Indigenous Communities in Brazil Protest Encroachment on Land Rights

The annual Free Land protest takes on a new sense of urgency under Bolsonaro’s far-right government.

Photo of the Brazilian flag by by Rafaela Biazi on Unsplash.

Last week, more than 4,000 indigenous people from over 300 tribes across Brazil gathered in Brasilia to set up camp in front of government buildings for three days of cultural celebrations and protest.

While the Free Land protest is an annual event, it has taken on a new significance this year under president Jair Bolsonaro and his far-right government’s encroachment on the rights of native people and their territories. Al Jazeera writes that according to The Articulation of the Indigenous People of Brazil (APIB), the central organizer of the gathering, this year the event occurs in a "very grave context".

Recently, Bolsonaro promised to stop the development of new indigenous reserves, and to revoke the protected status of established land reserves. Bolsonaro has even gone so far as to publicly question the need for indigenous reserves at all.

The Guardian writes that among the new far-right government’s projects is a movement to enable commercial farming and mining on indigenous reserves. One of the reserves targeted is the Yanomami territory, Brazil’s largest reserve which already experiences threats from illegal gold miners.

“We are defenders of the land, we are defenders of the Amazon, of the forest,” Alessandra Munduruku, one of the representatives of the Munduruku tribe told the Guardian. “The white man is [...] finishing off our planet and we want to defend it.”

Instead of directly handling the demarcation of Brazil’s indigenous reserves, the government has given the project to the agriculture ministry, a branch controlled by the farming lobby, a powerful organization which has been known to oppose indigenous land rights (Guardian). Joenia Wapichana, the first indigenous congresswoman in Brazil, told Al Jazeera that during her time in office she had become aware of just how deeply the government was to indigenous rights. “The government is completely anti-indigenous,” she said, “[Jair Bolsonaro] is only open to those who defend mining and land grabbing, which is his intention.”

After days of encampment outside government buildings, indigenous groups began their annual march last friday. Protestors wore body paint and feathered headdresses, while beating beating drums and holding bows and arrows (Reuters).

The Guardian writes that last week Bolsonaro’s justice minister Sérgio Moro, requested the presence of Brazil’s national guard at the event, foreshadowing possible clashes with protestors. While Moro said that the guard would be working to “secure the public order and the safety of people and patrimony,” the guard said in a statement to Al Jazeera that it would use force “if necessary” to protect the “safety of the patrimony of the Union and its servers.”

In response to growing concern, the APIB released a statement saying that “our camp has been happening peacefully for the past 15 years to give visibility to our daily struggles. [...] We are not violent, violence is attacking our sacred right to free protesting with armed forces.”

In a statement to Reuters, David Karai Popygua, a native person from the state of Sao Paulo, summed up what is at stake for protestors. “Our families are in danger, our children are under threat, our people are being attacked,” he said. “In the name of what they call economic progress they want to kill our people.”

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EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her.

Living With Albinism in Sub-Saharan Africa

In Malawi, Mozambique, Tanzania, and beyond, children and adults with this rare condition face widespread violence based on superstition—and fight for the right to live their lives free of persecution.

On the left, a baby with albinism. Kaysha. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

On January 1 of this year, unknown assailants climbed through the window of Kwenda Phiri’s home in Nhkata Bay, Malawi, and hacked him to death, chopping off his hands and fleeing with them. Their motive? Phiri had albinism, meaning that—due to a rare genetic condition—he was born without pigment in his skin, hair, or eyes. Unfortunately, Phiri’s killing was far from an isolated incident. Across sub-Saharan Africa, people with albinism face physical violence and persecution based on superstition, often leaving them unemployed, isolated, and fearful of even leaving their homes.

Kidnapping and dismemberment, such as in the case of Phiri, is common, as body parts from people with albinism can bring in up to $75,000 on the black market. Witchdoctors perpetuate myths about the magical qualities of people with albinism, and make outlandish claims that their body parts can be used in charms and potions to summon wealth, power, and good luck. Babies born with albinism may be considered a curse and slaughtered at birth, especially in certain regions: in Tanzania, where the condition affects up to 1 in 1400 citizens, people with albinism are called zeru zeru, meaning “ghosts,” and assumed to bleed a different color or be immortal. Such superstitions have fueled more than 520 recorded attacks in 28 countries since 2006; Tanzania had the highest number, at more than 170 incidents. Attackers and witchdoctors rarely face legal action, and not a single buyer in this gruesome segment of the black market has ever been prosecuted.

The Nkhata Bay, Malawi, area, near where Kwenda Phiri was killed. Matthew and Heather. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

For people with albinism who manage to escape fatal attacks, prospects for education and gainful employment are often dim. In Tanzania, only half of children with albinism complete primary school, and even fewer attend secondary. The condition typically affects vision, leaving children without access to glasses to struggle and underperform academically. Adults with albinism are met with few job opportunities, and often fall into poverty. Women with albinism suffer specific and especially dangerous injustices. Unfounded myths run rampant that sex with a women who has the condition can cure HIV/AIDS, leading to many women with albinism contracting AIDS through this heinous variety of ritual rape. Even after death, persecution persists: Many families whose relative with albinism has passed away do not hold the funeral in public, for fear that the grave might be dug up and the corpse stolen. This practice of quiet, unnoticed burial may also perpetuate superstitions regarding immortality.

Attacks are especially prevalent in certain countries—namely Tanzania, Malawi, and Mozambique, according to Turkish news outlet TRT World. Indeed, Nyasa Times, the online breaking news source that reported Phiri’s murder, stated that “Malawi faces ‘systematic extinction’ of people living with albinism if they continue to be murdered for their body parts.”

The general culture of neglect and harmful behavior toward people with albinism also exacerbates concerns about skin cancer, to which people with albinism are particularly susceptible given their lack of pigmentation. Parents often do not know about the importance of covering up in the sun and copiously applying sunscreen; in fact, some actually take their children with albinism into the sun to intentionally darken their skin, leading to dark-colored pre-cancerous lesions that only encourage the parents to continue. Only 2 percent of people with albinism in sub-Saharan Africa live beyond age 40—largely due to the scourge of cancer—and most children with albinism as young as 10 already have some early form of the disease.

In response to the unchecked spread of skin cancer, a company called Kilimanjaro Suncare, or Kilisun, has designed a sunscreen especially for people with albinism. When the product was released in 2012, it was used to help 25 children; as of 2017, it was being given free of charge to 2,800 people at clinics taking place every four months. Over half of those receiving Kilisun were children.

While skin cancer can be mitigated with appropriately distributed medical care, resolving the culture of violence against people with albinism will be a longer and more arduous process. In its 2017–2018 report, Amnesty International acknowledged the situation of people with albinism in Mozambique for the first time ever, estimating that 30,000 people experienced discrimination for their condition and pointing to a spike in incidents of persecution. In Tanzania, a charity called Under One Sun runs an education program for students with albinism and a summer camp for students who have been abandoned by their families due to their condition, as well as performing public advocacy and outreach through seminars and film screenings. The Albino Foundation offers similar advocacy services in Nigeria, aiming to empower people with albinism and educate the Nigerian and global societies about the realities of the condition.

For some individuals with albinism, art has served as a powerful means to address the injustices hindering their lives on a daily basis. Singer-songwriter Salif Keita—who endured bullying and rejection as a child in Mali due to his albinism, and who founded a global foundation in 2006 to aid those who are afflicted—dedicated a benefit concert in November 2018 to a five-year-old girl with albinism who was kidnapped, tortured, and killed in Mali in May of that year. More than 100 politicians, diplomats, and people with albinism attended the event.

Arriving to Sengerema region in Tanzania, where a life-sized statue dedicated to people attacked due to their albinism can be found. TANZICT Project. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

In Sengerema, Tanzania, a monument has been erected to honor those who have been assaulted and murdered due to their albinism. The statue portrays a dark-skinned father and mother; the father holds his light-skinned child with albinism on his shoulders, and the mother places a hat on the child’s head to keep them safe from the rays of the sun. Around the monument are etched the names of people with albinism who have been attacked, representing an homage to those lost to the anachronistic attitudes of the past. Standing tall above the ground, the life-sized statue—which was made by Tanzanian artists with disabilities—imagines a possible future in which people with albinism can live safely and normally regardless of their pigmentation.

TALYA PHELPS hails from the wilds of upstate New York, but dreams of exploring the globe. As former editor-in-chief at the student newspaper of her alma mater, Vassar College, and the daughter of a journalist, she hopes to follow her passion for writing and editing for many years to come. Contact her if you're looking for a spirited debate on the merits of the em dash vs. the hyphen.

#MeToo Movement Reaches South Korea, Shaking the Foundations of a Society in Flux

In a deeply patriarchal culture, feminist activists face constant setbacks and scrutiny.

Park Geun-hye meeting with former President Barack Obama in 2014. Republic of Korea/Jeon Han. CC BY-SA 2.0

In 2017, TIME Magazine named “The Silence Breakers” as its Person of the Year, marking the influence of the #MeToo movement and commending the women who have shattered decades of complacency regarding sexual harassment. Yet despite the movement’s place at the forefront of the American cultural zeitgeist, the effects of #MeToo are far from confined to the United States. On the other side of the globe, in South Korea, generations of women—long oppressed by the sexism that has proliferated in Korean society—are now uniting to push back against gender discrimination and question the influence of the patriarchy.

A glance at the numbers reveals the gender bias deeply embedded in Korean culture. On average, women earn 37 percent less than their male colleagues, creating the most severe gap among the 35 countries in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD). Countrywide, women account for only 11 percent of managerial positions and 2.1 percent of corporate boards, in comparison to the OECD averages of 31 percent and 19 percent, respectively. In its glass ceiling index, The Economist ranks South Korea as the worst developed nation for working women.

The problem is a self-perpetuating one, as female role models in positions of power are few. In 2013, Park Geun-hye became Korea’s first female president—but far from sharing in her victory, women’s rights organizations strongly opposed her candidacy, recalling her father’s 18-year dictatorship. Only two of Park’s 19 ministers were women, and the aspects of her platform that did promote women’s rights and access were not much more progressive than those of the male presidential hopefuls she defeated. More important, Park lost all credibility when she became embroiled in an extortion scandal in 2016. In April 2018, she was found guilty of 16 out of 18 charges relating to abuse of power and coercion and sentenced to 24 years in jail.

February of that year witnessed an incident that encapsulated Korea’s suspicious attitude towards women’s liberation: Singer Son Naeun of the all-female group Apink was attacked for posting a photo on Instagram of her holding a phone case with the words “Girls can do anything.” In a culture that responds to even such minor displays of feminism with scorn and shame, sexual abuse toward women often goes unnoticed, and survivors who try to make their claims public are met with mockery.

However, despite these hostile attitudes, #MeToo principles in South Korea are finally gaining traction, and Korean women’s accounts of sexual abuse are beginning to garner at least a modicum of respect in the public eye. In January 2018, attorney Seo Ji-hyun—who had experienced years of sexual harassment at the hands of Ahn Tae-geun, the former chief of the Seoul prosecutors’ office—came forward with her allegations on the nightly news, precipitating Ahn’s two-year prison sentence for abuse of power. (He claimed not to remember the incident.) The next month, Choi Young-mi published a poem effectively accusing 85-year-old poet Ko Un of molestation, coerced sex, and harassment. The piece, titled “Monster,” has since gone viral.

The ensuing wave of sexual abuse allegations reached into the hundreds, with presidential hopeful Ahn Hee-jung and award-winning movie director Kim Ki-duk among the accused. Throughout 2018, both traditional and social media networks grew increasingly saturated with talk of societal change, and issues of gender discrimination entered public discourse. Online profiles owned by male and female Koreans alike sported the English-language hashtags #MeToo and #WithYou.

In March 2018, the burgeoning movement reached a watershed moment: a marathon protest in downtown Seoul, during which nearly 200 women publicly shared their stories of sexual harassment for 2018 consecutive minutes. In May, 15,000 people turned out to Daehangno in central Seoul to attend a rally for government accountability on sex crimes; a follow-up in July brought around 60,000, and continuing protests have earned a nickname that translates as “Uncomfortable Courage.”

Gwanghwamun Gate, at the edge of the plaza where almost 200 women shared their experiences with sexual assault as part of a massive protest. Dickson Phua. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Younger generations have been at the forefront of the movement, and some have pushed for change specifically within the culture of schools. Using the hashtag #SchoolMeToo, students at more than 65 Korean schools have come forward with allegations of verbal and physical sexual abuse by teachers. Their stories led to several criminal investigations, and in February of this year, a former middle school teacher was sentenced to a year and a half in prison on charges of repeated assault. In response to the multiple allegations, hundreds of female students turned out for a march in downtown Seoul, which culminated in a gathering outside the presidential palace to protest inadequate responses to abuse.

The Blue House, Seoul’s presidential residence, where students gathered to protest the lack of response to sexual abuse. Julio Martínez. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

On the legislative side, there are signs of incremental change. As of September 2018, maintenance staff in Seoul are now required to check public restrooms daily for hidden cameras, which are often used to secretly record footage of women that is later sold to porn websites. The administration of President Moon Jae-in, who was elected following Park’s impeachment, has announced extensions to the statute of limitations in sexual abuse cases, and a process for anonymous reporting of sexual assault crimes.

Despite progress, activists continue to face persecution. For instance, in the city of Gwangju, where 11 teachers and the principal at one school were criminally charged with sexual abuse, a newspaper editorial questioned the value of the movement and accused students of undermining teachers’ authority. Progressive politicians, such as Shin Ji-ye, a 28-year-old Green Party leader who ran for mayor on a feminist platform last June and finished impressively in fourth, may usher in more substantial shifts. For now, isolated policy decisions and grassroots uprisings are chipping away at the inequities entrenched in Korean ways of life—and #MeToo, from one side of the world to another, continues to stake a claim against centuries of injustice.

TALYA PHELPS hails from the wilds of upstate New York, but dreams of exploring the globe. As former editor-in-chief at the student newspaper of her alma mater, Vassar College, and the daughter of a journalist, she hopes to follow her passion for writing and editing for many years to come. Contact her if you're looking for a spirited debate on the merits of the em dash vs. the hyphen.

Cuba Expands Rights but Rejects Radical Change in Updated Constitution

Cuba has rejected a proposal to legalize same-sex marriage in its new and revised constitution, a move that disappointed some gay rights activists.

An article that would have redefined marriage as a “union between two people” – rather than a “union between a man and a woman” – was eliminated from a proposed new constitution, which was written last year by the National Assembly, analyzed and debated in thousands of public meetings across the island and, on Feb. 24, approved by the Cuban people at referendum.

But marriage equality is not totally off the table in Cuba.

Marriage is now defined in the constitution as “a social and legal institution” and “one form of family organization.” In other words, same-sex marriage is not explicitly permitted – but it’s no longer strictly prohibited, either.

This is how social change works these days in Cuba, my home country and the subject of my academic research. Progress is no longer revolutionary. It comes slowly, and cloaked in moderation.

Slow change

In this way, Cuba has undergone a gradual and dramatic metamorphosis under the governments of Raúl Castro and his successor, President Miguel Díaz-Canel.

Thanks to a thaw in U.S.-Cuba relations under President Barack Obama, American tourists began visiting the communist country for the first time since the Kennedy administration placed a trade embargo on Cuba after Fidel Castro’s 1959 communist revolution.

Starting in 2008, Castro opened the economy to some foreign investment and allowed Cuban workers – once confined to government jobs – to start small businesses.

The new constitution – the fourth such update to Cuba’s founding document – creates official legal standing for Castro’s economic reforms, which had remained in legal limbo under a Cold War-era constitution that did not recognize private property or the business sector.

Cuban President Miguel Diaz-Canel with former President Raúl Castro, brother of Fidel Castro. AP Photo/Desmond Boylan

Many Cubans hoped the reform process would also expand civil liberties, bringing Cuban law more into line with its changing society.

LGBTQ rights groups, in particular, launched public awareness campaigns about sexual diversity. By late 2018, the path seemed to have been paved for gay marriage.

But religious groups fiercely opposed the move, and ultimately the government removed new language defining marriage as a “union between two people.”

Some hits, some misses

Still, the newly approved constitution does substantially expand social, political and economic rights in Cuba.

It limits Cuban presidents to two five-year terms. Previously, Cuba had no term limits. It also creates a prime minister position and strengthens local government, shifting power out of the executive. The criminal justice system in Cuba now operates on the presumption of innocence, not guilt.

Freedom of assembly, long restricted on the island, has also been expanded.

Previously, Cubans had the “right to meet, demonstrate and associate, for licit and peaceful purposes,” but only as part of a so-called “organización de masa” – the Cuban term for state-run groups. The new constitution removes the words “organizaciones de masa,” depoliticizing the freedom of assembly.

It remains to be seen whether the government will actually respect Cubans’ new right to form independent organizations – especially if those groups are political in nature.

“Spontaneous gatherings [in Cuba] are not seen positively and are always perceived to be the product of a foreign power,” wrote José Gabriel Barrenechea of La Trinchera, a blog for and by “young Marxists,” in a recent post.

Greater equality

Cuba’s prior constitution prohibited discrimination on the basis of race, skin color, sex, national origin and religious belief. Now gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, age, ethnic origin, disability and territorial origin have been added to the list.

The National Assembly stopped short of proposing any affirmative action policies, however, which would have been a more radical step toward equality.

The 1959 Cuban Revolution aimed to abolish all economic and racial differences among the Cubans, at least 36 percent of whom are Afro-Cuban. And Cuba’s inequality levels still remain well below other countries in the region.

But the recent economic reforms that increased prosperity for some have left certain minority groups – namely Afro-Cubans and the elderly – behind. Anti-discrimination statutes do nothing to close the widening wage gap.

The verdict is also mixed on how women fare under new laws.

Abortion, which unlike in the majority of Latin America and Caribbeanhas long been easily accessible in Cuba, is now officially protected in a provision guaranteeing women’s access to reproductive health services. And all forms of gender-based violence, not just domestic abuse and sexual assault, but also street harassment and workplace intimidation, are criminalized.

However, a popular constitutional guarantee that the government will provide free, universal child care and elder care to all working families women was eliminated.

This shifts the burden of care away from the government and onto the family. In a patriarchal society like Cuba’s, I believe women will inevitably assume these domestic duties.

Cubans evidently feared that other heralded rights would be lost, too.

In last year’s island-wide public meetings, people frequently requestedassurances that universal health care and free public education through the post-graduate level would be maintained.

They were.

Rights deferred

But some long-hoped-for rights remain elusive.

Independent media is still prohibited, a blow to the blogs and alternative news sites that have cropped up to fill the information vacuum of a country where all news sources are government-owned.

Some analysts have observed that, as in the case of gay marriage, language defining the role of the media in Cuba was loosened somewhat. And in December the government announced it would allow Cubans to access the internet on their smartphones.

This may leave the door open for greater press freedom in the future.

However, in my analysis, regional politics make that unlikely to occur any time soon.

For six decades, the U.S. government has tried to destabilize Cuban society by broadcasting anti-Communist messages on radio and TV broadcasts.

Now, the U.S. Office of Cuba Broadcasting has turned its attention to social media. The Trump administration in 2018 admitted that it tried to create fake Facebook accounts to foment dissent on the island, though it says the project “never got off the ground.”

This revelation will likely only strengthen the Cuban government’s resolve to limit Cubans’ access to information.

The constitutional reform process has confirmed that radical progress in Cuba will have to wait. But Cuba is changing, in zigs and in zags – just perhaps not as fast as some might hope.

MARIA ISABEL ALFONSO is the Professor of Spanish at St. Joseph's College of New York.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

Fighting to End Child Marriage in Lebanon

Ghassan Idriss knows firsthand the harmful effects of child marriage on society. Having married at a young age to a woman even younger than himself, Idriss and his wife faced struggles that so many other couples in his home country of Lebanon grapple with. Now, with three daughters of his own, Idriss is doing everything he can to educate those around him about the dangers of this antiquated institution. By hosting talks, he’s using his voice to spark change within his community.

Inside the Network of Mormon Moms Fighting for Their LGBTQ Children

Growing up in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints can be an isolating experience for LGBTQ+ youth. Current Mormon doctrine doesn’t have a place for those who identify as LGBTQ+, or any guidance or support for young adults navigating their sexuality. Many face unforgiving ideologies that teach them to be celibate, or to “pray the gay away.” Furthermore, the state of Utah has the highest suicide rate among children ages 10-17, a statistic that is especially alarming to parents. Within this culture are the Mama Dragons, a fiercely loving support group of mothers that provides open ears and open arms to LGBTQ+ youth and families in the Mormon community. Comprised of Mormon, post-Mormon and never-Mormon women, the support group offers mothers of LGBTQ+ children an outlet and a community. Together, this grassroots group of mothers is breathing fire to protect their kids, writing a new chapter in a community of faith.

Canada’s Genocide: The Case of the Ahiarmiu

As a human rights scholar, I have long argued that Canada committed cultural genocide against Indigenous peoples. But recently, I’ve come to conclude, in the case of the Ahiarmiut, that it’s not cultural genocide —it’s actual physical genocide.

An article in the Globe and Mail last summer by Gloria Galloway told the story of what happened to the Ahiarmiut, a small group of Inuit in 1950.

The Canadian government forcefully relocated them 100 kilometres from their original home in what is now Nunavut. The government’s reason for moving the Ahiarmiut people was that they were becoming too dependent on trade with federal employees at a nearby radio tower.

Galloway got much of her information from David Serkoak, an Elder who lived through the relocations. Recently, Serkoak collaborated with the Canadian Museum for Human Rights (CMHR) to tell his story and to be a storyteller for his community.

RHODA E. HOWARD-HASSMANN is a Professor Emeritus, Department of Political Science, at Wilfrid Laurier University.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

What We Can Learn From an Indonesian Ethnicity that Recognizes Five Genders

On June 13, when a judge in Oregon allowed a person to legally choose neither sex and be classified as “nonbinary,” transgender activists rejoiced. It’s thought to be the first ruling of its kind in a country that, until now, has required that people mark “male” or “female” on official identity documents.

The small victory comes in the wake of a controversial new law in North Carolina that prevents transgender people from using public restrooms that do not match the sex on their birth certificates.

The conflict rooted in these recent policies is nothing new; for years, people have been asking questions about whether the “sex” we are born with should dictate things like which public facilities we can use, what to tick on our passport application and who’s eligible to play on particular sports teams.

But what if gender were viewed the same way sex researcher Alfred Kinsey famously depicted sexuality – as something along a sliding scale?

In fact, there’s an ethnic group in South Sulawesi, Indonesia – the Bugis – that views gender this way. For my Ph.D. research, I lived in South Sulawesi in the late 1990s to learn more about the Bugis’ various ways of understanding sex and gender. I eventually detailed these conceptualizations in my book “Gender Diversity in Indonesia.”

Does society dictate our gender?

For many thinkers, such as gender theorist Judith Butler, requiring everyone to choose between the “female” and “male” toilet is absurd because there is no such thing as sex to begin with.

According to this strain of thinking, sex doesn’t mean anything until we become engendered and start performing “sex” through our dress, our walk, our talk. In other words, having a penis means nothing before society starts telling you that if you have one you shouldn’t wear a skirt (well, unless it’s a kilt).

Nonetheless, most talk about sex as if everyone on the planet was born either female or male. Gender theorists like Butler would argue that humans are far too complex and diverse to enable all seven billion of us to be evenly split into one of two camps.

This comes across most clearly in how doctors treat children born with “indeterminate” sex (such as those born with androgen insensitivity syndrome, hypospadias or Klinefelter syndrome). In cases where a child’s sex is indeterminate, doctors used to simply measure the appendage to see if the clitoris was too long – and therefore, must be labeled a penis – or vice versa. Such moves arbitrarily forced a child under the umbrella of one sex or the other, rather than letting the child grow naturally with their body.

Gender on a spectrum

Perhaps a more useful way to think about sex is to see sex as a spectrum.

While all societies are highly and diversely gendered, with specific roles for women and men, there are also certain societies – or, at least, individuals within societies – who have nuanced understandings of the relationship between sex (our physical bodies), gender (what culture makes of those bodies) and sexuality (which kinds of bodies we desire).

Indonesia may be in the press for terror attacks and executions, but it’s actually a very tolerant country. In fact, Indonesia is the world’s fourth-largest democracy, and furthermore, unlike North Carolina, it currently has no anti-LGBT policy. Moreover, Indonesians can select “transgender” (waria) on their identity card (although given the recent, unprecedented wave of violence against LGBT people, this may change).

The Bugis are the largest ethnic group in South Sulawesi, numbering around three million people. Most Bugis are Muslim, but there are many pre-Islamic rituals that continue to be honored in Bugis culture, which include distinct views of gender and sexuality.

Their language offers five terms referencing various combinations of sex, gender and sexuality: makkunrai (“female women”), oroani (“male men”), calalai (“female men”), calabai (“male women”) and bissu (“transgender priests”). These definitions are not exact, but suffice.

During the early part of my Ph.D. research, I was talking with a man who, despite having no formal education, was a critical social thinker.

As I was puzzling about how Bugis might conceptualize sex, gender and sexuality, he pointed out to me that I was mistaken in thinking that there were just two discrete sexes, female and male. Rather, he told me that we are all on a spectrum:

Imagine someone is here at this end of a line and that they are, what would you call it, XX, and then you travel along this line until you get to the other end, and that’s XY. But along this line are all sorts of people with all sorts of different makeups and characters.

This spectrum of sex is a good way of thinking about the complexity and diversity of humans. When sex is viewed through this lens, North Carolina’s law prohibiting people from choosing which toilet they can use sounds arbitrary, forcing people to fit into spaces that might conflict with their identities.

SHARYN GRAHAM DAVIES is an Associate Professor of Social Sciences at Auckland University of Technology.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

The Truth About Where Hair Extensions Come From

This video takes us into the underground world of human hair trafficking. Wigs and extensions are often made of real human hair, but the hair is usually sourced from human trafficking.

Acid Attacks: A Regional or Global Phenomenon?

Many assume acid attacks are typical of Southeast Asia, but studies show they occur globally.

Acid attacks survivors in Bangladesh (Source: Photograph by Narayan Nath/FCO/Department for International Development). CC-BY-2.0.

What do you think of when you see an acid attack report in the news? Likely you think of a woman in Southeast Asia who was attacked by a man.

Unfortunately this immediate association many of us make with Southeast Asia, obscures a global trend that encompasses both developing and industrialized nations. Notably in 2016 most cases of acid attacks were actually in the United Kingdom, where 454 cases were reported compared to 300 in India. The United Kingdom is also one of the few areas where acid attacks are directed against other men, usually because of gang violence, rather than women.

Still there is some truth to the regional associations some might make. Around “90% of global burn injuries occur in developing countries” according to research presented by Acid Survivors Trust International (ASTI). The other truth is the disproportionate targeting of women. ASTI estimates that out of 1,500 cases of gender violence each year, 80% of cases are women. Considering  60% of cases go unreported according to ASTI, it is clear that acid attacks are not a rare event.

The major motive for acid attacks is a desire to disfigure the victim and take away their chance for a future; especially with women, perpetrators often hope to take away their beauty. According to a 2011 study sponsored by programs at Cornell University Law, acid was also viewed as a punishment against women who stepped outside traditional gender roles in patriarchal societies. Other reasons included rejected love, disagreements over land, or marriage disputes (dowry issues).

For Nepalese victim Sangita Magar, gender violence is particularly relevant. Her perpetuator, Jiwan B.K., attacked Magar—who almost lost her eyesight in addition to the scarring—after arguing with her brother over their apartment complex’s shared bathroom. Like most survivors she required extensive treatment.

However when she was attacked in 2015, Nepalese law provided no compensation for her injuries. The required treatment was also not included in the free care the Nepalese government provides it citizens.

So in 2017 Magar and a fellow plaintiff challenged the law in a public interest case to benefit future victims. They successfully brought about financial support for treatment to victims and stronger punishments for perpetrators with a minimum prison sentence of five years as well as fines ranging between 100,000 and 500,000 rupees, dependent on the victim’s injuries. Although the regulation of acid sales has yet to take effect, Nepal’s Supreme Court implemented the other measures in August 2018.

Many hope these changes will help decrease the number of acid attacks in Nepal, where around 40 cases are reported every year according to local NGO Burns Violence Survivors. Indeed, many look to the example of Bangladesh. Following changes in the law in 2002 and regulation of acid sales, reported cases dropped from 494 in 2002 to only 44 reported cases in 2016.

And it is the availability of acid that underlies the global trend. Where guns are not as readily accessible, acid is an easy choice. Acid is easily found in areas that utilize it in agriculture or produce it. But even if an area does not use or produce it, acid is found in household cleaners and paint.

Most places also do not regulate the sale of acid: Europe is one of them. However Belgian Patricia Lefranc, whose ex-lover attacked her in 2009, is leading a campaign to push for identity card checks to regulate acid sales within the European Union.

Currently, the main voice for change is London-based NGO Acid Survivors Trust International., founded in 2002. ASTI strives to “mobilise resources to support in-country partners to assist survivors” with medical treatment as well as therapy for psychological trauma. ASTI also promotes education, advocates policy changes, trains medical professionals, and funds research.

Most importantly, as outlined by the UN in 1992 under the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, ASTI is holding countries accountable to their obligation to protect individuals from gender violence and provide services to victims. Their successes reflect this: ASTI helped change Cambodia’s acid laws and reached 6,360 community members in Nepal and Pakistan in an awareness campaign about acid attacks, among other successes.

And it is awareness of the global scope of acid attacks that gives space for all survivors to speak out, if they wish. Awareness also supports NGOs that have been pushing for change. In other words, being aware shows that survivors and their advocates have been heard.

TERESA NOWALK is a student at the University of Virginia studying anthropology and history. In her free time she loves traveling, volunteering in the Charlottesville community, and listening to other people’s stories. She does not know where her studies will take her, but is certain writing will be a part of whatever the future has in store.

Images of Suffering Can Bring About Change – But Are They Ethical?

In a series of provocative photographs, poor children in India were made to pose in front of fancy tables covered with fake food. A prize-winning Italian photographer, Alessio Mamo, took these pictures in 2011, as part of a project called “Dreaming Food.” After the World Press Photo Foundation shared the photos on Instagram, they sparked a bitter controversy. Many considered them unethical and offensive.

In his apology, Mamo described his desire to show to a Western audience “in a provocative way, about the waste of food.” He was attacked for lacking cultural sensitivity and violating 21st-century photographic ethics.

Despite such risks, as a public law scholar, I am aware that images of suffering are often part of human rights campaigns. And freedom of expression, including visual representation, is protected by a United Nations treaty and many national constitutions.

At the same time, however, I argue for ethical limitations on the right to take pictures.

Moral questions

The controversy around Mamo’s so-called “poverty porn” images is not the first time that such questions have been raised.

The iconic photograph ‘Migrant Mother’ by Dorothea Lange, on display at the Oakland Museum of California. AP Photo/Eric Risberg

One such case was that of the 1936 black-and-white photograph of Florence Owens Thompson that became the iconic image of the “Migrant Mother” during the Depression. Photographer Dorothea Lange took the picture for Resettlement Administration, a New Deal agency tasked with helping poor families relocate. It showed Thompson, with her children, living in poverty.

The family survived on frozen vegetables and birds they hunted. The photo was intended to build support for social welfare policies.

The photo raised some moral questions.

While Lange shot to fame, no one knew the name of the woman. It was only decades later that Thompson was tracked down and agreed to tell her story. As it turned out, Thompson didn’t profit from “Migrant Mother” and continued to work hard to keep her family together. As she said later,

“I didn’t get anything out of it. I wish she hadn’t taken my picture. … She didn’t ask my name. She said she wouldn’t sell the pictures. She said she’d send me a copy. She never did.”

Thompson felt “bitter, angry and alienated,” over the “commodification” of her image, wrote scholars Robert Hariman and John Louis Lucaites, in their study of powerful images.

Thompson was the poster child for the Depression, and she did take some pride in that. Her photo benefited many. But, as she asked a reporter, “what good’s it doing me?”

What’s the role of a photographer?

Another striking example is a 1993 photo by South African photographer Kevin Carter showing a young Sudanese girl, with a vulture perched near her. The iconic image captured public attention by focusing on the plight of children during a time of famine.

Kevin Carter’s photo shows a starving girl with a vulture next to her. Cliff

Unlike other images depicting starving children with “flies in the eyes,” this one highlighted the predicament of a vulnerable famine victim, crawling to a food station in Ayod, in South Sudan.

The picture won Carter a Pulitzer Prize in 1994, but also precipitated an avalanche of criticism. Although Carter scared the vulture away, he did not carry the girl to the nearby food station. The fate of the girl remained unknown.

In a critical essay about the image, scholars Arthur and Ruth Kleinman asked: Why did the photographer allow the predatory bird to move so close to the child? Why were her relatives no where to be seen? And, what did the photographer do after he took the picture?

They also went on to write that the Pulitzer Prize was won “because of the misery (and probable death) of a nameless little girl.” Some others called Carter “as much a predator as the vulture.”

Two months after receiving the Pulitzer, in July 1994, Carter took his own life. Apart from his own challenging personal circumstances, his suicide note revealed that he was haunted by the vivid memories of the suffering that he witnessed.

Pictures for charity

Admittedly, famine, poverty and disasters need attention and action. The challenge for journalists, as scholar David Campbell notes, is to mobilize public reactions before it is too late.

These catastrophes require prompt intervention by government and relief agencies, through, what human rights scholar Thomas Keenan and others call, “mobilizing shame” – a way of exerting pressure on states to act to rescue those in dire circumstances.

Such an effort is often more effective if images are used. As Rakiya Omaar and Alex de Waal, co-directors of African Rights, a new human rights organization based in London, note,

“The most respectable excuse for selectively presenting images of starvation is that this is necessary to elicit our charity.”

The truth is, these images do have an impact. When James Nachtwey, an American photographer, took photos of the famine in Somalia, the world was moved. The Red Cross said public support resulted in what was then its largest operation since WWII. It was much the same with Carter’s image, which helped galvanize aid to Sudan.

Nonetheless, as Campbell contends, media coverage can reinforce negative stereotypes through an iconography of famine or images of those starving in “remote” places like Africa. His argument is that individuals continue to present people in what the Kleinmans call the “ideologically Western mode.”

In this framing, the individual appears without context, usually alone, and without the ability to act independently.

Changing representations

Greater awareness of the power of images in different contexts has exerted pressure on NGOs and journalists to shift from a “politics of pity” to a “politics of dignity.”

In 2010 Amnesty International issued photo guidelines, regarding rules for images that show suffering. Save the Children also drafted a manual after conducting research on image ethics in various parts of the world.

Explicit rules include not posing subjects, avoiding nudity and consulting subjects about the way they believe the narrative ought to be presented visually. A major concern has been how sometimes the subjects and scene might be manipulated to orchestrate an image.

What this reflects is a desire to show greater sensitivity to the precarious status of some subjects in photographs.

But this is easier said than done. Recognizing that voyeuristic interpretation of distant suffering is offensive does not necessarily mean this practice will cease. The real challenge ultimately is that the ethically problematic images that present “pitiful” victims to the world are often the ones that capture public attention.

Eventually, much rests on the stringent ethical standards that photographers set for themselves. What they do need to remember, is that often, good intentions do not justify the use of questionable images of suffering.

ALISON DUNDES RENTEIN is a Professor of Political Science, Anthropology, Public Policy and Law at the University of Southern California – Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION

Gay Sex Decriminalized in India

The supreme court’s decision removed a 150 year old clause created by the British colonial government.

Rainbow flags in Alvula, India. Kandukuru Nagarjun. CC 2.0

Last Thursday the Indian supreme court voted to dismiss section 377 of the Indian Penal Code which made gay sex illegal. The law, labeling gay sex as “against the order of nature” was created in 1860 by the British colonial government and was in existence for 150 years before being struck down last week. While the section was briefly dismissed in 2009, it was reinstated four years later due to appeals filed at the supreme court. It was the supreme court’s decision a few days ago that removed the law once and for all.

The dismissal of the law was due in part to the tireless efforts of many LGBTQ activists who risked reprecutions of up to life imprisonment for publicizing their sexuality in order to petition and protest for the removal of the law. They represent the many gay and trans people who have suffered blackmail, intimidation, and abuse because of the section.

“History owes an apology to members of the community for the delay in ensuring their rights,” Justice Indu Malhotra said in a statement.

The supreme court went further than merely decriminalizing gay sex: as part of the repeal of section 377, gay people in India will finally receive all the protections of their constitution.

The law, called “irrational, indefensible and manifestly arbitrary” but Chief Justice Dipak Misra, was defeated in part because it conflicted with a recent law granting privacy as a constitutional right. It was also largely perceived out of step with modern India. In their decision, the justices referenced the fact that the Indian constitution is not “a collection of mere dead letters”, but a document open to evolving with time and social attitudes.

According to Menaka Guruswamy, one of the main lawyers representing gay petitioners, the court's decision not to discriminate based on sexual orientation has created a “very powerful foundation.” It represents a public acknowledgement that as a gay person, “You are not alone. The court stands with you. The Constitution stands with you. And therefore your country stands with you.”

In excitement over the law it is important to acknowledge that India is not in any way “catching up” to the west in LGBTQ rights. Instead, the removal of this oppressive law is an example of India decolonizing. Many Hindu temples show images of people of the same sex embracing erotically. In the temples of Khajuraho there are depictions of women embracing and men showing their genitals to each other. There are Hindu myths in which men become pregnant and in which transgender people are awarded with special ranks. India Today writes that “In the Valmiki Ramayana, Lord Rama's devotee and companion Hanuman is said to have seen Rakshasa women kissing and embracing other women.”

In response to the law’s framing of homosexuality as unnatural, Anil Bhanot wrote in the Guardian that “the ancient Hindu scriptures describe the homosexual condition to be a biological one, and although the scripture gives guidance to parents on how to avoid procreating a homosexual child, it does not condemn the child as unnatural.”

The removal of the law represents a shift toward a more progressive future while also returning to India’s pre colonial attitudes.

EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her. 

Exiting the World Stage: The Implications of US Withdrawal from the UN Human Rights Council

The implications of US Withdrawal from the Human Rights Council

The US has made yet another move against a multilateral approach to global affairs. On Wednesday, June 20th, Nikki Haley US Ambassador to the UN announced the withdrawal of the US from the Human Rights Council (HRC) due to its inefficiency and bias. This decision has severe symbolic and practical effects.

Haley claims that the Trump administration had been considering this move since 2016 but has worked for the past 17 months towards institutional reform, demanding essential changes intended to mitigate the protection of abuse and political bias. However, such demands were not
met and other likeminded countries on the council were unwilling to take a stand against the HRC.

The Trump administration argues that US withdrawal is not a threat to human rights, rather it’s an attempt to strengthen the promotion and protection of human rights around the world. Critics of this decision argue that while the HRC is flawed, withdrawing from it is not an effective solution. Rosa Freedman, professor at the University of Reading, claims that reform was bound to fail as the US tried passing resolutions without any cosponsors or support from other member states. Mohammed Cherkaoui, professor at George Mason University, suggests that the US had been looking for an excuse to withdraw. Haley condemned the lack of action taken regarding Venezuelan human rights abuses, yet the US never called for a special session on Venezuela even when they had the chance.

In 2017, the HRC membership election sparked controversy. Member states, including the US, condemned the election of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) to the council. Despite great opposition, the election of African states to the council is not competitive, so a spot for the
DRC was practically guaranteed. The inclusion of states which are known for violating human rights on the council causes concern among many members of the HRC, and the US declared this primary reason for leaving the council. Another such reason is the council’s stance toward Israel, that the Trump administration perceives as a negative bias. Still, the US withdrawing from the HRC does not undermine the power of the institution. Since Trump’s election, the US has gradually backed out of agreements and decreased funding, signaling to the world that its withdrawal was imminent. During that time, other countries have picked up the slack to ensure
that the withdrawal of the US would have minimal negative effects on the institution as a whole.
However, without the US on the council it will be more difficult to hold countries like Russia, North Korea, and Syria accountable for human rights abuses.

On the surface, the ideas behind US withdrawal seem to be in favor of human rights. However, the US no longer has an official, binding declaration promising to protect human rights or enforcement mechanisms to hold it accountable on the world stage. The symbolic implications are bleak.

No institution is perfect; a multilateral push for reform is necessary for improving the system. In 2020, the HRC is due for organized institutional reform. Now that the US is no longer a member, they have no say in the changes that will take place in the next couple of years.

SARAH MILLER is a senior at Temple University studying Political Science. With a passion for social activism, she hopes to improve the political nature of communities and governments around the world. She believes it is our duty as human beings to use our voices to create positive change.

8 Steps We Can Take To Support Women and Girls

On the 8th of March - International Women's Day - here are 8 steps decision makers must take to support women and girls fighting for their rights in the most difficult places on Earth.

How Yemeni Women Are Fighting the War

Since 2015, a Saudi-led coalition has waged war against Shia Houthi forces in Yemen. More than 8,000 people have been killed, and more than 49,000 injured; at least 69% of the population is reportedly in need of humanitarian assistance. Million of Yemenis are facing starvation. Weapons circulation is widespread and uncontrolled: in 2016, a UN report estimated that between 40m to 60m firearms were circulating freely in the country.

The conflict has had a devastating impact on the women of the country. Household breadwinners are usually men; many are fighting, injured or killed. There is an economic crisis in the private sector, and many public sector jobs are no longer paying salaries. The health and security of the female population is endangered by exposure to cholera and other diseases. And then there’s the issue of child marriages: the severe poverty crisis means that prepubescent girls are married off to repay debts, or to raise funds to feed the rest of the family.

A woman from the Northern Ibb region, which is occupied by the rebel Houthi army, explained the situation to a research team:

We live in a state of lawlessness: no security, no protection and no functional law enforcement authorities. A person may be shot dead for a trivial thing. The security situation doesn’t look like it did in the past. Now, there are informal groups behaving as if they were law enforcement authorities. These groups have power, and their power is the law. They use force against whoever disagrees with them or criticises their behaviour.

As the feminist scholar Cynthia Enloe has pointed out, women are crucial for war and play supportive roles for the military. Indeed, many Yemeni women are not victims of war or just escaping or hiding from this war. In many contrasting ways, they are actively supporting it, and not only on humanitarian grounds.

Women engaging in war

Although many Yemeni women discourage their family members from taking part in the conflict and very few take up arms themselves, they also help recruit men to the army. They also support combatants by cooking food for them and helping to distribute it.

A young woman, Nasseem Al-Odaini, whose family has fled to the neighbouring Ibb region, stayed behind in Houthi-occupied Taiz and initiated an organisation that assist the combatants that support the former government. As she told Middle East Eye: “We want to encourage the pro-government forces to advance in the province, by raising the spirits of the fighters”.

Other Yemeni women try to mitigate the impact of the conflict the best way possible. For example, women engage in humanitarian relief and in providing social and psychological support for people who have been traumatised by the war. They also engage in peace processes when they initiate discussions of the conflict in their communities.

Since the war is not equally intense in every part of the country, there are better possibilities for women to participate in peace processes around the port city of Aden, in the south, than it is in the north, where the Houthi army has taken control and Saudi coalition airstrikes are part of everyday life. Accordingly, women’s conditions and activities differ from one region to another.

Yemeni women and girls wait to receive free bread provided by a charity bakery during a severe shortage of food in Sana'a, Yemen, 15 August 2017. EPA/YAHYA ARHAB

A blocked momentum

In the north, local communities are more divided (between supporters and adversaries of the Houthi government) than in the south. When women enter the public and participate in charity work, they may be questioned by “de facto authorities” (read: the Houthi army) who, according to one woman, would try to prevent them from doing their work. They would also tell women that they are not allowed to appear in public before men:

They [the Houthis] are opposed to women playing a role in public life. According to them, the woman’s role is restricted to cooking and housework. They marginalise women; they deny their role in the community.

Women in Northern and Southern parts of Yemen are not full citizens. According to Amnesty International, they “face discrimination in matters of marriage, divorce, inheritance, and child custody, and the state fails to take adequate measures to prevent, investigate, and punish domestic violence”. Discrimination against women in Yemen go back far beyond the war and are associated with local customs according to several studies. And yet, Yemeni women maintain their engagement in the development of their country.

An old engagement

During the popular uprising in the country in 2011 where hundreds of thousands of Yemenis followed the “youth movement” and protested against the corrupt reign of the then-president, Ali Abdullah Saleh, Yemeni women took to the streets to an extent that was unforeseen and unprecedented.

Many women participants were independent of political groups, but in the later stages of the protests the Islamic Reform party – inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood – managed to take charge of the protest movement, raising independent women’s concern that their rights would be disregarded.

However, independent women and women belonging to the political parties, including the Islamic Reform party and the Houthi political wing, Ansar Allah, constituted almost one third of participantsin the UN-guided National Dialogue Conference which followed the forced resignation of the President in November 2011. The aim of the 10 months long conference was to formulate a new and more democratic constitution for a united Yemen. However, the draft constitution which included a general 30% gender quota was rejected  by the Houthi movement in September 2014, before the population had given their voice in a referendum.

By then disappointment with the process towards a new Yemen had given the Houthis wide popular support. They occupied major government institutions in the capital, Sana'a and removed the transition government recognised internationally. Interestingly, it was not the gender quota which made the Houthis reject the draft constitution, but the view to a power-sharing model which did not give them what they expected.

The Houthi movement’s occupation of the capital and seizure of government seemed to mark both the beginning of a war, and the end of momentum for women’s rights in Yemen – a country which generally figures in the lowest ranks of Arab gender equality indexes. In 2014, a group of women from diverse political backgrounds pushed for political solutions instead of war. Since then they have been sidelined from peace negotiations – but that doesn’t mean that Yemeni women have lost all hope.

This article was originally published on The Conversation.

CONNIE CHRISTIANSEN

Dr. Connie Carøe Christiansen is a visiting associate professor in Gender Studies. She was an associate professor at Roskilde University in Denmark and a senior advisor at KVINFO, the Danish Centre for Research and Information on Gender, Equality and Diversity, where she managed academic programs in the Arab region, including a program which established an M.A. program on International Development and Gender at Sanaa University in Yemen. She has published research on gender, migration and Islam in Denmark, Turkey, Morocco and Yemen. She has her M.A. in Cultural Sociology and Ph.D. in Anthropology from Copenhagen University, Denmark. 

REFUGE: Human Stories From the Refugee Crisis

A small team of filmmakers set out for Greece, documenting human stories from the frontlines of the European Refugee Crisis, focused on humanity and hope. The world was changing and they found themselves at a crossroads in history, so they set out to help in the way that they knew best - with the telling, and sharing, of stories. RefugeProject.co

GHANA: Child Slavery

One small boy. One huge lake. Foli was a slave. Immerse yourself in his story.

Thousands of children between the ages of 6 and 18 live in slavery on Lake Volta, working up to 18 hours a day in the fishing industry. For these young children, the only way out of slavery is to drown or be rescued. Children just like Foli.* Visit ijm.org/foli to send rescue today.

I Tendopoli: The Tent Cities of Italy

Orange season brings thousands of seasonal migrant workers to the Calabrian coast during the winter months. The men live in intimidation from the ‘Ndrangheta, the Calabrian mafia, and were the target of media attention in 2010 when riots broke out between the Italians and the Africans after two migrant workers were shot. This photo series follows Ibra, a man originally from Burkina Faso, who has lived in Italy since 2001 and was living in the tent city for six months when these photographs were taken, working towards his dream of making enough money to return home and provide for his family.

The men living in the tendopoli, which literally translates to “tent city,” pick tomatoes in Naples in the spring and oranges in Calabria during the winter.  In the winter months, as many as 2000 migrants live in temporary settlements along the Calabrian coast. That number shrinks to several hundred during the off-season. Some of the men, like Ibra, first traveled to larger cities in the north of Italy and slowly made their way south as job prospects for African migrants became grim. Ibra first set foot on Italian soil in Milan, and has worked in Sicily as well as Naples and Calabria. Occasionally, Ibra takes odd jobs in surrounding towns from Italians he is friendly with. The shantytown where these migrants live lies between Gioia Tauro and Rosarno, two small towns that hug Calabria’s western coast. Residents of Rosarno and the neighboring migrants entered the national Italian spotlight following the killing of two migrants by resident Italians in January 2010. Riots ensued, stirring a national dialogue concerning the treatment of seasonal African workers living in intimidation and squalor. Ibra, a six-month resident of the tendopoli, is often sought out for advice by fellow migrant workers. Fluent in Italian and well-connected in neighboring towns, Ibra helps men living in the camp obtain legal working papers and permessi di soggiorni, “permits to stay” in the country for an allotted period of months to work. He also coordinates the local branch of Caritas, a worldwide Catholic charity aimed at mitigating poverty, serving food to the residents of the tendopoli twice a week. Italy, like all of Europe, is saturated with the same anti-immigrant rhetoric that has fueled the election of far-right leaders across a swath of nations. The future of Ibra, and seasonal migrant workers like him, will be determined by what steps these nations take in restricting their borders, and the official response to informally tolerated discrimination.

Tendopoli. | Located in the deep south of the Calabrese coast about an hour outside Reggio Calabria, this shoddy settlement housing West African migrants was never intended to last long. Hand-erected tents stand next to government-donated ones, housing West African migrants hailing primarily from Mali, Burkina Faso, Nigeria, and Ghana. Promises of permanent housing from local Italian governments have proved empty. Meanwhile, the encampment continues to grow in population. This particular tendopoli reached national notoriety in January 2010 following the death of two migrants at the hands of local Italians and subsequent riots.

Emergence. | This tendopoli was slated for destruction following violent attacks on the West African population by local Italians that made international headlines in 2010, in favor of more permanent housing. No progress has been made to construct these permanent homes, and Tendopoli remains active as a settlement.

Accendeva una sigaretta. | Ibra is my guide through the tendopoli. Ibra is originally from Burkina Faso, and unlike most of the men who arrived in Italy from Libya through the perilous Mediterranean sea route, he arrived by plane. He is a polyglot, speaking French, Italian, Igbu, and several bantu languages. Ibra spoke to me only in Italian, and was instrumental in helping with translations during interviews that were conducted partially in French.

La Frutta. | Ibra shares dried fruit from his native Burkina Faso.

Il lavoro del macellaio. | Assan, the butcher, leaves behind a sheep’s head after slicing up a carcass.

Materassi bagnati. | Mattresses dry out following a three-day hail and rain storm.

La tenda d’Ibra. | The blue tents were donated by the government as a temporary measure before permanent housing could be secured. However,the tendopoli encampment has been active for years. What was meant to be a short-time bandaid is currently having to function as a long-term solution.

L’uomo e figlio. | The tendopoli is home almost entirely to men, with only three women and two children recorded as residents. The men follow the seasonal fruit picking terms, Naples for tomatoes in the spring and Calabria for oranges in the summer.

Le scarpe. | Shoes dry on the top of a tent following a three-day rain and hailstorm. Because of its proximity to the ocean, the tendopoli floods consistently in the springtime rainy season.

La salvia d’Ibra. | Ibra keeps fresh sage in his tent for cooking. The electricity in the tendopoli is unreliable at its best; at its worst, it can go out for days or weeks at a time. Cooking on Ibra’s tiny stovetops requires no small measure of creativity and patience.

La bambina. | Leila is the daughter of a woman known to most as Mama Africa. The two live in an apartment in the nearby town of Rosarno, gifting residents of the shantytown supplies when they can afford it. Ibra functions as a liaison between Mama Africa and those living in the tendopoli. He brings Leila gifts when he can.

The Calabrese regional government continues to ignore the conditions of confinement they have created in the tendopoli. With no end of the occupation in sight, the men of the tendopoli are forced to continue living in these atrocious circumstances until administrative compliancy ends.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON FREELY MAGAZINE.

MAGGIE ANDRESEN

Maggie Andresen is a recent graduate of the Temple University Klein College of Media and Communications, where she studied photojournalism and international reporting. She has worked for newspapers in New York, New Orleans, and Denver. Currently, she is a Princeton in Africa fellow working in communications at Gardens for Health International, a small Rwanda-based non-profit working to end childhood malnutrition. 

Splitting Nicaragua: The People Fighting To Keep Their Country Together

The proposed Nicaragua Canal could be one of the largest engineering projects in history and promises to bring thousands of jobs to the impoverished country. But the government’s secretive deal with a Chinese-led firm has some Nicaraguans raising the alarm about displacement and environmental destruction in the canal’s path.