Sustaining Power – Contemporary Women’s Struggles in South Asia
When, how, and why do women’s struggles succeed in retaining power and sustaining their gains against backlash? Over the past four years, SuPWR has undertaken research with 16 women’s struggles in Bangladesh, India, Nepal and Pakistan to examine this question.
This exhibition showcases art and imagery that centres the voices from these women’s rights movements and speaks of their multi-faceted struggles and successes amid growing anti-gender backlash. It bears witness to the resilience of women’s movements, their expressions of collective joy but also about their struggles and pain. Viewer discretion is advised.
© Photo credit: Comrade Aqib Hussain, Member of National Trade Union Federation (NTUF)
Members of the Home-based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) are seen laughing while exchanging experiences after a study circle held in Gadap town, Karachi, Pakistan, in September 2021. Study circles play an important role in strengthening the movement’s ideology. These are spaces where members cultivate an understanding of theoretical concepts such as Marxism, Communism, Leninist theory.
Members of the Home-based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) are seen laughing while exchanging experiences after a study circle held in Gadap town, Karachi, Pakistan, in September 2021. Study circles play an important role in strengthening the movement’s ideology. These are spaces where members cultivate an understanding of theoretical concepts such as Marxism, Communism, Leninist theory.
© SuPWR
The Home Based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) is a registered trade union for organising and advancing the labour and economic rights of HBWWs in Pakistan. This short video outlines their struggle, the backlash they face and the gains they have made so far.
The Home Based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) is a registered trade union for organising and advancing the labour and economic rights of HBWWs in Pakistan. This short video outlines their struggle, the backlash they face and the gains they have made so far.
© Photo credit: Comrade Nasir Mansoor, General Secretary, National Trade Union Federation (NTUF)
Every year on May 1st - Pakistan Labour Day - members of the Home-Based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) organise rallies to protest oppressive power structures and demand legal rights, such as registration of workers with social security departments. The banner that workers are holding says “Women will be free if they are free from oppressive labour. Salute to the martyrs of Labour Day. If women are enslaved, entire society is enslaved. Discrimination based on gender, harassment of women workers, and unequal wages should be abolished; home-based women workers should be registered with social security departments.”
Every year on May 1st - Pakistan Labour Day - members of the Home-Based Women Workers Federation (HBWWF) organise rallies to protest oppressive power structures and demand legal rights, such as registration of workers with social security departments. The banner that workers are holding says “Women will be free if they are free from oppressive labour. Salute to the martyrs of Labour Day. If women are enslaved, entire society is enslaved. Discrimination based on gender, harassment of women workers, and unequal wages should be abolished; home-based women workers should be registered with social security departments.”
© Photo: BMMA; Design: Gulal Salil
The slogan translates to ‘The Four Pillars of Islam – Justice, Equality, Widom and Compassion’. BMMA has been actively propagating positive and liberal interpretations of Islam in line with feminist values of justice, equity, and human rights and the Indian Constitution. To fight against gender discriminatory practices such as instant divorce (triple talaq), polygamy, and halala, they have been at the forefront of re-defining Muslim personal laws through their campaign to codify Muslim family law, training and equipping Muslim women in Islamic jurisprudence to adjudicate in Muslim family matters from an Islamic feminist perspective. In the ongoing climate of communalism, BMMA has also been raising Muslim women’s citizenship rights in India.
The slogan translates to ‘The Four Pillars of Islam – Justice, Equality, Widom and Compassion’. BMMA has been actively propagating positive and liberal interpretations of Islam in line with feminist values of justice, equity, and human rights and the Indian Constitution. To fight against gender discriminatory practices such as instant divorce (triple talaq), polygamy, and halala, they have been at the forefront of re-defining Muslim personal laws through their campaign to codify Muslim family law, training and equipping Muslim women in Islamic jurisprudence to adjudicate in Muslim family matters from an Islamic feminist perspective. In the ongoing climate of communalism, BMMA has also been raising Muslim women’s citizenship rights in India.
© SuPWR
Bharatiya Muslim Mahila Andolan (BMMA) is an autonomous, secular, rights-based mass organisation led by Muslim women to fight for the citizenship rights of the Muslims in India. The movement aims to alleviate conditions of marginalisation of Muslim women through reforms internally, as well as ensure equal social, economic, political, civil, legal and religious rights as upheld by the Constitution of India. This video highlights the work of BMMA and how they are playing a key role in shaping SuPWR's understandings around how women's movements in India sustain themselves and continue to hold onto their gains amidst various kinds of backlash.
Bharatiya Muslim Mahila Andolan (BMMA) is an autonomous, secular, rights-based mass organisation led by Muslim women to fight for the citizenship rights of the Muslims in India. The movement aims to alleviate conditions of marginalisation of Muslim women through reforms internally, as well as ensure equal social, economic, political, civil, legal and religious rights as upheld by the Constitution of India. This video highlights the work of BMMA and how they are playing a key role in shaping SuPWR's understandings around how women's movements in India sustain themselves and continue to hold onto their gains amidst various kinds of backlash.
© Photo: BMMA; Design: Gulal Salil
Having trained women qazis in feminist Islamic jurisprudence, BMMA has established women led Sharia Adalats as alternative dispute resolution forums to challenge patriarchal interpretation of the Quran in relation to personal laws. Their initiatives include demanding access and entry of Muslim women to Islamic sacred spaces, such as the Haji Ali Dargah. BMMA also focuses on issues of education, livelihood, health, and social security keeping in view the very low development indicators for Muslim women across India. It mobilises Muslim women at the grassroots and advocates for change by acting as pressure groups before local authorities and demand immediate action. BMMA also focus on youth leadership and skill training through Karwaan Centres for girls and boys.
Having trained women qazis in feminist Islamic jurisprudence, BMMA has established women led Sharia Adalats as alternative dispute resolution forums to challenge patriarchal interpretation of the Quran in relation to personal laws. Their initiatives include demanding access and entry of Muslim women to Islamic sacred spaces, such as the Haji Ali Dargah. BMMA also focuses on issues of education, livelihood, health, and social security keeping in view the very low development indicators for Muslim women across India. It mobilises Muslim women at the grassroots and advocates for change by acting as pressure groups before local authorities and demand immediate action. BMMA also focus on youth leadership and skill training through Karwaan Centres for girls and boys.
© Photo Credit: Taslima Akhter, BGWS
In 2023, the Mojuri Briddhite Garment Shromik Andolon (MBGSA) (Garment workers movement for increasing wage) fought to increase the basic wage for the ready-made garment (RMG) sector to 25000 BDT (approximately USD 210). They took a strong stance on the responsibility of employers and the state to ensure a decent wage. The minimum wage has increased several times, on each occasion after workers took to the streets. But Bangladeshi RMG wages are still some of the lowest in the world. And high inflation means that in real terms, wages may have declined. Despite commitments made by leading brands and buyers to ensure decent wages for workers, comprehensive efforts have yet to be made to follow through on this commitment.
In 2023, the Mojuri Briddhite Garment Shromik Andolon (MBGSA) (Garment workers movement for increasing wage) fought to increase the basic wage for the ready-made garment (RMG) sector to 25000 BDT (approximately USD 210). They took a strong stance on the responsibility of employers and the state to ensure a decent wage. The minimum wage has increased several times, on each occasion after workers took to the streets. But Bangladeshi RMG wages are still some of the lowest in the world. And high inflation means that in real terms, wages may have declined. Despite commitments made by leading brands and buyers to ensure decent wages for workers, comprehensive efforts have yet to be made to follow through on this commitment.
© RMG Workers Wages Movement
This short video, created as part of the SuPWR research, examines the Ready-Made Garment (RMG) worker's movement for a fair wage in Bangladesh. It captures the framing of the movement's demands, the struggle for higher wages, and the backlash faced by protesters.
This short video, created as part of the SuPWR research, examines the Ready-Made Garment (RMG) worker's movement for a fair wage in Bangladesh. It captures the framing of the movement's demands, the struggle for higher wages, and the backlash faced by protesters.
© Photo Credit: Taslima Akhter, BGWS
In April 2013, the collapse of the Rana Plaza building in Dhaka, Bangladesh, which housed five garment factories, killed at least 1,132 people and injured more than 2,500. Only five months earlier, at least 112 workers lost their lives, trapped inside the burning Tazreen Fashions factory on the outskirts of Dhaka. These disasters awoke the world to the poor labour conditions faced by workers in the ready-made garment sector in Bangladesh. To ensure that this disaster lives on in public memory Bangladesh Garment Workers Solidarity organises annual commemorations with workers in their areas as part of their efforts to ensure living wages, health, safety and decent working conditions.
In April 2013, the collapse of the Rana Plaza building in Dhaka, Bangladesh, which housed five garment factories, killed at least 1,132 people and injured more than 2,500. Only five months earlier, at least 112 workers lost their lives, trapped inside the burning Tazreen Fashions factory on the outskirts of Dhaka. These disasters awoke the world to the poor labour conditions faced by workers in the ready-made garment sector in Bangladesh. To ensure that this disaster lives on in public memory Bangladesh Garment Workers Solidarity organises annual commemorations with workers in their areas as part of their efforts to ensure living wages, health, safety and decent working conditions.
© Photo credit: JMMS
Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) member at a rally demanding decriminalisation of sex work organised in Kathmandu, Nepal on 17 December, the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. The placard says, ‘Sex Work is Work; Trafficking is a Crime’. JMMS campaigns for recognition of sex work as an occupation and the decriminalisation of consensual sex work and faces significant backlash, including threats, violence, and societal stigma for their campaign.
Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) member at a rally demanding decriminalisation of sex work organised in Kathmandu, Nepal on 17 December, the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. The placard says, ‘Sex Work is Work; Trafficking is a Crime’. JMMS campaigns for recognition of sex work as an occupation and the decriminalisation of consensual sex work and faces significant backlash, including threats, violence, and societal stigma for their campaign.
© JMMS member
"One day, around 1 pm in the afternoon, I was returning home. On the way, I saw a flower that resembled cotton in the bed of grass. Whenever the wind blew, the cotton flower blew away. It looked very beautiful. I also plucked one of the flowers and caught it in between my fingers and started to blow into the flower. While doing so, a few of the flower’s buds flew away from the stem, but a few remained intact on the stem itself. I could relate this to the challenges that arise in our lives. While some go away, many others remain, for example, our society, families and state." CARE Nepal used Photovoice, a participatory photography approach, to enable members of the Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) movement to visually document and reflect on their struggles and collective aspirations, fostering both dialogue and awareness. This photo was taken by one of the JMMS members as part of the PhotoVoice process. The photos and captions created by JMMS members highlight the unique perspectives on struggle, resilience, and transformation within the JMMS community, capturing struggle members’ voices and conveying powerful narratives of hope and strength. View the full PhotoVoice gallery
"One day, around 1 pm in the afternoon, I was returning home. On the way, I saw a flower that resembled cotton in the bed of grass. Whenever the wind blew, the cotton flower blew away. It looked very beautiful. I also plucked one of the flowers and caught it in between my fingers and started to blow into the flower. While doing so, a few of the flower’s buds flew away from the stem, but a few remained intact on the stem itself. I could relate this to the challenges that arise in our lives. While some go away, many others remain, for example, our society, families and state." CARE Nepal used Photovoice, a participatory photography approach, to enable members of the Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) movement to visually document and reflect on their struggles and collective aspirations, fostering both dialogue and awareness. This photo was taken by one of the JMMS members as part of the PhotoVoice process. The photos and captions created by JMMS members highlight the unique perspectives on struggle, resilience, and transformation within the JMMS community, capturing struggle members’ voices and conveying powerful narratives of hope and strength. View the full PhotoVoice gallery
© Photo credit: CARE Nepal
Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) members depicted their advocacy through artwork and words at a mela (fair) as part of a SuPWR reflective workshop in Nepal in May 2023. Recognition of sex work as an occupation and the decriminalisation of consensual sex work is a major ask of JMMS highlighted in the artworks.
Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangh (JMMS) members depicted their advocacy through artwork and words at a mela (fair) as part of a SuPWR reflective workshop in Nepal in May 2023. Recognition of sex work as an occupation and the decriminalisation of consensual sex work is a major ask of JMMS highlighted in the artworks.
© Artist: Supriya Gurung
Faith. I created this piece after a very long and thorough conversation with Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangha. The talks about their struggles really left a deep impression on me. This whole painting represents their struggle, their empowerment as well as their undeniable and unbreakable willingness for change.
Faith. I created this piece after a very long and thorough conversation with Jagriti Mahila Maha Sangha. The talks about their struggles really left a deep impression on me. This whole painting represents their struggle, their empowerment as well as their undeniable and unbreakable willingness for change.
© Photo credit: Aurat March, Lahore
This installation at the 2021 Aurat March in Lahore, Pakistan was called Pidarshahi k Dhabbay (The Stains of Patriarchy). It brings together accounts of women and girls, mentioning the age, along with other details, at which they first encountered patriarchy, whether it be in the form of violence, harassment, emotional abuse or denial of freedoms. This installation received backlash as men at the march tried pulling these clothes down.
This installation at the 2021 Aurat March in Lahore, Pakistan was called Pidarshahi k Dhabbay (The Stains of Patriarchy). It brings together accounts of women and girls, mentioning the age, along with other details, at which they first encountered patriarchy, whether it be in the form of violence, harassment, emotional abuse or denial of freedoms. This installation received backlash as men at the march tried pulling these clothes down.
© Aurat March Lahore
The first Aurat March (AM) took place in 2018, but the movement became more organised in 2019, focusing on taking up public space, building feminist solidarities and expressing joy, anger, grief. In 2020, the theme was self-determination. In 2021, as the global pandemic pulled focus to vulnerabilities and injustices, AM in Lahore drafted a feminist manifesto on healthcare. The 2022 theme was reimagining justice through a feminist lens. In 2023, with the backdrop of devastating floods, eroding trans rights, and state violence, AM focused on economic and climate justice, and security and safety for all. In 2024, AM outlined their vision of a feminist liberatory future. AM's politics are defined not solely by what they oppose, but by the hope of what could be.
The first Aurat March (AM) took place in 2018, but the movement became more organised in 2019, focusing on taking up public space, building feminist solidarities and expressing joy, anger, grief. In 2020, the theme was self-determination. In 2021, as the global pandemic pulled focus to vulnerabilities and injustices, AM in Lahore drafted a feminist manifesto on healthcare. The 2022 theme was reimagining justice through a feminist lens. In 2023, with the backdrop of devastating floods, eroding trans rights, and state violence, AM focused on economic and climate justice, and security and safety for all. In 2024, AM outlined their vision of a feminist liberatory future. AM's politics are defined not solely by what they oppose, but by the hope of what could be.
© Photo credit: Aurat March, Lahore
The MeToo blanket was a red blanket carried by participants of the 2021 Aurat March (AM) in Lahore, Pakistan. This red cloth had stories of violence, abuse, and pain painted all over it by various people. The blanket received a lot of backlash and subsequently was also used to allege false blasphemy allegations against the Aurat March.
The MeToo blanket was a red blanket carried by participants of the 2021 Aurat March (AM) in Lahore, Pakistan. This red cloth had stories of violence, abuse, and pain painted all over it by various people. The blanket received a lot of backlash and subsequently was also used to allege false blasphemy allegations against the Aurat March.
© Photo: SMS; Design: Gulal Salil
Women in Bhavnagar have united under the banner of Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) to reflect on their aspirations and address barriers such as gender- and caste-based violence, issues with public infrastructure like water, and the interconnections between these challenges. The decentralised structure of the Sangathan at the village and area levels, along with a steering committee of core members and cluster leaders, allows close monitoring of grassroots issues while facilitating collective deliberation on matters affecting multiple communities. Women often face harassment and are sidelined in community discussions. SMS works to elevate women leaders and promote equality, yet backlash persists. Single and widowed women are particularly vulnerable to witchcraft accusations aimed at seizing their property. Despite support from the Nyay Samiti of SMS, societal stigma remains strong, and women’s activism is frequently criticised, highlighting deep-rooted patriarchy and gender inequality.
Women in Bhavnagar have united under the banner of Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) to reflect on their aspirations and address barriers such as gender- and caste-based violence, issues with public infrastructure like water, and the interconnections between these challenges. The decentralised structure of the Sangathan at the village and area levels, along with a steering committee of core members and cluster leaders, allows close monitoring of grassroots issues while facilitating collective deliberation on matters affecting multiple communities. Women often face harassment and are sidelined in community discussions. SMS works to elevate women leaders and promote equality, yet backlash persists. Single and widowed women are particularly vulnerable to witchcraft accusations aimed at seizing their property. Despite support from the Nyay Samiti of SMS, societal stigma remains strong, and women’s activism is frequently criticised, highlighting deep-rooted patriarchy and gender inequality.
© SuPWR
This short video highlights the work of Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) and how Nyay Samiti (Justice Committee) deals with the various forms of violence against women in Bhavnagar, Gujarat. The film also shares insights on how the members sustain the movement and its gains in the face of various forms of backlash from their families and community.
This short video highlights the work of Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) and how Nyay Samiti (Justice Committee) deals with the various forms of violence against women in Bhavnagar, Gujarat. The film also shares insights on how the members sustain the movement and its gains in the face of various forms of backlash from their families and community.
© Photo: SMS; Design: Gulal Salil
Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) organises village-level faliya (hamlet) meetings to raise awareness of women’s land rights, available resources, and the role of SMS, particularly the Nyay Samiti, in mitigating violence against women and facilitating gender-just resolutions. The Nyay Samiti collaborates with local government bodies to enhance accountability and effectiveness, enabling better responses to the challenges women face in their communities. Additionally, partnerships with government departments improve access to support and ensure women’s needs are represented in policy discussions. Emphasising teamwork, SMS focuses on training women leaders, particularly those facing multiple marginalisations, to expand their agency and capacity to negotiate.
Samarthan Mahila Sangathan (SMS) organises village-level faliya (hamlet) meetings to raise awareness of women’s land rights, available resources, and the role of SMS, particularly the Nyay Samiti, in mitigating violence against women and facilitating gender-just resolutions. The Nyay Samiti collaborates with local government bodies to enhance accountability and effectiveness, enabling better responses to the challenges women face in their communities. Additionally, partnerships with government departments improve access to support and ensure women’s needs are represented in policy discussions. Emphasising teamwork, SMS focuses on training women leaders, particularly those facing multiple marginalisations, to expand their agency and capacity to negotiate.
© Photo credit: CARE Nepal
Girls Rights Forum (GRF) Vice Chairperson, Sadhika, shares her experience of participating in the SuPWR reflective workshop held in Nepal in May 2023. She highlighted how the workshop helped build capacity and co-construct knowledge to strengthen advocacy efforts of GRF through the use of innovative participatory and reflective methodologies.
Girls Rights Forum (GRF) Vice Chairperson, Sadhika, shares her experience of participating in the SuPWR reflective workshop held in Nepal in May 2023. She highlighted how the workshop helped build capacity and co-construct knowledge to strengthen advocacy efforts of GRF through the use of innovative participatory and reflective methodologies.
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Empowering Girls' Lives: Preventing Child Marriage
Empowering Girls' Lives: Preventing Child Marriage
© Photo credit: GRF
Members of the Girls' Rights Forum (GRF) in Nepal use artwork to depict their approaches to transforming harmful social norms. In this drawing, the artist portrays various approaches that GRF uses to raise awareness on harmful social norms, including peer to peer mentorship, street plays among others.
Members of the Girls' Rights Forum (GRF) in Nepal use artwork to depict their approaches to transforming harmful social norms. In this drawing, the artist portrays various approaches that GRF uses to raise awareness on harmful social norms, including peer to peer mentorship, street plays among others.
© Artist: Supriya Gurung
The World Outside the Window / Jhyal bahira ko sansar. I struggled a lot in the initial phase of this painting. Scrambling through my brain for ideas, concepts, what to draw, how to draw, what emotions to portray. In this painting I’ve shown the depressing reality of women. Isolated, refrained and held back. Yet trying to break free for the life they want to build for themselves.
The World Outside the Window / Jhyal bahira ko sansar. I struggled a lot in the initial phase of this painting. Scrambling through my brain for ideas, concepts, what to draw, how to draw, what emotions to portray. In this painting I’ve shown the depressing reality of women. Isolated, refrained and held back. Yet trying to break free for the life they want to build for themselves.
© Photo credit: BRAC
In a society where availability of sanitary napkins in schools is rare, the first sanitary napkin vending machine in Jamalpur, Bangladesh was installed through a youth-led initiative by BRAC through Right Here Right Now (RHRN). A meeting with the teachers, school management committee and the local administration identified the fact that girls skip school during their periods, increasing the chances of them dropping out of education. So, RHRN youth members and general students raised BDT 40,000 through their consistent efforts and multiple fundraising campaigns to set up a vending machine. This initiative not only dismantled the social taboo surrounding menstrual hygiene management, but also inspired other schools to take similar initiatives.
In a society where availability of sanitary napkins in schools is rare, the first sanitary napkin vending machine in Jamalpur, Bangladesh was installed through a youth-led initiative by BRAC through Right Here Right Now (RHRN). A meeting with the teachers, school management committee and the local administration identified the fact that girls skip school during their periods, increasing the chances of them dropping out of education. So, RHRN youth members and general students raised BDT 40,000 through their consistent efforts and multiple fundraising campaigns to set up a vending machine. This initiative not only dismantled the social taboo surrounding menstrual hygiene management, but also inspired other schools to take similar initiatives.
© SuPWR
In Bangladesh, adolescents face limited access to accurate information on sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR). Despite many interventions there are significant challenges to imparting the required knowledge. This short video examines the struggle towards incorporating Comprehensive Sexuality Education in Bangladesh. 'Right Here Right Now' has been working with adolescents as their beneficiaries, with an aim to involve the youth themselves in enabling access to comprehensive sexuality education. This video looks at how 'Tarunner Konthoswor (Voice of Youth)', a group of adolescents and youth working at district and sub-district levels, is advocating for their SRHR.
In Bangladesh, adolescents face limited access to accurate information on sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR). Despite many interventions there are significant challenges to imparting the required knowledge. This short video examines the struggle towards incorporating Comprehensive Sexuality Education in Bangladesh. 'Right Here Right Now' has been working with adolescents as their beneficiaries, with an aim to involve the youth themselves in enabling access to comprehensive sexuality education. This video looks at how 'Tarunner Konthoswor (Voice of Youth)', a group of adolescents and youth working at district and sub-district levels, is advocating for their SRHR.
© Photo credit: BRAC
Addressing the need for social inclusion and ensuring the civil rights of third gender, or Hijra community, is one of the key activities of the Right Here Right Now (RHRN) project. As the ‘Hijra’ communities in Bangladesh face major challenges in entering formal education and finding employment due to social stigma and prejudice, they earn their living by begging or collecting money. This increases the negative perception and fear towards them, creating a vicious circle of negligence and social exclusion. Through meaningful dialogue between the RHRN coalition and government stakeholders, training on food processing was organised by the Department of Women Affairs to help people of the third gender generate income and become self-reliant.
Addressing the need for social inclusion and ensuring the civil rights of third gender, or Hijra community, is one of the key activities of the Right Here Right Now (RHRN) project. As the ‘Hijra’ communities in Bangladesh face major challenges in entering formal education and finding employment due to social stigma and prejudice, they earn their living by begging or collecting money. This increases the negative perception and fear towards them, creating a vicious circle of negligence and social exclusion. Through meaningful dialogue between the RHRN coalition and government stakeholders, training on food processing was organised by the Department of Women Affairs to help people of the third gender generate income and become self-reliant.
© Photo: KAVM:, Design: Gulal Salil
Adivasi Vikas Manch (AVM) engages in public campaigns for farmers' and forest rights on social protection and access to public facilities, with a particular focus on promoting Adivasi women’s representation. AVM actively participated in the Jawabdehi Andolan, demanding state accountability in public services and grievance redressal to strengthen social protection initiatives in Rajasthan. The Jawabdehi Andolan is organised by the Soochna Evam Rozgar Abhiyaan (Information and Employment Campaign) in Rajasthan, in which AVM is a key member. AVM has played a crucial role in fostering women’s leadership in Kotra, mobilizing women on issues of jal jungle jameen, and local political participation. Through its interventions, AVM has gained the trust of women’s families, helping women address mobility constraints and other familial challenges.
Adivasi Vikas Manch (AVM) engages in public campaigns for farmers' and forest rights on social protection and access to public facilities, with a particular focus on promoting Adivasi women’s representation. AVM actively participated in the Jawabdehi Andolan, demanding state accountability in public services and grievance redressal to strengthen social protection initiatives in Rajasthan. The Jawabdehi Andolan is organised by the Soochna Evam Rozgar Abhiyaan (Information and Employment Campaign) in Rajasthan, in which AVM is a key member. AVM has played a crucial role in fostering women’s leadership in Kotra, mobilizing women on issues of jal jungle jameen, and local political participation. Through its interventions, AVM has gained the trust of women’s families, helping women address mobility constraints and other familial challenges.
©
Step by Step... Towards Change
Step by Step... Towards Change
© Photo: KAVM; Design: Gulal Salil
The Shilalekh (stone inscription) symbolises Adivasi rights under the Panchayati Raj Extension to Scheduled Areas (PESA) Act, emphasising the community’s pursuit of Gaon Gandrajya (village self-governance) and cultural preservation. AVM has fostered women’s leadership by reviving Gaon Sabhas, promoting political awareness and participation in local issues. Initiatives like Strengthening Women Through Electoral Process (SWEEP) and Pre-Election Voting Awareness Campaign (PEVAC) prepare women for roles in electoral processes. AVM faces resistance from men in the community due to its focus on women’s empowerment, resulting in backlash against women’s participation in training and leadership. Women leaders and sarpanches often face vilification and harassment, with mobility stigmatised as promiscuity. Local powerholders seek to undermine their authority, expecting women to be passive leaders controlled by men. This dynamic perpetuates gender inequality, as men actively monitor women’s involvement in training to maintain traditional roles.
The Shilalekh (stone inscription) symbolises Adivasi rights under the Panchayati Raj Extension to Scheduled Areas (PESA) Act, emphasising the community’s pursuit of Gaon Gandrajya (village self-governance) and cultural preservation. AVM has fostered women’s leadership by reviving Gaon Sabhas, promoting political awareness and participation in local issues. Initiatives like Strengthening Women Through Electoral Process (SWEEP) and Pre-Election Voting Awareness Campaign (PEVAC) prepare women for roles in electoral processes. AVM faces resistance from men in the community due to its focus on women’s empowerment, resulting in backlash against women’s participation in training and leadership. Women leaders and sarpanches often face vilification and harassment, with mobility stigmatised as promiscuity. Local powerholders seek to undermine their authority, expecting women to be passive leaders controlled by men. This dynamic perpetuates gender inequality, as men actively monitor women’s involvement in training to maintain traditional roles.
© Photo credit: NMES
Leaders of Nepal Mahila Ekata Samaj (NMES) protest against a forced eviction notice, using their platform to demand justice for landless women. Such protests not only raise public awareness but also pressure local authorities to recognise the rights of landless women and protect them from unjust evictions.
Leaders of Nepal Mahila Ekata Samaj (NMES) protest against a forced eviction notice, using their platform to demand justice for landless women. Such protests not only raise public awareness but also pressure local authorities to recognise the rights of landless women and protect them from unjust evictions.
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Resilience and Rights: The Story of Informal Settlers in Nepal
Resilience and Rights: The Story of Informal Settlers in Nepal
© Photo credit: CARE Nepal
On 26 January 2024, members of Nepal Mahila Ekata Samaj (NMES) performed a forum theatre in an informal settlement in Godawari, Lalitpur. The performance highlighted the backlashes faced by these communities, including forced eviction threats and stigmatisation by state entities. NMES, which advocates for land rights, safe shelter, and economic empowerment, brought to life the lived experiences of the community, engaging participants and raising awareness of their struggles. The event was well-received by the community.
On 26 January 2024, members of Nepal Mahila Ekata Samaj (NMES) performed a forum theatre in an informal settlement in Godawari, Lalitpur. The performance highlighted the backlashes faced by these communities, including forced eviction threats and stigmatisation by state entities. NMES, which advocates for land rights, safe shelter, and economic empowerment, brought to life the lived experiences of the community, engaging participants and raising awareness of their struggles. The event was well-received by the community.
© Artist: Supriya Gurung
My Brick Palace / mero itta ko mahal. The very thing I love about this painting and its concept is the fact that they’re not opting for a bigger housing or a luxurious lifestyle but to live happily where they are and how theyre living. A small basti (settlement) is what we see but for them its their world, their mahal (palace). They’re empowering and a great role model for their future generations. In this painting I’ve shown how they live, their want for a stable shelter and some empowering aspects such as women conducting meetings, protesting etc. If you look closely you’re sure to find a lot of symbolic things in this painting.
My Brick Palace / mero itta ko mahal. The very thing I love about this painting and its concept is the fact that they’re not opting for a bigger housing or a luxurious lifestyle but to live happily where they are and how theyre living. A small basti (settlement) is what we see but for them its their world, their mahal (palace). They’re empowering and a great role model for their future generations. In this painting I’ve shown how they live, their want for a stable shelter and some empowering aspects such as women conducting meetings, protesting etc. If you look closely you’re sure to find a lot of symbolic things in this painting.
© Image credit: IDEAS
A ‘Power Map’ produced as part of SuPWR’s work with the Child Rights Movement (CRM) in Pakistan. Such maps were produced by each struggle, the aim of which was to identify the main actors that act as allies or as opponents of a struggle, and the power that they hold vis-a-vis each other. It was produced during focus group discussions (FGDs) with struggle members, and allowed them to identify potential strategies for engagement.
A ‘Power Map’ produced as part of SuPWR’s work with the Child Rights Movement (CRM) in Pakistan. Such maps were produced by each struggle, the aim of which was to identify the main actors that act as allies or as opponents of a struggle, and the power that they hold vis-a-vis each other. It was produced during focus group discussions (FGDs) with struggle members, and allowed them to identify potential strategies for engagement.
© Design: IDEAS
Three major court judgements recently have surfaced in Pakistan in relation to the issue of child marriage. The crux of these judgements is that a law to regulate the practice of child marriage is not un-Islamic and is necessary for harmonising the age of marriage for males and females.
Three major court judgements recently have surfaced in Pakistan in relation to the issue of child marriage. The crux of these judgements is that a law to regulate the practice of child marriage is not un-Islamic and is necessary for harmonising the age of marriage for males and females.
© Photo credit: Ehsanul Amin, BLAST
The Rape Law Reform Coalition (RLRC) in Bangladesh organised a discussion titled "Legal Reform to Ensure Justice for Rape: Compensation, Witness Protection and Prohibition of Character Evidence" at The Daily Star Center in Dhaka on 17 November 2024. Such discussions, which bring together politicians, senior government officials, legal experts, human rights and women’s rights activists, allow for an exchange of views and consensus building on the reforms needed. Coalition members are then able to follow up with proposals and drafts to move the law reform process forward. Media coverage of such events contributes to building public opinion in favour of ensuring justice for rape survivors.
The Rape Law Reform Coalition (RLRC) in Bangladesh organised a discussion titled "Legal Reform to Ensure Justice for Rape: Compensation, Witness Protection and Prohibition of Character Evidence" at The Daily Star Center in Dhaka on 17 November 2024. Such discussions, which bring together politicians, senior government officials, legal experts, human rights and women’s rights activists, allow for an exchange of views and consensus building on the reforms needed. Coalition members are then able to follow up with proposals and drafts to move the law reform process forward. Media coverage of such events contributes to building public opinion in favour of ensuring justice for rape survivors.
© Photo credit: Mahmud Hossain Opu, Dhaka Tribune
In order to make their demands visible the Rape Law Reform Coalition (RLRC) in Bangladesh organises street protests, often in response to various incidences of rape. On 10 October 2020, RLRC members held a demonstration in front of Parliament to protest a spate of incidences of rape that had taken place all over the country. The Coalition was joined by young feminists who had formed an alliance called “Feminists Across Generations” to “Rage Against Rape”. Protesters held up placards with slogans demanding fair trials for rape, emancipation and not protection, and emphasising that it is the rapist who must be blamed for the act, not the victim.
In order to make their demands visible the Rape Law Reform Coalition (RLRC) in Bangladesh organises street protests, often in response to various incidences of rape. On 10 October 2020, RLRC members held a demonstration in front of Parliament to protest a spate of incidences of rape that had taken place all over the country. The Coalition was joined by young feminists who had formed an alliance called “Feminists Across Generations” to “Rage Against Rape”. Protesters held up placards with slogans demanding fair trials for rape, emancipation and not protection, and emphasising that it is the rapist who must be blamed for the act, not the victim.
© Photo: CSCD; Design: Gulal Salil
Community for Social Change and Development (CSCD) is a vital space for women domestic workers, particularly migrants, to socialize and build support networks in the city. Leaders engage with national networks, such as the National Platform for Domestic Workers (NPDW), to advocate for rights and protections. Key demands include social security, encompassing maternity benefits and creche facilities; a violence-free workplace; gender-sensitive and supportive infrastructure at worksites; decent working conditions — such as better wages and weekly time off; and safety and insurance against occupational risks and health hazards.
Community for Social Change and Development (CSCD) is a vital space for women domestic workers, particularly migrants, to socialize and build support networks in the city. Leaders engage with national networks, such as the National Platform for Domestic Workers (NPDW), to advocate for rights and protections. Key demands include social security, encompassing maternity benefits and creche facilities; a violence-free workplace; gender-sensitive and supportive infrastructure at worksites; decent working conditions — such as better wages and weekly time off; and safety and insurance against occupational risks and health hazards.
© Photo: Chandrika Makwana; Design: Gulal Salil
Domestic workers play essential roles in our daily lives but often face undervaluation and marginalisation. They lack recognition, fair wages, and protection due to inadequate state support, resulting in precarious conditions. Limited childcare options often force women to leave young children at home. Stigmatised and fearing job loss, domestic workers frequently lack the bargaining power needed to demand their rights. This fear also impacts their families, who may not support collectivisation, while competition among workers further discourages engagement in organising efforts. In collaboration with the One Stop Sakhi Centre, Community for Social Change and Development (CSCD) addresses domestic violence, maintains daily case records, and provides training on legal rights and grievance redressal. The organisation promotes a collaborative structure, ensuring shared responsibilities and equal leadership among members.
Domestic workers play essential roles in our daily lives but often face undervaluation and marginalisation. They lack recognition, fair wages, and protection due to inadequate state support, resulting in precarious conditions. Limited childcare options often force women to leave young children at home. Stigmatised and fearing job loss, domestic workers frequently lack the bargaining power needed to demand their rights. This fear also impacts their families, who may not support collectivisation, while competition among workers further discourages engagement in organising efforts. In collaboration with the One Stop Sakhi Centre, Community for Social Change and Development (CSCD) addresses domestic violence, maintains daily case records, and provides training on legal rights and grievance redressal. The organisation promotes a collaborative structure, ensuring shared responsibilities and equal leadership among members.
© Photo credit: NAWHRD
On 22 August 2024, representatives of the National Alliance of Women Human Rights Defenders (NAWHRD) in Nepal organised a candlelight march to honour Dr Moumita Debnath, who tragically died after a brutal rape in Kolkata, India on 7 August 2024. The march was a powerful call for justice, raising awareness of gender-based violence and demanding accountability for such horrific crimes, while standing in solidarity with victims everywhere.
On 22 August 2024, representatives of the National Alliance of Women Human Rights Defenders (NAWHRD) in Nepal organised a candlelight march to honour Dr Moumita Debnath, who tragically died after a brutal rape in Kolkata, India on 7 August 2024. The march was a powerful call for justice, raising awareness of gender-based violence and demanding accountability for such horrific crimes, while standing in solidarity with victims everywhere.
© Photo credit: CARE Nepal
At the SuPWR reflective workshop in Nepal in May 2023, members of National Alliance of Women Human Rights Defenders (NAWHRD) depicted their advocacy through artwork and words as part of the mela (fair). The mela aimed to highlight the major asks of various participating struggles from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Nepal.
At the SuPWR reflective workshop in Nepal in May 2023, members of National Alliance of Women Human Rights Defenders (NAWHRD) depicted their advocacy through artwork and words as part of the mela (fair). The mela aimed to highlight the major asks of various participating struggles from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Nepal.
© Artist: Supriya Gurung
From Every Corner, We Rise / gau gau bata utha. If I haven’t said this before then I’ll say it again. Receiving all this projects and having a conversation with the key members of each organisation left a very deep impression on me. To realize how priviledged we are as a society and as a woman myself . It was saddening to picture the brutality of violence people are going through but it sure is assuring to know theres a bigger organisation opting to change the very grotesque fate of women. Fighting for the injustice faced by each and every Nepali woman from all 77 districts and empowering them as well. That is why for this painting I inclined more on showing the equity between women belonging in LGBTQ+ community, women of color, disability, from rural areas as well as urban areas and the very roles of women in our society.
From Every Corner, We Rise / gau gau bata utha. If I haven’t said this before then I’ll say it again. Receiving all this projects and having a conversation with the key members of each organisation left a very deep impression on me. To realize how priviledged we are as a society and as a woman myself . It was saddening to picture the brutality of violence people are going through but it sure is assuring to know theres a bigger organisation opting to change the very grotesque fate of women. Fighting for the injustice faced by each and every Nepali woman from all 77 districts and empowering them as well. That is why for this painting I inclined more on showing the equity between women belonging in LGBTQ+ community, women of color, disability, from rural areas as well as urban areas and the very roles of women in our society.
© Photo credit: CARE Bangladesh
Arpita (15) wants to be a scientist when she grows up. But her dream of education comes with real-life challenges, including restrictions in mobility and freedom of expression. As she fights to break gender stereotypes that girls are not capable enough to pursue science, her mother supports her dreams, despite the patriarchal society. CARE’s Tipping Point aims to address the root causes of child and forced marriage in South Asia, providing a safe space for girls like Arpita to pursue their dreams. For Arpita’s dreams, only the sky is the limit.
Arpita (15) wants to be a scientist when she grows up. But her dream of education comes with real-life challenges, including restrictions in mobility and freedom of expression. As she fights to break gender stereotypes that girls are not capable enough to pursue science, her mother supports her dreams, despite the patriarchal society. CARE’s Tipping Point aims to address the root causes of child and forced marriage in South Asia, providing a safe space for girls like Arpita to pursue their dreams. For Arpita’s dreams, only the sky is the limit.
© Photo credit: CARE Bangladesh
Under the Tipping Point project of CARE Bangladesh, gender transformative work is done through the inclusion of women in sports. The young girls under the Tipping Point project organised women’s football matches and paved their way forward by breaking barriers for women in sports. These young women find inspiration from the national women’s football team, who made it evident through their success that with equal rights and opportunities, women can also excel in sports. These girls believe that, given the right opportunities, protection from early and forced marriages, and proper investment in their skills, their dream of gender equality in sports can be a reality. CARE is a member and the lead of the Girls not Brides (GNB) Coalition, Bangladesh.
Under the Tipping Point project of CARE Bangladesh, gender transformative work is done through the inclusion of women in sports. The young girls under the Tipping Point project organised women’s football matches and paved their way forward by breaking barriers for women in sports. These young women find inspiration from the national women’s football team, who made it evident through their success that with equal rights and opportunities, women can also excel in sports. These girls believe that, given the right opportunities, protection from early and forced marriages, and proper investment in their skills, their dream of gender equality in sports can be a reality. CARE is a member and the lead of the Girls not Brides (GNB) Coalition, Bangladesh.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
The Hazara community faced a brutal reality as violence surged, leaving countless widows in its wake. With every attack, the weight of loss grew heavier, and the lives of women changed irrevocably. Once vibrant and full of laughter, the atmosphere turned sombre. Women were now told, “You are a community of shaheed,” and smiling was deemed inappropriate. The joy that once filled their gatherings faded into silence, overshadowed by grief. With the increasing number of widows, the community became more polarised. Women were discouraged from wearing makeup or colourful clothing, confined instead to the dark veils that symbolised their mourning. “Modesty” became synonymous with grief, and those who dared to express themselves through vibrant attire were scorned, labelled as immodest by certain religious factions within the community. The culture shifted from a relatively secular environment to one dominated by rigid expectations. Women were not only threatened by unknown terrorists outside, but also by oppressive norms within their own homes. The tribal mindset dictated how they should behave, limiting their freedom and identity. Each day felt like a struggle between their desires and the oppressive forces that sought to control them. In this stifling atmosphere, the women felt trapped. Their once thriving spirit was dulled, as the pressure to conform weighed heavily on their hearts. They whispered to one another about the lives they once lived, where laughter filled the air and colour brightened their world. Now, they navigated a landscape where every smile seemed like a rebellion and every choice a potential danger. Longing for a time when they could embrace their identities without fear, the women clung to hope. They dreamed of a future where their laughter would not be stifled, where their vibrant spirits could shine once again. In the shadows of oppression, they yearned for the freedom to live openly, despite the weight of both terrorism and patriarchal expectations bearing down on them.
The Hazara community faced a brutal reality as violence surged, leaving countless widows in its wake. With every attack, the weight of loss grew heavier, and the lives of women changed irrevocably. Once vibrant and full of laughter, the atmosphere turned sombre. Women were now told, “You are a community of shaheed,” and smiling was deemed inappropriate. The joy that once filled their gatherings faded into silence, overshadowed by grief. With the increasing number of widows, the community became more polarised. Women were discouraged from wearing makeup or colourful clothing, confined instead to the dark veils that symbolised their mourning. “Modesty” became synonymous with grief, and those who dared to express themselves through vibrant attire were scorned, labelled as immodest by certain religious factions within the community. The culture shifted from a relatively secular environment to one dominated by rigid expectations. Women were not only threatened by unknown terrorists outside, but also by oppressive norms within their own homes. The tribal mindset dictated how they should behave, limiting their freedom and identity. Each day felt like a struggle between their desires and the oppressive forces that sought to control them. In this stifling atmosphere, the women felt trapped. Their once thriving spirit was dulled, as the pressure to conform weighed heavily on their hearts. They whispered to one another about the lives they once lived, where laughter filled the air and colour brightened their world. Now, they navigated a landscape where every smile seemed like a rebellion and every choice a potential danger. Longing for a time when they could embrace their identities without fear, the women clung to hope. They dreamed of a future where their laughter would not be stifled, where their vibrant spirits could shine once again. In the shadows of oppression, they yearned for the freedom to live openly, despite the weight of both terrorism and patriarchal expectations bearing down on them.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
Tajwar, the first Hazara woman to grace the radio airwaves, was a revolutionary figure who, like the legendary Hushang, blazed a trail for her community. Born in a time when women were rarely seen in the public sphere, Tajwar’s voice became a beacon of hope and change during the late 1970s to the 1990s. As the first female radio presenter from the Hazara community, Tajwar hosted a special segment called ‘Hazara Time’, where she read letters from her listeners and played Hazaragi songs. Every week, her voice brought joy to her people, who found comfort in hearing their stories and culture reflected back to them. However, her journey was far from easy. Tajwar faced severe backlash from the tribal elders who believed that a woman’s place was not on the air, and certainly not in a position of influence. Yet, Tajwar’s commitment to her community never faltered. She knew that the music and letters she shared were more than entertainment – they were a way to keep the Hazara identity alive. Each song she played was a thread in the rich tapestry of her people’s heritage, and every letter she read allowed the voices of ordinary Hazara men and women to be heard. Through the radio, she gave her people a platform to express their hopes, dreams and struggles. The weight of tribalism and patriarchy bore down on Tajwar, but she continued undeterred. She normalised women’s participation in the media, sacrificing her personal life to pave the way for future generations of Hazara women. Her courage and perseverance broke barriers, challenging the rigid norms of her time. Tajwar’s legacy lives on as a symbol of empowerment, freedom and cultural pride. She didn’t just play songs; she played a vital role in the liberation of Hazara women, proving that a woman’s voice could carry the power of change.
Tajwar, the first Hazara woman to grace the radio airwaves, was a revolutionary figure who, like the legendary Hushang, blazed a trail for her community. Born in a time when women were rarely seen in the public sphere, Tajwar’s voice became a beacon of hope and change during the late 1970s to the 1990s. As the first female radio presenter from the Hazara community, Tajwar hosted a special segment called ‘Hazara Time’, where she read letters from her listeners and played Hazaragi songs. Every week, her voice brought joy to her people, who found comfort in hearing their stories and culture reflected back to them. However, her journey was far from easy. Tajwar faced severe backlash from the tribal elders who believed that a woman’s place was not on the air, and certainly not in a position of influence. Yet, Tajwar’s commitment to her community never faltered. She knew that the music and letters she shared were more than entertainment – they were a way to keep the Hazara identity alive. Each song she played was a thread in the rich tapestry of her people’s heritage, and every letter she read allowed the voices of ordinary Hazara men and women to be heard. Through the radio, she gave her people a platform to express their hopes, dreams and struggles. The weight of tribalism and patriarchy bore down on Tajwar, but she continued undeterred. She normalised women’s participation in the media, sacrificing her personal life to pave the way for future generations of Hazara women. Her courage and perseverance broke barriers, challenging the rigid norms of her time. Tajwar’s legacy lives on as a symbol of empowerment, freedom and cultural pride. She didn’t just play songs; she played a vital role in the liberation of Hazara women, proving that a woman’s voice could carry the power of change.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
Gul Chahra, whose name meant ‘flower-like face,’ was born into a poor Hazara family in Quetta. Despite their hardships, her brother adored her and showered her with love and care. He worked tirelessly as a labourer, making sure Gul Chahra had the small luxuries he could afford, like embroidered clothes and simple jewellery. She was his pride and joy, and in a world filled with uncertainty, their bond was unbreakable. In 2013, Gul Chahra insisted her brother take her to the bazar on Spini Road to buy new clothes. It was a rare moment of joy in a life marred by the growing violence against their people. The Hazara community had long been the target of brutal attacks by terrorist groups that viewed them as ‘kafir’ and had vowed to eliminate them from Balochistan. As a brave advocate for her community, Giul Chahra joined the ranks of Hazara women leading protests against the genocide targeting their people. They stood together, demanding justice and recognition for the violence inflicted upon them, embodying a spirit of resilience reminiscent of Siavash from the Shahnameh. Siavash, known for his unwavering integrity and tragic fate, symbolises innocence and the relentless pursuit of truth amid overwhelming adversity. Just as Siavash faced betrayal and violence, so too did Gul Chahra stand firm against the brutality that sought to silence her community. That fateful day, as they rode through the streets on a motorbike, terror struck. Armed men opened fire on them without warning. Gul Chahra and her brother were killed instantly, gunned down solely because of their Hazara identity. Their bodies lay in the dust, unattended for hours, as fear and apathy gripped the city. Gul Chahra’s death was not just a loss for her family, but for an entire community suffering under the weight of ethnic violence. She became one of the countless victims of a campaign to wipe out the Hazara people from Quetta. The tragedy of her murder symbolised the indiscriminate brutality faced by the Hazaras and highlighted the vulnerability of even the most innocent lives. Though her life was cut short, Gul Chahra’s memory lives on as a testament to the love and care her brother showed her and the senseless cruelty that took them both away. Her bravery and dedication to her community continue to inspire those who fight for justice and recognition, echoing the timeless legacy of Siavash in their struggle against oppression.
Gul Chahra, whose name meant ‘flower-like face,’ was born into a poor Hazara family in Quetta. Despite their hardships, her brother adored her and showered her with love and care. He worked tirelessly as a labourer, making sure Gul Chahra had the small luxuries he could afford, like embroidered clothes and simple jewellery. She was his pride and joy, and in a world filled with uncertainty, their bond was unbreakable. In 2013, Gul Chahra insisted her brother take her to the bazar on Spini Road to buy new clothes. It was a rare moment of joy in a life marred by the growing violence against their people. The Hazara community had long been the target of brutal attacks by terrorist groups that viewed them as ‘kafir’ and had vowed to eliminate them from Balochistan. As a brave advocate for her community, Giul Chahra joined the ranks of Hazara women leading protests against the genocide targeting their people. They stood together, demanding justice and recognition for the violence inflicted upon them, embodying a spirit of resilience reminiscent of Siavash from the Shahnameh. Siavash, known for his unwavering integrity and tragic fate, symbolises innocence and the relentless pursuit of truth amid overwhelming adversity. Just as Siavash faced betrayal and violence, so too did Gul Chahra stand firm against the brutality that sought to silence her community. That fateful day, as they rode through the streets on a motorbike, terror struck. Armed men opened fire on them without warning. Gul Chahra and her brother were killed instantly, gunned down solely because of their Hazara identity. Their bodies lay in the dust, unattended for hours, as fear and apathy gripped the city. Gul Chahra’s death was not just a loss for her family, but for an entire community suffering under the weight of ethnic violence. She became one of the countless victims of a campaign to wipe out the Hazara people from Quetta. The tragedy of her murder symbolised the indiscriminate brutality faced by the Hazaras and highlighted the vulnerability of even the most innocent lives. Though her life was cut short, Gul Chahra’s memory lives on as a testament to the love and care her brother showed her and the senseless cruelty that took them both away. Her bravery and dedication to her community continue to inspire those who fight for justice and recognition, echoing the timeless legacy of Siavash in their struggle against oppression.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
Morwarid was born into the Hazara community, shaped by a history of persecution. Her parents had fled violence in their homeland a century ago, settling in Indo-Pak subcontinent city Quetta to start anew while carrying the weight of past trauma. As an ethnic minority, Morwarid’s family, like others in their tribe, lived in isolation, relying on their own resources. The men, including her father, worked as coal miners, returning home on Fridays to share their earnings. Meanwhile, the women tended to small farms, spun threads, and wove intricate rugs to support their families. Morwarid was different – she had a vision beyond mere survival. While other women worked within their homes, she initiated trade, which people used to call these trader women as ‘Tapali’, selling handwoven rugs in the markets of Iran. These profits not only sustained her family but also funded education, making her tribe among the first Hazara families in Quetta whose children, through perseverance, attended universities and excelled. For Morwarid, this wasn’t just about business – it was an act of defiance against oppression. Her parents had witnessed unimaginable horrors – men slaughtered, women enslaved. She carried these memories like scars, yet she turned pain into purpose. Inspired by the legend of Tahmuras from the ‘Shahnameh’, she saw herself as a leader. While Tahmuras commanded armies, Morwarid wielded her loom, weaving rugs that symbolised the resilience of the Hazara people. Under her leadership, the Tapali women became symbols of empowerment, working not just for survival but for their children’s future. Her children, like others in the community, reached heights their ancestors had never imagined. Though whispers of unrest grew louder in Quetta, Morwarid remained resolute. She left behind a legacy of resilience, ensuring that her people would not just survive but thrive, despite the shadows of their past.
Morwarid was born into the Hazara community, shaped by a history of persecution. Her parents had fled violence in their homeland a century ago, settling in Indo-Pak subcontinent city Quetta to start anew while carrying the weight of past trauma. As an ethnic minority, Morwarid’s family, like others in their tribe, lived in isolation, relying on their own resources. The men, including her father, worked as coal miners, returning home on Fridays to share their earnings. Meanwhile, the women tended to small farms, spun threads, and wove intricate rugs to support their families. Morwarid was different – she had a vision beyond mere survival. While other women worked within their homes, she initiated trade, which people used to call these trader women as ‘Tapali’, selling handwoven rugs in the markets of Iran. These profits not only sustained her family but also funded education, making her tribe among the first Hazara families in Quetta whose children, through perseverance, attended universities and excelled. For Morwarid, this wasn’t just about business – it was an act of defiance against oppression. Her parents had witnessed unimaginable horrors – men slaughtered, women enslaved. She carried these memories like scars, yet she turned pain into purpose. Inspired by the legend of Tahmuras from the ‘Shahnameh’, she saw herself as a leader. While Tahmuras commanded armies, Morwarid wielded her loom, weaving rugs that symbolised the resilience of the Hazara people. Under her leadership, the Tapali women became symbols of empowerment, working not just for survival but for their children’s future. Her children, like others in the community, reached heights their ancestors had never imagined. Though whispers of unrest grew louder in Quetta, Morwarid remained resolute. She left behind a legacy of resilience, ensuring that her people would not just survive but thrive, despite the shadows of their past.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
After receiving the bodies of their loved ones for two decades, Hazara women grew weary of their cries going unheard by the state. Despite organising protests, their voices seemed to vanish into the ether. In response, they decide to unite and form a movement. What began as a grassroots effort in 2001 gained global visibility by 2012. With newfound organisation and determination, they began to make their voices resonate, eventually taking on leadership roles in the struggle for their community. These women firmly believed that the attacks on their community were not decreed by divine forces but were the result of systemic neglect. They demanded accountability from the state for every act of violence, insisting on their fundamental and constitutional rights, including the right to life, dignity and the freedom to express their identity. They sought equal rights for all genders, standing resolutely against oppression. Despite facing backlash from both within and outside the community, the Hazra women’s movement transformed into one of the first feminist movements for equal rights in the region. They fought against online campaigns of humiliation and the judgements they encountered in public spaces. Their struggle was remarkable; they shifted from violent protests to peaceful demonstrations, amplifying their voices in a chorus for justice.
After receiving the bodies of their loved ones for two decades, Hazara women grew weary of their cries going unheard by the state. Despite organising protests, their voices seemed to vanish into the ether. In response, they decide to unite and form a movement. What began as a grassroots effort in 2001 gained global visibility by 2012. With newfound organisation and determination, they began to make their voices resonate, eventually taking on leadership roles in the struggle for their community. These women firmly believed that the attacks on their community were not decreed by divine forces but were the result of systemic neglect. They demanded accountability from the state for every act of violence, insisting on their fundamental and constitutional rights, including the right to life, dignity and the freedom to express their identity. They sought equal rights for all genders, standing resolutely against oppression. Despite facing backlash from both within and outside the community, the Hazra women’s movement transformed into one of the first feminist movements for equal rights in the region. They fought against online campaigns of humiliation and the judgements they encountered in public spaces. Their struggle was remarkable; they shifted from violent protests to peaceful demonstrations, amplifying their voices in a chorus for justice.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
After two decades of relentless persecution, the Hazara community faced an escalating crisis. The number of widows grew, and poverty tightened its grip on families already shattered by violence. In their desperation, women turned to strangers for support, often trusting thise who had ulterior motives. Online, groups of men emerged, luring vulnerable Hazara women with promises of love, only to ensnare them in webs of deceit and blackmail. Within an already oppressed community, Hazara women became victims of a cruel narrative that painted them as morally lacking. The politics surrounding their bodies intensified, with their dignity laid bare for public scrutiny. When the video scandal involving Hidayat Khilji – a non-Hazara man – dominated conversations, it became a catalyst for further humiliation. Videos of Hazara girls circulated online, stripping away their privacy and exposing them to scorn. The shame was profound, leaving families and communities divided. Public spaces, once a refuge, transformed into arenas of judgement and hostility. Hazara women, who had briefly experienced a sense of normalcy, found themselves thrust back into a cycle of marginalisation and oppression. The scandal not only shattered individual lived but ignited tensions within the community, as fear of conflict between Hazaras and non-Hazaras simmered beneath the surface. The online videos served as a painful reminder of their vulnerability, reinforcing stereotypes that portrayed Hazara women as objects of ridicule rather than individuals with rights and dignity. The fear of backlash loomed large, making daily life fraught with anxiety. Once again, these women were caught in a struggle for agency and respect, navigating a world that constantly threatened to strip them of both. In the face of adversity, Hazara women continued to seek resilience, hoping to reclaim their identities in a landscape marred by violence and betrayal. Yet the spectre of conflict hung over them, challenging their pursuit of peace and dignity in a society that refused to see their humanity.
After two decades of relentless persecution, the Hazara community faced an escalating crisis. The number of widows grew, and poverty tightened its grip on families already shattered by violence. In their desperation, women turned to strangers for support, often trusting thise who had ulterior motives. Online, groups of men emerged, luring vulnerable Hazara women with promises of love, only to ensnare them in webs of deceit and blackmail. Within an already oppressed community, Hazara women became victims of a cruel narrative that painted them as morally lacking. The politics surrounding their bodies intensified, with their dignity laid bare for public scrutiny. When the video scandal involving Hidayat Khilji – a non-Hazara man – dominated conversations, it became a catalyst for further humiliation. Videos of Hazara girls circulated online, stripping away their privacy and exposing them to scorn. The shame was profound, leaving families and communities divided. Public spaces, once a refuge, transformed into arenas of judgement and hostility. Hazara women, who had briefly experienced a sense of normalcy, found themselves thrust back into a cycle of marginalisation and oppression. The scandal not only shattered individual lived but ignited tensions within the community, as fear of conflict between Hazaras and non-Hazaras simmered beneath the surface. The online videos served as a painful reminder of their vulnerability, reinforcing stereotypes that portrayed Hazara women as objects of ridicule rather than individuals with rights and dignity. The fear of backlash loomed large, making daily life fraught with anxiety. Once again, these women were caught in a struggle for agency and respect, navigating a world that constantly threatened to strip them of both. In the face of adversity, Hazara women continued to seek resilience, hoping to reclaim their identities in a landscape marred by violence and betrayal. Yet the spectre of conflict hung over them, challenging their pursuit of peace and dignity in a society that refused to see their humanity.
© Artist: Shakila Haider
Since the dawn of the new millennium, the Hazara community in Quetta had been gripped by an unrelenting wave of persecution. In the shadows, women and children bore the heaviest burden, their lives marked by fear and uncertainty. The attacks came without warning, launched by faceless assailants whose motivations remained a mystery. In the midst of this chaos, religious clerics and politicians offered explanations that twisted the narrative, telling the community that their suffering was a test from God. As they gathered in their homes, the stories of the Shahnameh echoed in their minds. They felt like the innocent people caught in the brutal rivalries between unfit kings, dying without understanding the reasons behind the violence. With each passing day, the number of widows in the community rose, now exceeding 3,000. Yet, despite the growing toll, not a single perpetrator had been brought to justice. Resignation settled over the community like a heavy blanket; they began to accept their fate, believing that justice would always elude them. In the quiet corners of their homes, mothers whispered to one another, their hearts heavy with despair. They watched their children grow up in a world where safety felt like a distant dream. The low-income, patriarchal setting in which they loved left them vulnerable, their lives overshadowed by the ever-present threat of violence. The sword of terrorism loomed above them, a constant reminder of their precarious existence. “Will this be our fate?” one woman asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will our city be known only as the land of Hazara widows?” Another, wiping away tears, voiced the questions that haunted them all: “Why is there no justice? Why has the state failed to protect us?” The questions lingered in the air, heavy with a sense of hopelessness. Despite their strength and resilience, they flet trapped in a cycle of despair, seeking answers that seemed forever out of reach. Yet, in their shared suffering, they found a glimmer of hope – a belief that one day their cries for justice would be heard, and their stories would ignite the change they so desperately needed.
Since the dawn of the new millennium, the Hazara community in Quetta had been gripped by an unrelenting wave of persecution. In the shadows, women and children bore the heaviest burden, their lives marked by fear and uncertainty. The attacks came without warning, launched by faceless assailants whose motivations remained a mystery. In the midst of this chaos, religious clerics and politicians offered explanations that twisted the narrative, telling the community that their suffering was a test from God. As they gathered in their homes, the stories of the Shahnameh echoed in their minds. They felt like the innocent people caught in the brutal rivalries between unfit kings, dying without understanding the reasons behind the violence. With each passing day, the number of widows in the community rose, now exceeding 3,000. Yet, despite the growing toll, not a single perpetrator had been brought to justice. Resignation settled over the community like a heavy blanket; they began to accept their fate, believing that justice would always elude them. In the quiet corners of their homes, mothers whispered to one another, their hearts heavy with despair. They watched their children grow up in a world where safety felt like a distant dream. The low-income, patriarchal setting in which they loved left them vulnerable, their lives overshadowed by the ever-present threat of violence. The sword of terrorism loomed above them, a constant reminder of their precarious existence. “Will this be our fate?” one woman asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will our city be known only as the land of Hazara widows?” Another, wiping away tears, voiced the questions that haunted them all: “Why is there no justice? Why has the state failed to protect us?” The questions lingered in the air, heavy with a sense of hopelessness. Despite their strength and resilience, they flet trapped in a cycle of despair, seeking answers that seemed forever out of reach. Yet, in their shared suffering, they found a glimmer of hope – a belief that one day their cries for justice would be heard, and their stories would ignite the change they so desperately needed.