Global Roundup: Honouring Kurdish GBV Victims, Turkey Pride Week, France Radical Pride, Queer Nigerian Creators, India Sword Granny
Global Roundup: Honouring Kurdish GBV Victims, Turkey Pride Week, France Radical Pride, Queer Nigerian Creators, India Sword Granny
Curated by FG Contributor Samiha Hossain
Lawyer and activist Rozkar Ibrahim walks past a headstone marked with the word 'grave of life' in an area reserved for the victims of femicide and honor killings, at the Siwan cemetery in Sulaimaniyah, the autonomous Kurdistan region's second city, on May 17. | AFP-JIJI
Lawyer and activist Rozkar Ibrahim, 33, regularly visits a cemetery to uncover gender-based violence (GBV) victims' stories and honor their memory. In the unmarked section of the Siwan cemetery in Sulaimaniyah, the second city of the autonomous Kurdistan region, many of the headstones are blank where women killed by GBV rest. Some are inscribed only with numbers that correspond to forensic records, and the signs have faded with time as wild scrub has covered the tombs.
Intimate partner violence and femicide have long plagued Iraq's conservative society, including through so-called "honor killings" — the murders of women deemed to have breached patriarchal social norms, often at the hands of close relatives. And according to the United Nations, more than 1 million women and girls across Iraq are at risk of GBV.
The gravedigger buries most of these women at night to prevent relatives concerned about their family's reputation from defacing the graves, said Ibrahim, who believes the demeaning anonymous burial should not exist. The Kurdistan regional government in 2020 ordered existing graves be marked with the word "life", and new ones to be engraved with names and birth dates. Othman Saleh, a 55-year-old gravedigger at Siwan, said that in 15 years he had buried about 200 women and girls, some as young as 13, who were violently killed.
Stories of the horrific ways women and girls are killed are much more prevalent than those of perpetrators being held accountable. -Razaw Salihy, Iraq researcher at Amnesty International
Activists say many cases of violence against women go unreported, with victims often wary of reaching out to the authorities or afraid to speak out. At the cemetery in Sulaimaniyah, unmarked plots also serve as final resting places for unidentified women found dead in other parts of the Kurdistan region. Given that victims' personal details are missing from most graves, Ibrahim said one of the only ways to identify them is by matching the numbers on the headstones to records of the Sulaimaniyah forensic department.
People shout slogans during the annual LGBTQ+ Pride March in Istanbul, Turkey, June 30, 2024.
For Iris Mozalar, a young transgender woman living in Istanbul, Pride Week is "more about resistance than celebration" under Turkey's conservative government, which is openly hostile towards the LGBTQ community. During his re-election campaign last year, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and his allies turned the LGBTQ community into his favorite target, railing against them as "perverse" and a threat to traditional family values, with activists saying it triggered an upsurge in hostility towards them.
We are waging a struggle against the police, against the state security apparatus. That's why I can never look at (the Pride march) as a celebration, because frankly we don't have much to celebrate. -Iris Mozalar
Mozalar studies urban planning and works as a DJ and model. Growing up in the southeastern coastal city of Mersin, she was bullied by peers and teachers who knew instinctively there was something different about her. She couldn't really explain it until one day when she was 17, she looked in the mirror and really saw herself for the first time. Moving to Istanbul soon after, Mozalar started the process of transitioning – an "incredibly difficult" process in Turkey, involving months of sessions, examinations and detailed reports by various different medical specialists.
Only a court can approve gender affirming surgery, and after finally winning that, Mozalar began a year-long campaign to raise 90,000 Turkish lira for the operation – at the time around 30 times her rent. The same operation today would cost up to 700,000 lira, an impossible sum for most transgender people, who are often earning the minimum wage. Although she has finally found peace with her identity, society remains largely hostile.
It is an incredible challenge to exist as a trans woman in Turkey. -Iris Mozalar
Although Mozalar rarely feels safe in the streets, the night is when she really comes alive, as a DJ. The places where she performs have to be LGBTQ- and women-friendly. Despite the difficulties, she isn't interested in leaving Turkey to seek asylum elsewhere – she is committed to fighting for her community.
Megan, an LGBTQ rights activist from New Caledonia, holds a New Caledonian flag from the Kanak community (Photo courtesy of Moïse Manoël-Florisse)
Demands for both sexual and political liberation in former French colonies were a theme of this year’s Radical Pride, which was held June 16 in Paris. The event is a radical alternative to the city’s more traditional Pride march which took place this weekend.
This year, the French overseas territories, and in particular Kanaky (the indigenous name for New Caledonia), were in the spotlight as indigenous Kanak anti-colonial activists from the Kanaky Solidarity Collective marched and spoke during the protest. Many Kanak activists are seeking independence for New Caledonia (Kanaky), which is a semi-autonomous French overseas territory northeast of Australia. Kanak activists marched side by side with women and non-binary Afro-Queer people, shouting “Kanaky vivra Kanaky vaincra” (Kanaky will live, Kanaky will win) and “Kanaky indépendante” (Kanaky is independent), and “the days of the colonies in all the overseas territories are over”. Also present were representatives of the Afro-Caribbean group Les Diivines.LGBTQIA+ and a women’s procession of West Indian percussionists.
Erasing 76 Crimes interviewed Pierrette, the founder of Les Diivines.LGBTQIA+ and Megan, an activist with Collectif Solidarité Kanaky who spoke at the conclusion of the march to declare that political and sexual emancipation go hand in hand.
This year our slogan is for self-determination and the liberation of identities and peoples, in the context of the wars, particularly in Gaza. In fact, we wanted a strong slogan so that we could be heard and so that the Afro-Queer community could mobilise in favour of peace in the world and the independence of all the Overseas Territories. -Pierrette
Megan believes that the Melanesian and Oceanian communities suffer from a real lack of visibility in the political and social arena in mainland France. In May, violence erupted in New Caledonia over a French plan to extend voting rights in provincial elections in New Caledonia to people who moved there 10 years ago or more (about 24,000 people from the total population of 270,000). Indigenous Kanak leaders feared that change would dilute their vote, ending their hopes for eventually winning independence from France. When Macron called new elections, parliamentary votes on that proposal were suspended.
Although Emmanuel Macron has announced the suspension of the [plan to expand voting rights] he still follows a logic of colonisation by settlers, so he has not given up his intentions. Hence the continuing mobilisation in New Caledonia. -Megan
Photograph byYagazie Emezi
In a series of portraits, photographer and National Geographic Explorer Yagazie Emezi showed queer and nonconformist Indigenous Nigerians expressing themselves despite repressive laws and societal stigmas. Three stories will be shared in this Roundup where queer and nonconformist Nigerians explain what it means to reclaim their space and break against colonial norms.
Lagos-based filmmakers Ayo Lawson and her partner Uyai Ikpe-Etim are one of the few publicly queer women in Nigeria. They run one of the country’s biggest queer balls. Lawson has found herself shifting away from her English upbringing to develop and connect with her Yoruba self. For Ikpe-Etim, indigeneity means acknowledging that she was born and grew up in Lagos but was raised by Ibibio women from southeastern Nigeria, creating a fusion of culture she treasures.
My favorite thing is being able to have those two identities intersect without any issues. On this day I can be happy to wear an àdìre agbada, and on another day wear an Ibibio onyonyo, and still feel equally connected to these cultures. -Uyai Ikpe-Etim
A queer fashion designer, Jordyn Omololu Vangei was raised connected to his Yoruba culture. But later in his childhood when he moved to live with his father who prioritized English and Western sensibilities, he had to start speaking in English. Vangei, who is a trans man, finds comfort in the understanding that Yoruba history—his history—is filled with figures who defied convention.
Realizing who I am makes me feel better— [that] was the freedom I needed. Being Native is not a sin; it's nothing to be ashamed of. -Jordyn Omololu Vangei
A creative and style nonconformist, Charles Oputa is better known by his artistic alter ego, Charly Boy. He has shifted the scales of masculine presentation in Nigerian media. Oputa’s father was Igbo. As Charly Boy, the younger Oputa found a connection between his spiritual guide and his Indigenous identity, adopting a “spiritual warrior” he calls Odudubariba.
I know [Charly Boy] has a feminine side, with all this personality wanting to come out. Sometimes it's my female side that takes the upper hand. Sometimes it's my male, dominant side that takes the upper hand. -Charles Oputa
Meenakshi Raghavan at the school she runs in Vatakara, Kerala, teaching more than 200 students, mostly girls. Photograph: Nadja Wohlleben
Amid rising crimes against women in India, Meenakshi Raghavan is dedicated to passing on the ancient skills of Kalaripayattu. The 82-year-old teacher is known to all as Sword Granny, as sword fighting is an essential part of Kalaripayattu.
Inside her martial arts school in Vatakara, in the southern Indian state of Kerala, the session begins with prayers and warmup exercises. Then Raghavan takes the class through the precise movements of Kalaripayattu, India’s oldest martial art, their bare feet padding across a floor of red dust mixed with medicinal herbs. Raghavan has built a team of teachers who work alongside her at the Kadathanad Kalari Sangham school, but she has become especially renowned in this region not for her age, but for her focus and commitment to empowering the next generation of young women. They do not charge students.
Kalaripayattu is believed to have begun in the coastal state of Kerala about 5,000 years ago. As European invaders arrived in India with guns and cannon it began to falter in popularity, and was finally banned by India’s British colonial rulers in 1804. But the art form survived underground, experiencing a resurgence in the early 20th century and gaining new life after India’s independence in 1947. Raghavan’s martial arts school was started by Raghavan’s late husband and she took over after his passing.
When young girls and women look at me, they feel inspired that if I can do such a thing at this age, so can they at their age. -Meenakshi Raghavan
Raghavan says self-defence techniques are essential for young women in these times and martial arts is the best way to equip them. For her, the teachings of Kalaripayattu instill self-confidence and mental resilience, crucial in a society where women face systematic marginalisation and violence.
Kalaripayattu plays an important role in building mental strength and self-confidence. Offering girls hope and empowerment…It is not just a skill, it has become a necessity and essential for survival. -Meenakshi Raghavan
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Samiha Hossain (she/her) is an aspiring urban planner studying at Toronto Metropolitan University. Throughout the years, she has worked in nonprofits with survivors of sexual violence and youth. Samiha firmly believes in the power of connecting with people and listening to their stories to create solidarity and heal as a community. She loves learning about the diverse forms of feminist resistance around the world.