Global Roundup: Iran Imprisoned Women’s Rights Activists, Dominica & Antigua and Barbuda Abortion Rights, Camping for Palestine, Tamil LGBTQIA+ Glossary, San Francisco Queer Skate Community
Global Roundup: Iran Imprisoned Women’s Rights Activists, Dominica & Antigua and Barbuda Abortion Rights, Camping for Palestine, Tamil LGBTQIA+ Glossary, San Francisco Queer Skate Community
Curated by FG Contributor Samiha Hossain
Women in Evin prison in Tehran, Iran. Photograph: Morteza Nikoubazl/Reuters
There are fears for the fates of women’s rights activists imprisoned in Iran after a surge in executions since the election of Iran’s new president, Masoud Pezeshkian, in July. At least 87 people were reportedly executed in July, with another 29 executed on one day this month. The mass executions included Reza Rasaei, a young man sentenced to death for his participation in the Woman, Life, Freedom protests. Human rights organisations fear further executions in the lead-up to the second anniversary of Mahsa Amini’s death in custody and the unprecedented nationwide protests that followed.
About 70 women are now reported to be held as political prisoners in Iran’s notorious Evin prison, including two who have been given death sentences: the Iranian Kurdish journalist Pakhshan Azizi and the industrial engineer and women’s rights activist Sharifeh Mohammadi. A further two activists – Varisheh Moradi and Nasim Gholami Simiyari – have been given the same charges but are still to discover if they will be sentenced to death. The Center for Human Rights in Iran (CHRI) said multiple female political prisoners are at risk of executions based on “sham charges”.
The family of Narges Mohammadi, the imprisoned Nobel peace prize winner and celebrated activist, say that she was among the women at Evin prison who were reportedly injured after being beaten by guards for staging a protest in the prison yard against the execution of Rasaei. The family put out a statement saying that after the protests on 6 August, the women’s ward was flooded with prison guards and security agents, and an order was issued to assault the protesters. Several women who stood in front of the security forces were severely beaten.
Azizi and Sharifeh Mohammadi were sentenced to death in July on charges of “armed rebellion against the state”. Azizi, a 40-year-old Kurdish women’s rights activist and social worker, was reportedly subjected to torture during interrogations, including mock executions. Zeinab Bayazidi, a former political prisoner and Azizi’s friend, told the Guardian that the death penalties against women and ethnic minorities were designed to dismantle the unified fight against the regime.
The Islamic Republic is [retaliating against] the Woman, Life, Freedom revolution that spanned all borders from Kurdistan to Balochistan and Tehran, and caused solidarity and empathy and a revolution at this level, which has been unprecedented so far. -Zeinab Bayazidi
Sharifeh Mohammadi, 45, was arrested at her home in Rasht in December 2023, according to human rights activists. Speaking to the Guardian on the condition of anonymity, a close family member said they were shocked and had “never imagined Sharifeh would be issued a death sentence”
Women have been among the strongest individuals standing against the regime during the Woman, Life, Freedom movement. I believe by sentencing Sharifeh and others, they’re taking revenge. -Anonymous
Patricia remembers the death of a mother-of-six from a botched abortion at an unlicensed clinic 10 years ago. It had been almost two decades since Guyana passed ground-breaking abortion reform legislation, yet no public hospitals offered terminations and doctors were not licensed to carry them out. Today, Guyana remains one of few countries in the Caribbean to allow terminations upon request. Most are beholden to colonial-era laws – backed by religious leaders – outlawing them in all but the most extreme circumstances. Despite this, clandestine abortions are prevalent.
Women were still dying of abortions gone wrong. They were using home remedies, bush medicine, unlicensed doctors. The law may have been passed but it took many years for it to be implemented. For me, it was an urgent cause. -Patricia Sheerattan-Bisnauth
Patricia is working alongside regional women’s health charity Aspire. The charity is spearheading legal action in Dominica and Antigua and Barbuda to overturn the 19th-Century Offences Against the Person Act, which stipulates a 10-year prison sentence for a woman who ends a pregnancy. The only exception is when her life is at risk.
When Brianna (not her real name) became pregnant at 19 in Dominica, she knew she was neither financially nor emotionally ready to become a parent. Seven years on, the memory of the secret termination she underwent remains acutely painful. Eventually she found a private doctor willing to carry out the procedure, but at more than $600 (£465) – about an average month’s salary in Dominica – the cost was steep. A nurse took pity on her and loaned her the money. Brianna’s story is far from unique, yet stigma surrounding abortion means she has kept her termination largely to herself.
I was really scared. I wasn’t well versed on how it would work or what would happen to me. I had to lie to get the time off work. And at the doctor’s, they hid me in a room by myself. I felt really isolated, like I was doing something wrong. -Brianna
A study carried out by Aspire indicates that in Antigua, almost three in four women will have a termination by their mid-40s – practically all of them carried out clandestinely. Prosecutions for covert abortions in the Caribbean are rare, but not unheard of. Aspire cites a handful of cases where women, and the healthcare provider helping them, have been charged in the last decade. The Christian Church plays a key role in Caribbean society and religious leaders have spoken out vehemently against the matter, which is due to come before Antigua’s High Court in September.
Awadallah says she comes from an activist family. Her mother and sisters were members of the Union of Palestinian Women’s Committees. In Ramallah, she was involved in organisations to help farmers obtain the right to retain their land. She was also involved in taking Israel to the International Court of Justice, when they were building the West Bank barrier. She says although they won the case, Israel continued to take more land.
When Awadallah came to Sheffield in 2008, she started organising fundraising events with the Palestine Solidarity Campaign to support women’s education in Gaza and also became active in the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement.
We witnessed the silence of the world. The UK voted against or abstained from several votes on UN resolutions demanding a ceasefire before finally voting for one in March. Our people are being killed and nobody is doing anything. I come from a refugee family who were forcibly displaced in 1948 to Gaza, and again from the north of Gaza to Khan Younis. Some of my family have been in tents. -Sahar Awadallah
Awadallah shares her concerns over women’s sexual health in Gaza as women tend to prioritize themselves last. Her camp had three demands: to make Sheffield an Israeli apartheid-free zone – to encourage the BDS movement; for anyone who went to Israel and joined the IDF to be investigated; and a just solution for the Palestinians.
We must keep talking about Palestine…If anybody told me beforehand I would be sleeping outside in a protest camp, I would have said no way. But I think people are capable. We have the abilities and strength, and a purpose – we wanted people to listen. -Sahar Awadallah
Orinam volunteers attend a Pride event at the Sahodaran office in Chennai. Pic courtesy: Orinam.
Two years ago, the Tamil Nadu government in India published a glossary for addressing the LGBTQIA+ community. The development occurred in large part because of the advocacy by queer and trans groups.
Orinam, an LGBTQIA+ support and activist group, has been curating queer and trans Tamil terms for years. They collaborated with Queer Chennai Chronicles and The News Minute to create the official state terminology. The glossary, which contains both Tamil and English words, not just promotes inclusive language but provides individuals a vocabulary to express themselves. The glossary puts forth the Tamil terms such as ‘paal puthumaiyar,’ or queer, ‘thirunangai’ or trans woman, and ‘thirunambi’ or trans man. Historically, there is no distinction between sex and gender. Now, ‘paal’ refers to sex, and ‘paalanam’ refers to gender.
Trans women have historically been much more visible than the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community in Tamil Nadu, as across India. The thinking and vocabulary around trans people largely reflects trans women. Nataraj Narthaki, Bharatanatyam dancer and trans woman, coined the term ‘thirunangai’ around 20 years ago. She pored over Tamil words and literature and pieced together thiru, meaning respectable or divine, and nangai, meaning woman or beauty. Orinam used the suffix ‘nambi,’ or man, to create the term ‘thirunanambi’ for ‘trans man.’ These terms being familiar only in English contributes to the politicisation of sexuality, and the sense that diversity in sexual identity is a Western idea.
People from the conservative mainstream in India say —‘See, there are not even names for people like you (cisgender LGB persons) in Indian culture’, suggesting that such identities are merely a result of some misguided youths watching too much MTV or Hollywood. -Dr. L Ramakrishnan, volunteer for Orinam
For young people trying to come out to their parents, especially those who are not English-speaking, the glossary serves as an official reference point. Orinam also created YouTube videos featuring Tamil Nadu locals speaking in Tamil to educate parents and families in hopes of bridging the gap between generations.
The past decade has brought about many legal protections for queer and trans people. Still, activists are continuing to push for the development of language and social acceptance. News Minute and Queer Chennai Chronicles are working to develop LGBTQ+ terms in more local languages, beyond Tamil, for example. Tarun (not his real name), an Orinam volunteer and man of trans experience, believes that change cannot come quickly enough.
We want things to happen at a faster pace, so that the younger generation of queer and trans kids need not suffer as much as I or any other senior queer or trans person has suffered in our life. But, that is also a distant dream. -Tarun
Sean Carabarin / Cher Strauberry
Last weekend, Unity Skateboarding founders Jeffrey Cheung and Gabriel Ramirez brought their community together for the opening of Unity Through Skateboarding at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.
Unity Through Skateboarding highlights queer, trans, BIPOC, and women skaters, as well as the diverse communities that have shaped the sport. According to Cheung, the exhibition features 140 photographs, four hours of video, a skateable object, 48 boards, ten original artworks, magazines, zines, and printed ephemera from over the last few decades. It's also just the start of queer and trans people getting their flowers in the skate world, a male-dominated scene rife with homophobia, transphobia, and misogyny. Cheung spoke to Dazed about highlighting the queer skate community and using skateboarding as a tool to break down barriers.
Cheung discusses how he and Ramirez wanted to showcase a lot of the people who made a difference in skateboarding to them, from all the crews, DIY zines, brands, skaters, photographers, and videos. The two started Unity in 2012 when they first met. What started as a small zine press has now become a queer skateboarding collective that hosts meetups and events – including the first Unity Fest last October.
I wanted to start something because I grew up skating and loved it, but there was hardly any mainstream queer representation or support in skateboarding that I knew of. I wanted Unity Skateboarding to be something that could be that, at least for a short period of time on a small scale, but here we are still doing it all these years later. -Jeffrey Cheung
What Cheung and Ramirez want to highlight through the exhibition is the true spirit of skateboarding and how it brings people together, breaks down barriers, and how skateboarders are able to make changes in and out of the skate world.
This show is about the first women to go pro, the first Black skaters to go pro, the first queer-owned brands, and the few Black trans women in pro skateboarding. This show is about skaters in Palestine and how, despite the ongoing genocide and occupation, they are still skateboarding in Gaza on top of bombed buildings. This show is about how resilient and resourceful skateboarders are and how we are all connected. This show is about making your own spaces and platforms when no one else will. -Jeffrey Cheung
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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.
Love these talk backs about the 500 years of modernity bordering communities for social order (land and labor) that relies on the threat of warehousing the wanaichi (the people) in dreadful places designed to terrorize and separate linguistically from the story.
What amazing stories of brave and wild people.