In Bogotá during Colombia’s national strike, two women hold placards that say, “We didn’t give birth to children of war” and “They got firearms, we got fire in our soul” / credit: Antonio Cascio
“Far too many women are fighting—not only for their rights, but for the rights of all,” says Yomali Torres, an Afro-Colombian activist. The 26-year-old joined throngs of women in the streets of Colombia over the past month to demand an end to patriarchal oppression at the hands of a U.S.-backed neoliberal state.
Women’s presence in Colombia’s national strike—both as activists and as victims—has caught the world’s attention. Many have spoken out against police violence and sexual abuse during the current demonstrations. This, however, is not a new issue. Police, armed forces and illegal groups have used women’s bodies as weapons of war for decades.
The strike, which marks its 1-month anniversary today, continues unabated. It started as a response to a tax reform project that would have devastated middle- and low-income households. Yet, this is not the core of social discontent among Colombians. This is clear as the strike continues, even after the president called on Congress to withdraw the tax reform bill.
At the end of 2019, Colombia saw mass mobilizations of diverse sectors of society, who expressed their discontent with the government of President Iván Duque. Among the criticisms were his ineffective economic, social, and environmental policies, the lack of implementation of a peace treaty with militant group Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), and the numerous assassinations of social leaders, among others. According to Colombian state agency Investigation and Accusation Unity (Unidad de Investigación y Acusación), 904 leaders were assassinated between December 2016 and April 2021.
Gender Violence
Historically, conflict and social inequalities have most affected women. Violence and sexual abuse are commonly wielded to gain control over the territories women and their communities inhabit, as well as their natural resources. The High Commissioner for Human Rights released a document in 2005 indicating 52 percent of displaced women reported having suffered some type of physical abuse and 36 percent had been forced by strangers to have sexual intercourse.
A group of protesters from the first line stand behind their homemade shields during a Bogotá demonstration as Colombia’s national strike continues. Among them, the “First Line Mothers,” a group of mothers who stand together against police violence / credit Antonio Cascio
In a context of multiple violations of human rights—including extrajudicial killings, disappeared persons, torture, arbitrary detentions and use of firearms—gender violence continues to be deployed against the population during the national strike. Colombia’s Department of Protection of Citizen’s Rights has reported 106 cases of gender violence, of which 23 are acts of sexual violence.
With slogans such as “The revolution would be feminist, or it will not be,” “Not one less,” and “With me, whatever you want—but with her, nothing,” protesters have rejected violence against women, while drawing attention to gender inequalities.
One of the cases that has generated widespread indignation involved a 17-year-old girl from Popayan, who committed suicide after having been arrested by police. Before taking her own life, she wrote a statement accusing four members of the riot police of sexual assault. The girl had posted on Facebook police only released her after learning she was the daughter of a police officer.
Feminist Groups and their Demands
Women have taken to the streets, demanding equal access to education, healthcare and employment. They have assumed leading roles as human-rights observers, front-line defenders and community organizers. As a result, human rights groups—formed mostly by women—have suffered acts of intimidation and violence.
Silhouette of a woman in front of a fire on the streets of Bogotá during Colombia’s national strike / credit: Antonio Cascio
“We received death threats from the riot police. They told us they did not want us alive,” says Isabella Galvis of the Waman Iware Human Rights Collective. “At the moment, we do not have guarantees. They are using firearms during the protests, which is illegal under Colombian law.”
Feminist organizations move ahead despite the challenges, having organized multiple events. On May 10, a coalition of 173 feminist groups presented a list of proposals during the current crisis.
These proposals included:
A call for negotiation including all groups involved in the protests,
an exercise of justice regarding human-rights violations, and
a universal basic income that prioritizes women affected by the pandemic, among others.
The Women Who Are Most Vulnerable to Inequalities and Violence
Afro-Colombians and Indigenous peoples have been affected—directly or indirectly—by racism during the protests. Calí, the city where police have exercised the most repression, has experienced the highest number of deaths during the strike. It also has the highest concentration of Afro-Colombian communities, according to the National Administrative Department of Statistics.
An Afro-Colombian woman standing on the first line during a demonstration in Bogotá held during Colombia’s national strike / credit: Antonio Cascio
The high level of inequality puts Calí at the center of these protests. Afro-Colombian people contend with uneven opportunities in the areas of education, healthcare and employment. That means the reforms the government has proposed would strongly affect Afro-Colombians, and women in particular.
“We are here commemorating Afro-Colombians today. We want to fight for our future and our rights,” explains Maria Niza Obregón, a 17-year-old Afro-Colombian girl, who supports the protests. “We want to live, not to survive.”
A clear example of this was the fate of the government’s health reform, which sank after the first 20 days of protests. The regions with the highest concentration of Afro-Colombians and Indigenous peoples also have the poorest health systems in the country, according to a report by organization Así Vamos en Salud.
Yomali Torres, a 26-year-old member of Afro-Colombian human-rights and peace organization Cococauca, denounces the lack of hospitals and specialists in her territory on the Pacific Coast of Cauca.
“If someone has chest pain, the patient has to be transferred to Calí or Popayan,” Torres says. “If we do not die, it is thanks to ancestral medicine.”
Afro-Colombian women have been particularly outspoken during the national strike, especially in Calí.
Torres condemns the violations of the rights of women, and of the Colombian population in general.
“In one way or another, we are taking advantage of the strike to demand justice for all of the women who have been raped, beaten and disappeared,” Torres says.
The United Nations states Indigenous and Afro-Colombian women have been affected disproportionately by the violence derived from the conflict. “Among 3,445 cases of murder in Indigenous and Afro-Colombian individuals, 65.5 percent were women,” the UN reports.
As a sign of indignation, the community of Guapi organized on May 7 an event called, “The Last Night.” With traditional cultural expressions, they commemorated those who have given their lives fighting for the rights of Afro-Colombians and the entire country. This celebration was carried out with artistic representations of graves and singing alabaos, or ancestral songs for the dead.
A month after the first call for a national strike, the different sectors of society are far from calling off the protests. This comes even as protesters’ blockades have generated a shortage of goods in certain communities. As Torres says, “We will not give up, because boats are not arriving with goods. Historically, we have felt hunger for more than 200 years. For us, this is not a real challenge.”
Natalia Torres Garzongraduated with an M.Sc. in Globalization and Development from the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, United Kingdom. She is a freelance journalist who focuses on social and political issues in Latin America, especially in connection to Indigenous communities, women and the environment. With photographer Antonio Cascio, she founded the radio-photography program, Radio Rodando. Her work has been published in the section Planeta Futuro from El País, New Internationalist and Earth Island.
Afghan women line up at a World Food Program distribution point / credit: United Nations photo licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
Editor’s Note: This article is the first in a series Toward Freedom has launched to examine the real impact and reasons for U.S. “humanitarian interventions.”
From the U.S. military intervention launched under the banner of democracy and human rights to restored warlords and the resuscitated Taliban regime, Afghan women have never stopped fighting for their rights.
When Taliban forces entered Kabul on August 15, appearing to have taken control of Afghanistan two weeks before the United States was set to complete its troop withdrawal, shock and fear for women’s fate under the Islamist group’s repressive rule quickly multiplied inside the country and globally.
After nearly 20 years of a U.S.-led coalition’s presence, a costly two-decade war, the very force the United States had tried to push out of power, in the name of its “War on Terror,” took over again. This time it occurred with stunning rapidity, in the wake of U.S. President Joe Biden’s hasty, chaotic military withdrawal.
With the U.S. exit from Afghanistan, hundreds of thousands of Afghan nationals were abandoned at the mercy of the Taliban, amid concern the fundamentalist movement would re-impose its hard-line interpretation of Islamic law on women and girls.
But securing women’s rights was used from the beginning to justify the U.S. military intervention. The Biden administration’s irresponsible pull-out in tandem with the swift, untroubled Taliban return speaks volumes about Washington’s lack of interest to secure respect for human rights and improve women’s lives. Humanitarian interventions have been used to deploy U.S. troops and drones in Iraq, Libya, Syria and other countries. As a consequence, 1 million people have been killed and an estimated 38 million have been forced to become refugees.
Condemning Humanitarian Interventions
The Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan (RAWA), the oldest feminist organization in Afghanistan, stated in its response to the Taliban takeover: “It is a joke to say values like ‘women’s rights,’ ‘democracy,’ ‘nation-building,’ etc., were part of the U.S./NATO aims in Afghanistan!”
On International Human Rights Day, December 10, 2003, Afghan women of the Revolutionary Association of Women of Afghanistan (RAWA) marched to the UN headquarters in Islamabad, Pakistan. The sign states in Persian: “Down with the Northern Alliance, power to the Afghan people!” / credit: RAWA
The women’s association mentioned the United States’ geostrategic motives for its invasion, namely causing regional instability to encircle its rival powers, China and Russia in particular, and to undermine their economies via regional wars.
“Right from the start, RAWA members have been saying that freedom can’t be brought through bombs, war and violence,” Sonali Kolhatkar, co-director of the Afghan Women’s Mission (AWM), a U.S.-based organization that funds RAWA’s work, told Toward Freedom. “How can they liberate women while they’re killing their husbands, brothers and fathers?”
Afghan women have long known that the U.S.-staged war on terrorism—and any foreign meddling—was not going to make their country safer. Women took the brunt of the backlash of war, military invasion and, again, today’s uncertain aftermath.
“[Afghan women] have always rejected outside interference, and maintained that Afghans need to fight for their freedom from inside,” Kolhatkar said.
For decades, active women have been at the forefront of opposing fundamentalism, warlordism and imperialism in Afghanistan.
Leading political activist and human-rights advocate Malalai Joya publicly denounced the presence of warlords and war criminals in the Afghan parliament in 2003 while serving as a member of parliament (MP), which resulted in her dismissal. An outspoken critic of the United States and NATO, she has continued to denounce the 20-year U.S./Western occupation. She has condemned U.S.-led drone attacks and bombings, clandestine raids carried out by U.S. and Afghan special forces into civilian homes, all of which have killed thousands of Afghans.
Between 2001 and 2020, more than 46,000 civilians were killed and 5.9 million Afghans displaced as a result of the war’s ongoing violence.
U.S. Brings Taliban Back to Power
Activists at the Afghan Women’s Network (AWN), an NGO launched in the mid-1990s, have criticized the United States for allegedly bribing and empowering warlords, then resuscitating the Taliban’s power in the 2020 U.S.-led negotiations in Doha, which translated into replacing one fundamentalist regime in Afghanistan with another.
“I do not understand the United States for undoing and now redoing the Taliban in Afghanistan, whose ruling will affect women’s lives the most, which will be ruined yet again,” prominent human-rights activist Mahbooba Seraj, member of AWN, said in a interview with TRT World.
Talking to Toward Freedom, Alia Rasoully, an Afghan based in the United States who founded WISE Afghanistan, an organization that aims to provide women access to health and education, underlined how the Doha talks were conducted solely in the United States’ interest. She said many Afghans are not aware of the agreement’s details.
“Afghan women feel betrayed,” Rasoully said. “Although some women were included in the negotiations, none of their demands for basic human and Islamic rights are being met today.”
On April 28, 2003—known as the Black Day to commemorate the day the Taliban seized Kabul in 1992—other Afghan organizations joined RAWA in a demonstration / credit: RAWA
Spozhmay Maseed, a U.S.-based Afghan rights activist, deplored the seemingly unconcerned U.S. pull-out. “It was shocking to everyone,” she told Toward Freedom. “U.S. forces were combating terrorists for 20 years, today they’re dealing with them. Who were they fighting then? What was that fight for?”
RAWA member Salma, whose real name must be concealed to protect her security, relayed similar concerns to Toward Freedom.
“The U.S. invasion of Afghanistan after 9/11 was a military operation orchestrated by the CIA that brought in Northern Alliance puppet leaders, who are as extremist and misogynist as the Taliban, and painted them as ‘democratic’ and ‘liberal,’” she said.
“What’s the result of these 20 years?” Salma asked. “[The United States] spent more than $2 trillion on the war to bring back the same Taliban, and it turned the country into a corrupt, drug-mafia and unsafe place, especially for women.”
The façade of democracy the United States had poured trillions of dollars into maintaining was lifted when former President Ashraf Ghani abandoned the presidential palace on August 15 by reportedly dashing onto a helicopter with close to $200 million in tow.
“How breakable that ‘democracy’ was, and how rotten the U.S.-backed puppet government was!” Salma asserted.
The Work of RAWA
On its website, RAWA has documented through its reports, photos and videos the horrific conditions facing Afghan women at the hands of the mujahideen and the Taliban, as well as the destruction and bloodshed during the U.S. occupation, which was rarely reported in the media.
“This indigenous women’s movement had long been trying to draw international attention to the atrocities against their people, in particular the ultra-woman-hating acts they were witnessing,” AWM’s Kolhatkar stressed. “It was only after September 11, when the world discovered there were terrible things happening to women in Afghanistan.”
Unlike many other Afghans, RAWA members have stayed, striving to give voice to the deprived women of Afghanistan in the struggle for women’s rights.
RAWA, which was established in 1977 as an independent political organization of Afghan women struggling for women’s rights, is driven by the belief that only a democratic, secular government can ensure security, independence and equality among Afghan people. It became involved in the struggle for resistance following the Soviet intervention called for by the then-socialist government of Afghanistan in 1979. Over the last four decades, RAWA spoke out against the anti-Soviet resistance (known as mujahideen) in the 1980s, fought against the Taliban regime in the mid-1990s, denounced the role of the Pakistani state in creating the Taliban and has rejected the U.S. occupation of the last 20 years.
The women’s organization has been involved in various social and political activities to include literacy classes, schools for girls and boys in villages and remote areas, health and income-generation projects for women to help them financially, and political agitation. It has also worked with refugee Afghan women and children in Pakistan, running nursing, literacy and vocational training courses. In 1981, it launched a bilingual magazine in Persian and Pashto, Payam-e-Zan (Woman’s Message), spreading social and political awareness among Afghan women.
Due to its pro-democracy, pro-secularist and anti-fundamentalist stance, RAWA has always operated as a clandestine organization, including in the last two decades under the U.S. occupation and the so-called “democratic government,” which it never recognized.
Using pseudonyms, concealing their identities, turning their homes into office spaces, often changing locations to avoid attention, its members have been active in different areas across Afghanistan. They would run underground schools for girls and women where they would use their burqa as a way to hide their books, and disseminate copies of Woman’s Message, secretly aiming to raise awareness among women of their rights and change their minds.
As an unregistered organization carrying out political work and home-schooling, if authorities found about its existence and illicit activity they could react punitively with any member caught up.
Since the assassination of its founder, Meena Kamal, the feminist association has been working more underground as anyone openly identified as member would risk being arrested or even killed. Despite it becoming increasingly dangerous to organize, the movement continues to stand.
“This is the time our women need us the most in Afghanistan,” Salma said. “We have to continue to be the voice of the voiceless who are here.”
Women’s Rights at What Cost?
Afghan women saw improvement in their lives over the past 20 years in terms of access to education, healthcare and employment, as well as economic, social and political empowerment. But the gap between urban centers and rural areas never really narrowed. In rural areas, where it is estimated 76 percent of Afghanistan’s women reside, women still rely on men in their families for permission to attend school and work. Girls are typically allowed to have primary or secondary education, then their families proceed with arranged marriages. In 2020, as little as 29.8 percent of women could read and write.
An Afghan family in a village near Chagcharan Ghor province in 2007 / credit: Vida Urbonaite, Lithuania
“Progress was slower in rural areas,” Rasoully remarked. “We worked hard in advocating to convince parents that their girls could safely go to school in a very culturally appropriate environment that they were comfortable with.”
She called for greater efforts to address the urban-rural divide, noting the international community made the mistake of taking an inequitable approach to offering educational opportunities to Afghan girls, as it directed its programs at young women in cities.
In her view, the insecurity brought on by the war into rural communities was a major impediment that kept girls out of school and prevented women from working.
Many villages experienced for years the devastation of heavy fighting between the Taliban, foreign militaries, government forces and local militias. The loss of husbands, brothers and fathers to the war further compromised women’s ability to go about everyday life.
A woman with her brother are busy drawing water from a river in Afghanistan in 2009 / credit: David Elmore, United States
Salma made clear progress in women’s status in the past two decades has been the result of a “natural process.” During that time, Afghan women acquired basic freedoms that had been withheld from them under the Taliban regime. But the foreign military presence could not be credited for that.
Kolhatkar specified that while the United States had boots on the ground in Afghanistan and it supported women’s rights on paper, the United States allowed the opposite in practice by “working with fundamentalists every step of the way.”
She explicitly said the issue of women’s rights was never a concern for Washington. Rather, it was a pretext to make its long, protracted occupation “palatable.”
“RAWA had been warning the Americans since the early phase of the invasion not to embrace the Taliban, nor the warlords,” Kolhatkar, AWM’s joint director, reminded. “It shouldn’t at all surprise us that the U.S. administration finally left Afghanistan, with misogynist hardliners in charge once again.”
With the Taliban back in control on August 15, a wave of civil resistance mainly was initiated by Afghan women. The protests have built momentum, hitting different parts of the war-ravaged country in the last month.
Further, a new generation has grown up in a country that is connected to the rest of the world through the Internet. That has increased political and social awareness among the general public, especially among young people.
Today, groups of women—small and large—are disobeying Taliban restrictions, protesting in Herat, Kabul, Mazar-e Sharif and other Afghan cities to demand their fundamental rights. They are bravely defying the extremist group, refusing the idea of returning to the grim days that women lived through.
Under the Taliban’s previous rule (1996-2001), the Islamist militants enforced strict rules on women and girls, forcing them to cover their bodies from head to toe, prohibiting them from leaving home without a male family member, and banning them from going to school or work. If they did not abide by the rules, they could face severe punishment, such as imprisonment, torture or execution.
Rasoully expressed concern that the progress made by 35 million Afghans throughout the last two decades, especially young women and girls, may go to waste. She personally mentored girls in medical school, in areas like Kandahar, over the last five years.
“But today, we are being told girls cannot go to school beyond sixth grade,” she said. “This will take us back to the stone ages.”
Maseed, the U.S.-based Afghan activist, insisted today’s Afghan women are better educated and more politically aware than in the 1990s, and will keep pushing for their rights.
“If women go backward, they think it’s better to come out on the streets and be killed than to follow these regressive rules and die inside every day,” the activist affirmed.
Resisting oppression with exceptional resilience—even under the new Taliban rule—they intend to keep up their struggle. They also are appealing to the international community not to grant recognition to the Taliban as a legitimate political actor.
In the past weeks, Afghan associations and supporters in the diaspora have joined Afghan women’s calls to refuse to recognize the Taliban. But they also have criticized the U.S. role in creating a disaster, at both political and humanitarian levels. And it is clear from U.S. machinations that ordinary Afghans will suffer starvation with recent efforts at keeping the Taliban from accessing funds stored in foreign banks.
“Perhaps things were better for many Afghan women under a U.S.-supported government, but it is also the United States’ violent intervention, which has led to the situation in Afghanistan today,” Nida Kirmani, a feminist sociologist and professor at Pakistan’s Lahore University of Management Sciences, wrote in a tweet. “One cannot disconnect the two.”
Using women’s rights again as a means of framing US imperialism. Perhaps things were better for many Afghan women under a US-supported government, but it is also the US’s violent intervention, which has led to the situation in Afghanistan today. One cannot disconnect the two. https://t.co/RYNX9COIvL
Alessandra Bajec is a freelance journalist specializing in West Asia and North Africa. Between 2010 and 2011, she lived in Palestine. She was based in Cairo from 2013 to 2017, and since 2018 has been based in Tunis.
Kenyan migrant workers gather on January 11 at their country’s consulate in Beirut to demand repatriation / credit: Middle East Eye / Matt Kynaston
KIENI, Kenya—After traversing rivers, hills, valleys, sharp bends, and swaths of uncultivated land in the drier parts of central Kenya, this reporter arrived in early November to hear Anne Nyambura’s story of abuse at the hands of a Saudi employer.
Nyambura is a 53-year-old mother of five. In 2018, she traveled to Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia, with the promise of being able to send money back home with what she would earn as a domestic worker. But unable to withstand the working conditions, she breached the contract after a year.
“I was allowed to eat for only five minutes, given a lot of work and paid peanuts, contrary on what we had agreed on the contract,” the former domestic worker said. In Saudi Arabia, Nyambura expected to take home $800 per month. Instead, she received $170, or less than 25 percent of the agreed-upon amount. Meanwhile, the same role in Kenya would have earned her $150 each month. And, so, she returned to her homeland emaciated and poorer than before.
“It was a waste of time,” said Nyambura, who is among 100,000 Kenyans who have traveled to the Gulf countries to work, but whose dreams of earning to support their families have placed them in dangerous circumstances.
The International Domestic Workers Federation held a demonstration on June 6, 2014, in front of the United Nations regarding migrant workers’ rights in Qatar / credit: Fish / IDWF
‘Biting Poverty’ Feeds Kafala System
Now back in the Kieni constituency in Kenya’s Nyeri County, Nyambura told Toward Freedom she had nowhere to report the dispute with her Saudi employer because the decades-old Kafala system was at work.
Gulf Cooperation Council states, such as Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, as well as the Arab states of Jordan and Lebanon have abided by the Kafala system to regulate the relationships of migrant workers with employers (“kafeels”), according to the International Labor Organization (ILO). It has been in place since the 1950s. That is when countries that had experienced a construction boom after discovering oil under their feet needed skilled laborers that they could not find among their lesser educated populations. However, migrant workers have for years aired complaints about the system. “Often the kafeel exerts further control over the migrant worker by confiscating their passport and travel documents, despite legislation in some destination countries that declares this practice illegal,” the ILO states in a policy brief.
Nyambura told Toward Freedom her employer did exactly that, plus took hold of her identification card and mobile phone, among other items.
“The issue of documents being confiscated by the employers is under Saudi Arabian law and we cannot be blamed for that,” said Mwalimu Mwaguzo, a chairperson of the Pwani Welfare Association (PWA), an alliance of 20 private recruitment agencies based in the coastal city of Mombasa. “The Kafala system that people are complaining about was introduced with the Saudi Arabian government to curb running away of domestic workers from their employer and we, as agents, have no authority to eliminate the system.”
But that is not all, according to Nyambura.
“The employer was everything and you, as a worker, have nowhere to take him in case of assault,” she told Toward Freedom, lamenting that sometimes she would get slaps and blows from the employer and that she was denied food for a couple of days.
“Biting poverty fueled by lack of opportunities is compelling many Kenyan women to travel to Saudi Arabia and other Gulf countries to search for greener pastures, but reaching there many regret,” she said in a low, angry tone. “Returning home becomes an added burden.”
Making matters worse, at least 89 Kenyans—most of whom were domestic workers—died in Saudi Arabia between 2020 and 2021, according to Kenyan Foreign Affairs Principal Secretary Macharia Kamau. Their bodies were returned to Kenya or buried as unknown persons in Gulf countries. Plus, organs had been removed from some of the bodies, Kamau reported.
Mwaguzo told Toward Freedom detainees in Saudi deportation centers are either on the run from their employer or are involved in prostitution.
Remittances Flow to Kenya
According to the ILO, the migration and employment system implemented by most countries in the Arab states region is based on a relatively liberal entry policy, restricted rights, and a limited duration of employment contracts and visas.
Kafeels are liable for the conduct and safety of the migrant they bring into the country, and they can exert control over a migrant’s movement and employment.
The ILO Committee of Experts on the Application of Conventions and Recommendations (CEACR), which is responsible for evaluating the application of international labor standards, has noted “the kafala system may be conducive to the exaction of forced labor and has requested that the governments concerned protect migrant workers from abusive practices.”
Meanwhile, Amnesty International has said the situation in Qatar had worsened as it prepared to host the 2022 World Cup using migrant labor.
According to an article published by Global Policy Journal, the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) estimates more than 2.1 million workers in the Gulf from around the world are at risk of exploitation and work under inhumane conditions. In the past, some countries had halted deployment of domestic workers to Saudi Arabia. Such bans improved working conditions, increased salaries and lessened mistreatment.
If the governments of Kenya and other countries halted to deploy their workers in the Gulf, could things change?
Migration to the Gulf continues providing thousands of job opportunities and billions of dollars in remittances. Around $124 billion was remitted in 2017 from countries that adhere to Kafala. Statistics from Central Bank of Kenya (CBK) show remittances from Saudi Arabia have more than doubled in the last two years to Ksh 22.65 billion ($179 million). That amount was sent back home in the first eight months of this year, ranking the Gulf nation as the third-largest source of remittances for Kenya behind the United Kingdom and the United States. However, 2021 remittances marked the fastest growth, with a 144 percent climb since 2020.
Reports of Rape and Torture
As the country continues enjoying remittances from the Gulf, Haki Africa, a human-rights organization headquartered in Mombasa, estimates more than 200,000 Kenyans in Saudi Arabia are working in different companies and homes, and that most are working under inhumane conditions. The organization’s estimate is double that of the Kenyan’s government’s.
Haki Africa Executive Director Hussein Khalid said the Kenyan embassy in Saudi Arabia has been ignoring complaints, fueling the vice.
Khalid said most of the Kenyan women in Saudi Arabia have undergone sexual assault, physical abuse and mental torture. He said, this year alone, the organization has received 51 complaints from domestic workers in Saudi Arabia.
“We would like to urge the government of Kenya to speed up the rescue process for our women who are suffering in Gulf countries and return them home,” Khalid said. “It is the responsibility of any government to ensure that all of its citizens are safe regardless where they are.”
Joy Simiyu, a former domestic worker from Bungoma in rural western Kenya, said her Gulf-based agent declined to speak with her when she needed help. Simiyu’s employer in Saudi Arabia only allowed her to sleep four hours and eat one meal per day. Plus, the terms of the contract weren’t being abided. “[After] reaching Riyadh, I was forced to work for the relatives of the employer.”
She said one day her employer attempted to kill her, but she was able to run away and report the matter to the nearest police station. Then she was then taken to an accommodation center, a location the Saudi government runs to keep migrants before they are deported or while they are looking for work after fleeing another employer.
Now based in Nairobi, the 24-year-old revealed the accommodation center was insecure, as she learned potential employers who visited the site would sexually assault women using the promise of a job. Food, water and electricity were unavailable, too, she said.
“I would like to urge my fellow Kenyans not to go to Saudi Arabia to look for jobs, things are not good there, you better suffer in your country than in other people’s country,” she said with tears rolling down her face. “What is in Saudi Arabia is slavery and not job opportunities.”
Recruitment Agencies: ‘Mother of All Problems’
In July 2021, when appearing before the Labor and Social Welfare Committee, then-Labor Cabinet Secretary Simon Chelugui reported 1,908 distress calls from the Gulf between 2019 and 2021.
While in the Gulf, Nyambura observed governments taking action when workers from different countries contacted them about mistreatment.
“Kenyans in the Gulf are like orphans,” Nyambura said. “They have no one to protect them.
However, the Kenyan government lately appears to be taking action. A few weeks ago, Cabinet Secretary for Foreign and Diaspora Affairs Dr. Alfred Mutua traveled to Riyadh to discuss the domestic-worker issue with Saudi officials. Mutua said the two agreed Kenyan domestic-worker agencies could set up offices in Saudi Arabia to deal with issues concerning their clients. The two countries announced they are collaborating to “flush out” illegal agencies and those that break the law.
“We have to break the cartels and streamline the agencies, some of which are owned by prominent Kenyans,” Mutua told the media. He added his ministry will release a set of new instructions and procedures prospective migrant workers will be required to adhere to and meet before they can be cleared to travel to the Gulf states. The foreign ministry reported hundreds of Kenyans have been repatriated. Mutua and his Saudi counterpart agreed to the formation of a hotline (+96 6500755060) that Kenyan workers can call to report abuse.
Meanwhile, in February, the Qatari government shut down 12 recruitment agencies. The operation came a few days after Central Organization of Trade Union (COTU) Secretary General Francis Atwoli and Qatar Labor Minister Ali Marri held talks in Doha. It is part of a campaign Atwoli is involved in that also has been putting pressure on the governments of Kenya and Saudi Arabia.
Atwoli told Toward Freedom recruitment agencies must be prohibited, calling them the “mother of all problems” facing workers.
“The issue of negotiations on the terms and conditions of workers should be government to government, and not [on] the recruitment agencies,” he told Toward Freedom.
Meanwhile, recruitment agencies oppose the ban of agencies. For instance, Maimuna Hassan of Nairobi-based Asali Commercial Agencies said many people do not talk about the benefits of working through recruitment agencies. Haki Africa Rapid Response Officer Mathias Sipeta urged those aspiring to travel to the Gulf through recruitment agencies to verify them before signing agreements.
Nyambura said Atwoli has been trying to fight for workers’ rights in the Gulf, but that he gets sidetracked by Kenyan politics. She also said he lacks support from the government.
Like Simiyu, Nyambura has concluded it is better to work in Kenya. She pointed to the country’s coffee and tea farms as better options. But seeing for the first time in Kenyan history both a government official and a labor leader holding meetings with Gulf state officials has indicated to some, like Nyambura, that the situation may improve.
“Maybe under the new administration,” the former domestic worker said, “things will change.”
Shadrack Omuka is a freelance journalist based in Kenya. He writes about human rights, climate change, business and education, among other topics. His work has appeared in several publications around the world, such as Equal Times, Financial Mail, New Internationalist, Earth Island and The Continent, among others.
Afro-Colombians from northern Cauca during the May 2021 national strike (Twitter/Renacientes)
Mobilizations took to the streets of Colombia on April 28 in a national strike to protest social injustice and aggressive tax reforms proposed by the Iván Duque government. Student movements, trade unions, young peoples’ organizations, feminist groups, and indigenous and Afro-descendant peoples’ movements marched, blocked roads and held cultural activities in urban centers and rural territories throughout the country, exercising their right to peaceful protest. But the state wasted no time in responding with violent repression, especially in major cities such as Calí, Bogotá, Palmira and Popayán.
Although the vast majority of protests have been peaceful, isolated incidents of looting and violence have been used as an excuse for using excessive force against protesters. Media discourses around “good protesters” and “bad protesters” legitimize this response. Widespread reports of infiltrators are being used to provoke violence and looting, as has been the case in previous strikes in the country. Armed forces reportedly have stood by and allowed looting to take place, only to later respond to such incidents with violent repression.
Rather than heeding the demands of the citizens against the tax reform and social injustice, the state has responded with militarization, turning peaceful demonstrations into scenes of war. Helicopters circle above protest points and communities, while tanks thunder through narrow city streets.
Several cities are occupied by four armed state actors:
armed police,
Escuadrón Móvil Antidisturbios (ESMAD, or Mobile Anti-Riot Squads of the National Police),
military forces and
Grupo Operativo Especial de Seguridad del Cuerpo Nacional de Policía (GOES, or Special Security Task Force of the National Police Force).
Instead of seeking to pacify the situation and protect citizens, these forces have increasingly threatened security, peace and human rights.
Flagrant Human Rights Abuses
Countless videos recorded by protesters and onlookers circulate daily on social media, showing cases of police brutality, indiscriminate shootings, and the use of tear gas inside barrios that contain children and elderly people. Over the past few days, the violence has taken on a new face in Calí, with the presence of plainclothes police officers and reports of unmarked cars carrying out drive-by shootings against protesters.
Bogotá-based non-governmental organization Indepaz reports the following occurred between April 28 and May 8:
47 murders (the majority of whom have been young adults and 4 of whom were minors),
12 cases of sexual violence,
28 eye injuries,
1,876 acts of violence,
963 arbitrary detentions and
548 forced disappearances.
Reports are circulating of people being arrested and denied information of their destination, violating their rights to due process and exposing them to the risk of arbitrary detention, cruel and inhumane treatment, and forced disappearance.
Armed police have threatened lawyers and human-rights defenders when inquiring about missing people at police stations. The international community woke up to the seriousness of the situation when, on May 3, members of a humanitarian mission including UN and state representatives were attacked by armed police while waiting to enter a police station in search of missing people. On April 7, as a humanitarian mission was taking place north of Calí with the presence of Senator Alexander Lopez, a drive-by shooting took place, injuring one person and killing three.
The Racialization of State Repression
The violence and repression has a disproportionate impact on Black communities, only mirroring Colombia’s ongoing internal armed conflict. For example, 35 of the 47 murders Indepaz reported took place in Calí, home to South America’s second-largest Afro-descendant population. No surprise that structural and systemic racism are deeply ingrained in Calí. Many of the most aggressive cases of state violence have been carried out in neighborhoods with majority or significant Afro-descendant populations, treating communities as enemies of war. Historically, these barrios have suffered socio-economic exclusion, further entrenched by the impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic, structural racism and state violence. Many barrio residents already were victims of forced displacement, having fled the armed conflict in the majority Afro-descendant regions of the northern Cauca Department, in which Calí is located, and the Pacific coast.
While official statistics do not reveal the proportion of Black victims in this current wave of police brutality due to a lack of disaggregated data, photos of victims clearly show the disproportionate impact on young Afro-descendant men.
Racial profiling not only underpins state violence, but is central in the denial of state responsibility and impunity. Already, discussions around existing gang violence and urban conflicts are being used to question whether many of these young men participated in the protests or were delinquents killed in the context of the everyday violence in their communities. This discourse no doubt seeks to reduce the numbers of protest-related deaths, simultaneously justifying the deaths of young Black men. The first death registered in Calí took place in the majority Black barrio, Marroquin II, where a 22-year-old man was killed. But the military later denied his death was related to the protests.
Militarization, Imperialism and the Protests
The current situation in Colombia cannot be understood in isolation from the wider armed conflict and the ever-deepening neoliberal agenda supported and sustained by the United States and multinationals that feed off Colombia’s natural resources. U.S. imperialist interests in the region have been clear since the late 19th century, with the attempted invasion of Colombia’s neighbor, Panama, in 1885 and the start of the Panama Canal project in 1904. In 1948, the Organization of American States was created during a meeting in Colombia.
Colombia has been the strategic point for Washington’s political, economic and military operations in recent decades. Thanks to U.S. technical and logistical support, Colombia is now one of the greatest military powers in the region. With the 1999 signing of Plan Colombia and the 2002 Patriot Plan, U.S. military presence and influence has only deepened.
Further, U.S. military support has always depended on state policies that benefited U.S. imperial interests. For example, in 2009 the United States signed an agreement with the Uribe Government to be able to operate from seven Colombian military bases. Although this agreement was blocked by the Constitutional Court, the Santos government later arrived at alternative bilateral agreements. These enabled access and use of the bases in practice, and further facilitated the fruitless and dangerous strategy of spraying the herbicide, glyphosate, on illicit crops. All of this sustains the ideology of the “internal enemy” and the terrorist threat that underpinned the original emergence and expansion of paramilitarism in the 1980s.
It is precisely this paramilitarism model the Colombian state is using in the context of the current protests, particularly in Calí, where state agents, often without proper identification, collaborate with civilians to shoot and kill protesters from high-end cars. The Indigenous Guard, accompanying the protests in Calí, have suffered several attacks of this kind, most recently on May 9, when eight people were wounded.
This violent state repression is yet another consequence of imperialist intervention and the extractivist neoliberal project that uses militarism to eliminate a historically racialized population it considers residual as well as a threat to the capitalist, white-supremacist order.
Esther Ojulari is a human-rights and racial-justice activist and sociologist. She is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of London, writing on transitional justice and reparations for the Afro-descendant people in Colombia. She worked for eight years as a consultant in the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) on Afro-descendant rights. Esther is currently Regional Coordinator in Buenaventura, Calí and Northern Cauca for the Consultancy for Human Rights and Displacement (CODHES). She is a member of several Afro-descendant and African-led international networks and coalitions.
Harrinson Cuero Campaz is a Afro-Colombian rights activist. He is a Ph.D. candidate writing on sustainability in urban and regional planning for biologically and culturally diverse territories. He is a social activist and member of the Proceso de Comunidades Negras (PCN, or Black Communities Process). Harrinson currently works as regional representative of Consultancy for Human Rights and Displacement (CODHES) and as a coordinator for the formulation of the Special Territorial Plan of the District of Buenaventura 2021-40.
