am sure he has a positive interest in signing the bill," Muchawa said.
When it becomes law, Zimbabwe's domestic violence bill will be the latest in a series of important legislative reforms that are helping women claim and defend their rights in southern Africa. It follows two important laws in neighboring Mozambique: the 1997 Land Law, and the 2004 Family Law, both of which help women gain legal title to and inherit land, an essential asset for a secure livelihood in a country dependent on agriculture. The Family Law also established clear laws for divorce, rights for women to hold jobs, and a minimum age for marriage. Oxfam America funded leading members of a coalition of women's organizations in Mozambique that researched, proposed, and promoted these laws.
As in Mozambique, Oxfam America's partners working together in Zimbabwe played important roles in the development, drafting, and lobbying of the domestic violence bill. "Oxfam America was the first organization to invest in the Women's Coalition," Muchawa said, noting that having the Coalition in place helped the work on the domestic violence bill get started. "We had a structure around which we could coalesce on this issue," she said.
Having a variety of groups in the Coalition helped it in three important areas. The first was ensuring the legitimacy of the bill they proposed. "They took the bill out to the public, and made sure there was adequate consultation," said Margaret Samuriwo, Oxfam America's senior program officer in southern Africa. "They also educated women in Parliament, so they understood the bill and could support it. Women in both the ZANU-PF and MDC parties in Parliament worked together to garner enough support." Lastly, Oxfam support for research, which documented the extent of domestic violence in the country and its toll on women, also proved crucial in this advocacy campaign. Having the facts and figures at hand helped members of the Women's Coalition make their case in Parliament and in the media.
]]>In any society, developing or not, women are likely to be poorer, less educated, and less empowered than men. Oxfam recognizes women should be valued equally and enabled to reach their potential. What’s more, research has shown that when women earn income, they are more likely than men to spend it on family welfare. And when women are educated, they make decisions that benefit their families and influence their communities.
In the pages that follow, you'll read about how Oxfam is targeting the laws in Mozambique and the gender violence in El Salvador that severely disadvantage women. You'll also learn how Oxfam is equipping women to mediate peace in West Africa and to grow the income of their families. In every case, when it comes to empowering women, men are an equal part of the equation. Oxfam is striving to shape societies that not only permit women to be contributors, but societies that recognize that if they don't seize upon what women can offer, they are failing to leverage one of their most valuable assets.
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