This article was originally published on August 2, 2021 in ‘In Plainspeak‘.

Farida Rizwan, a Bangalore-based blogger and the mother of Farheena, a girl with cerebral palsy was advised that Farheena undergo a hysterectomy when she began menstruating. After Mumbai-based Meenakshi Sharma’s daughter Kashish, who has an intellectual disability, started menstruating, Meenakshi was terrified each time she heard of attempts of sexual assault on girls with disabilities. Rahibai, a marginalised farmer from a resource poor area in rural Maharashtra, India, was advised her daughter, Malana, who has an intellectual disability undergo a hysterectomy. None of these mothers heeded the biased advice given by ‘well-wishers’, some of whom were doctors as well. Today, Farheena, Kashish and Malana manage their menstruation and take care of their menstrual hygiene on their own with minimal assistance, one of the main reasons for this being that they were provided with the information to do so.

These three young women, thanks to their mothers, managed to have at least some of their rights not be violated. But what vindicates the argument that women with disabilities (WWDs) should be deprived of sexual and reproductive healthcare and rights is scary. Harmful stereotypes of WWDs include the belief that they are hypersexual, incapable, irrational and lacking control[1]. These narratives are then often used to build other perceptions such as that WWDs are inherently vulnerable and should be ‘protected from sexual attack’[2]. WWDs are also often considered ‘childlike’ which again deprives them of sexuality education and information on sexual health. In addition, if a WWD gives birth to a child then her caregivers feel that the responsibility of childcare will also fall upon them. Not acknowledging and recognising the sexuality of women with disabilities has been a major reason for the stigma and discrimination they face. With ableism and patriarchy being dominant in the Global South, women with disabilities are, most of the time, infantilised, deemed asexual or hypersexual, and are denied safe and affirming spaces where they can express their sexuality. The prejudices also include eugenics-influenced thinking and the belief that sexually active WWDs with multiple partners are more likely to transmit STIs (sexually transmitted infections).

At a time when navigating conversations around sexuality is still a challenge, the discourse around the sexuality of WWDs and meeting their sexual and reproductive health and rights needs is even more stilted. When these prejudices are challenged by non-heteronormative narratives, it simply adds more layers to the marginalisation of WWDs. In countries like India where LGBTQI+ people already face a range of marginalisation because of their sexual and gender identities, being disabled compounds their marginalisation. Kiran, a disabled trans rights activist from Andhra Pradesh has faced a series of violence, stigma and discrimination because of his trans identity. Kiran had already been facing discrimination because of his disability and caste identity and not conforming to heteronormative expectations of his society brought him more challenges. Because of this marginalisation, people standing at intersections of identities (both disability and sexuality) find it difficult to engage in many spaces. Also, challenges in communication and dependence on care providers and interpreters has made it difficult to access many of their narratives and make them visible.

In India, the right to sexual pleasure and to parenthood often come only within the institution of  heterosexual marriage. WWDs find getting married a difficult prospect, as they are often viewed as broken or damaged and are not considered “women enough” or for that matter “not human enough”^[3]. Their bodies are not considered ‘desirable’. This limits their chances of not only experiencing pleasure but also of parenthood by choice. Rupsa Malik in her article, Women with Disabilities: Parenting and Reproduction^[4] talks about how laws and policies related to disabilities also limit legal capacity, autonomy, and the choice to reproduce, especially of those with intellectual and psychosocial disabilities. Their choice and consent are often ruled out positing their disabilities as ‘excuses’. In an interview, Ratnaboli Ray, founder of Anjali, an organisation working in West Bengal on the right to mental health, rightly points out how women with psychosocial disabilities have no access to information around sexual and reproductive health in the first place. Apart from this, she also gives us a vivid picture of how mental health institutions are highly patriarchal and oppressive in nature with no sexual policies for patients and no room for sexuality education for people with psychosocial disabilities, mainly because of the stigma associated with them. They are not safe spaces where women with disabilities might be able to access sexual and reproductive health facilities; rather she talks about an incident where in a mental health institution, a WWD’s newborn baby was taken away and placed for adoption, and she was beaten by the nurses who thought she had had an ‘illicit affair’ as she had been found wandering out of her house.^[5] While a lack of spaces where women with disabilities can make choices related to their sexual and reproductive health is one part, forced abortions of WWDs is also a common practice in South Asian countries^[6]. With an ableist belief that WWDs cannot provide consent, they are further subjected to forced hysterectomies and sterilisation while being confined at home and institutions, limiting their interaction with people and the outside world.

The protectionist attitude towards WWDs has been seen to be present almost everywhere around the world. They are mostly guarded in rehabilitation centres or by families who do not allow them any privacy. Niluka Gunawardena, a disability rights activist from Sri Lanka, explains in one of their articles^[7] how inaccessibility stands at the centre of all of these issues: lack of services for independent living, lack of access to the public sphere, and lack of access to state services such as health care, administration, banking and financial institutions, judiciary etc. Largely, the guardianship extended by institutions and families is also determined by the fear that women with disabilities will be subjected to violence and assault, which has been the case in all the three instances cited at the beginning. A ‘Count Me In’ study by CREA^[8] also cites evidence of WWDs often being subjected to violence both within and outside their families, a lot of which is also sexual in nature.

Apart from the discourses on sexual violence, though sexual pleasure is largely considered irrelevant for WWDs, debates and campaigns are emerging to recognise WWDs as sexual beings with the right to pleasure, intimacy, love, relationships and sexual preferences.^[9] Niluka Gunawardena talks about how conversations around WWDs should not be limited to gender-based violence and go beyond the violence framework to  “develop a sex-positive rights framework”, thereby asserting “reproduction and sexuality as universal rights”. A young disability rights activist from India, Anusha Misra, says that it is necessary to break away from stereotypical media representations of ‘perfect love’ that are mostly determined by the perceptions of non-disabled and privileged individuals. These representations never include the experiences of WWDs and lead to a lot of ‘otherness’, control, and chauvinism in romantic and sexual relationships. There is a need to expand the avenues for WWDs to engage in discussions around pleasure, desire, eroticism, intimacy, relationships experienced by them all of which encompasses their sexuality and forms a prominent part of human rights but stays unexplored.  Joint efforts of CREA and Point of View’s online platform Disability and Sexuality are examples  of work being done towards having nuanced conversations around disability and sexuality where there are accessible information-based resources, personal narratives of WWDs, and sex-affirming artwork. Ekaete Judith Umoh, a disability rights activist from Nigeria talks about how information, and educational and communication material need to be tailored to meet the needs of women with psychosocial disabilities^[10]. There is also a need for cross-movement integration and dialogue to counter the heteronormative narrative around sexuality of WWDs. Shampa Sengupta, a disability rights activist from India, also asserts how it is extremely important to also focus on people who identify as both queer and disabled and whose interests lie in both the disability and the LGBTQI+ movements. While sharing instances, she mentions how trans people who also identify as disabled find it difficult to come out fearing the multiple marginalisations that they may face.

Talking about cross-movement dialogue, CREA, along with other feminist organisations and those working towards the rights of WWDs welcomed the Joint Statement on “Guaranteeing sexual and reproductive health and rights for all women, in particular women with disabilities”  made by the UN Committees on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities and on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CRPD and CEDAW Committees) in 2018, especially because of the progress that the statement made towards abortion rights of WWDs.

CREA convened the Global dialogue on Abortion, Pre-natal testing and Disability in Nairobi Kenya in October, 2018 that brought together feminists organisations and activists, organisations and activists working on SRHR and rights of WWDs, the aim of which was to steer conversation on human rights violation of women and WWDs while exercising SRHR. The convention was also important as it reaffirmed the need to have more dialogues on the intersection of SRHR and disability. The Nairobi Principles, an outcome of the Global Dialogue, is a significant document to rekindle cross movement dialogue around disability, SRHR and women’s rights as well as to offer guiding principles for rights-based organisations to navigate work around advancing sexual and reproductive health rights for WWDs. Amongst other important reaffirming principles around the rights of WWDs, the Nairobi Principles asserts the inclusion of WWDs in SRH-specific debates, not just in discourses within the disability constituency. In addition, autonomy in decision-making of WWDs in regards to reproductive justice that includes choice of abortion, choice of reproduction, and speaking against the violation of sexual and reproductive rights by coercion, forced abortion, contraception, and sterilization has also been reaffirmed in the principles.

Civil societies and rights-based networks across South Asia have played significant roles for advancing the rights of WWDs both in national and global platforms. One of the many examples is the National Forum for Women with Disabilities (NFWWD) in Pakistan, which imparts information to women about SRHR and pleasure^[11]. Moreover, they train WWDs to become peer educators for other WWDs in further imparting information and providing support in cases of sexual violence. The Bac Tu Liem Association of people with disabilities in Hanoi, Vietnam^[12], conducted  two training programmes and an experience exchange programme on Sexual and Reproductive Health rights that aimed at addressing the gap faced by young people with disabilities in accessing and talking about their SRHR due to cultural beliefs. The programme brought some of the young people with disabilities in Vietnam together and provided a platform where they could share their SRHR experiences, and the barriers, stigma, and discrimination that they face due to misguided notions of sexuality. When YUWA, a youth-led organisation in Nepal started engaging with young people with disabilities, it was found that there was a lack of information on SRHR and sexuality around aspects like bodily changes, youth-friendly services, and relationships. They started engaging with disability rights organisations and started the process of imparting information on all of the above^[13]. Shampa Sengupta of Sruti Disability Rights Centre in India also talks in an interview about the inclusion of sexuality and SRH education in the curriculum of some of the schools for people with disabilities. Nidhi Goyal, founder of Rising Flame, integrates the perspective of disability and sexuality in the training programmes organised for young people by using media as a tool.

There is a huge need to work on the advocacy component in order to ensure the sexual and reproductive rights of WWDs are met. One excellent example of advocacy is the efforts by the National Platform for the Rights of the Disabled (NRPD) in India. Their advocacy with the Justice Verma Committee for a strong monitoring mechanism for addressing sexual violence of WWDs resulted in the Committee recognising the problems faced by WWDs in accessing the judicial system. The Committee made amendments in the criminal law from the perspective of WWDs while also asserting the need for sexuality education among young people with disabilities.^[14] The Count Me In Study by CREA highlights the example of Nepal where there is a lack of inter-movement advocacy between the feminist and disability rights movements, as is the case in many other South Asian countries. Similarly, a working paper on Disability and Sexuality by TARSHI also highlights that there is still a long way to go in establishing proper linkages between disability and sexuality, and that delving into deeper research will be further instrumental in strategic designing, critical thinking, policy formulation and planning for advocacy.^[15] Making this process participative by including WWDs will yield better results on the path towards disability justice.

[1] Pooja Badrinath (2017), ‘Reluctance or Ignorance: Ensuring SRHR of Women With Disabilities in Legislation, Women with Disabilities :Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,33-35. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

[2] Maxwell, Jane, Julia Watts Belser, and Darlena David. 2007. Sexuality. In A Health Handbook for Women with

Disabilities, 141-156. Berkeley: Hesperian. http://www.hesperian.info/assets/wwd/07_Sexuality.pdf.

^[3] Nidhi Goyal (2017) Denial of sexual rights: insights from lives of

women with visual impairment in India, Reproductive Health Matters, 25:50, 138-146, DOI:

10.1080/09688080.2017.1338492

^[4] Rupsa Mallik (2017), Women With Disabilities: Parenting and Reproduction, arrow for change, Women with Disabilities:Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3, 5-7. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[5] An interview with Ratnaboli Ray (2017), ‘We Are Sexual Beings’- Bringing Sexuality to the forefront of Mental Health programs, Women with Disabilities:Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,21-23. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[6] Niluka Gunawardena (2017), ‘Setting the Agenda on the SRHR of disabled women in Sri Lanka, Women with Disabilities:Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,10-12. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[7] Ibid.

^[8] (2012) Count me IN!: Research report on violence against disabled, lesbian, and sex-working women in Bangladesh, India, and Nepal, Reproductive Health Matters, 20:40, 198-206, DOI: 10.1016/S0968-8080(12)40651-6

^[9] Renu Addlakha, Janet Price & Shirin Heidari (2017) Disability and sexuality:

Claiming sexual and reproductive rights, Reproductive Health Matters, 25:50, 4-9. Retrieved from https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09688080.2017.1336375

^[10] In a live lecture on “My Reproductive Rights, My Life” in CREA’s 6th Disability Sexuality and Rights Online Institute, 2020,  https://creaworld.org/our-work/dsroi/

^[11]Rashid Mehmood Khan (2017) Addressing SRHR concerns faced by Persons with Disabilities in Pakistan, Women with Disabilities:Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,26-27. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[12]Hyen Do (2017), Raising Awareness on SRHR for People with Disabilities: Towards Inclusion of People with Disabilities in Hanoi, Vietnam, Women with Disabilities: Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,25-26. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[13]Amit Timilsina  (2017), Addressing Sexual and Reproductive Health Needs of Young People with Disabilities in Nepal,  Women with Disabilities: Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,24-25. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[14] Shampa Sengupta, Muralidharan (2017), Success in Advocacy: Positive changes in Laws in India, Women with Disabilities:Disabled, Sexual and Reproductive, 23:3,12-14. Retrieved from https://arrow.org.my/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/AFC_23_3_2017.pdf

^[15] Sexuality and Disability in the Indian Context, Working paper TARSHI (2018), Retrieved from https://tarshi.net/inplainspeak/tarshis-corner-working-paper-sexuality-and-disability-in-the-indian-context-2018/

Cover Image: Pixabay

This article was originally published on September 15, 2020 in ‘In Plainspeak‘.

Ideas around sexuality[1], intimacy and rights have consistently come under scrutiny and control. On the one hand, policies try to ensure ‘rights’ but on the other hand, the same set of policies don’t take into account the sexual rights and voices of young people. It is assumed that there is something intrinsically aberrant about ‘sexuality’ and ‘sex’; one must not and can not talk openly about them and they are made out to be disruptors of the ‘norm’ and ‘respectability’. Sexuality is viewed as being legitimate when it is between two individuals within the ambit of a heterosexual marriage set-up. The idea of sexual rights for young people itself is deemed to be dangerous and deviating from the ethical, moral codes of the society one lives in. In particular, young girls are worst-affected by the control and regulation of their sexuality which is a critical and an often overlooked indicator of gender inequality that exists in various forms around the world.

The legal system of a State is primarily seen as a system that ensures and upholds rights, dispenses justice and maintains order in society. However, law is also used to enforce strict notions around morality (especially sexual morality), respectability, right/wrong,  acceptable/unacceptable behaviour, and so on. Laws and policies that have been put in place to ‘protect’ young people’s sexuality and rights end up penalising them for their sexuality and autonomy and put their rights at risk.

The UN General Assembly set out universal Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) goals to be achieved by 2030 of which one focuses on eliminating early and forced marriages which has resulted in renewed steps to address the issue. It was recently announced that the Indian State may look into raising the age of marriage for girls from 18 to 21 years. The immediate reaction of a lot of people around me was positive, welcoming another ‘radical’ move to ‘protect’ the ‘daughters of our country’.

Early and forced marriages[2] (EFM)[3] lead to numerous human rights’ violations which include disruption of education, negative impact on health and sharp restrictions on the future of adolescent girls. As a young ‘wife’ in the marital household, adolescent girls are socially and emotionally isolated, have to undertake extensive domestic physical labour and are vulnerable to physical and sexual violence along with high chances of early pregnancy. Adolescence is a crucial time for physical, emotional and intellectual growth and EFM drastically reduces girls’ chances of leading economically productive lives, decreases their access to sexual and reproductive rights, exposes them to various health risks which includes complications from early pregnancy and childbirth, and leads to high maternal mortality rates.

However, delaying early marriages cannot be simply about increasing the minimum age of marriage for girls and this proposal of the State can be analysed to understand the ways in which law, when applied in isolation to other factors, can do more harm than good.

As we try to address EFM, it is important to understand why raising the minimum age of marriage for women will not curb EFM or ensure delayed marriages. Deep-rooted patriarchal norms control adolescent girls’ rights to their sexuality, bodily autonomy and decision-making capacities. There is a constant anxiety around adolescent girls’ sexuality and social behaviour including sexual risks/ fear of sexual violence and harassment, and this anxiety[4] determines the practice of ‘early’ marriages in order to ‘protect’ them from forbidden sexual relationships or if they are discovered to be in a relationship, results in discontinuation of their education which forecloses any future livelihood opportunities and means to sustain themselves. With prevalent gender inequality and discrimination, many girls drop out of school themselves because of incidents of sexual violence/harassment and the obligation to fulfil housework-related responsibilities. Furthermore, in settings with strong societal norms kept in place by patriarchy, families and communities do not look beyond a girl’s role as a wife and mother as a result of which families see no future for their daughters beyond childcare and housework. This combined with a number of other socio-economic factors such as poverty and unavailable, inaccessible resources reinforce their understanding that early marriage is the best course of action for their daughters.[5]Girls and young women are effectively denied any right to make decisions about their lives and bodies in such restrictive structures. It’s quite ironical how girls and young women are expected to ‘manage’ sexual relations in a socially-acceptable setting i.e. marriage but are almost never provided with the correct information or knowledge to negotiate safe and consensual sexual activity, leave aside express desire, or talk about pleasure.

What then, should be our approach towards early and forced marriages? If increasing the minimum age is not the solution, what do we do? Do we need a more stringent approach to the issue? Maybe stricter laws?

For reasons mentioned above, criminalising the act of early and forced marriage will not deter families and communities from going ahead with them. Therefore, the answer is no – we don’t need more criminal laws or stricter punishment. A study by Partners for Law in Development (PLD), India, found the many ways other than minimum age in which families use laws such as The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012 (POCSO) and The Prohibition of Child Marriage Act, 2006 (PCMA). Since the law perceives all consensual relations between young people below the age of 18 years as sexual abuse and therefore criminal, families often use these laws against young people who choose their own partners, leading to criminal prosecution of the boyfriend/ husband for child abuse. Hence, raising the age of marriage will only increase parental control over young people’s sexuality and curtail the autonomy and agency of girls and young women.

It is necessary to recognize and address the key role that sexuality plays when it comes to our efforts against EFM. What we need to remember is that EFM “doesn’t just lead to a set of restricted choices; it reflects and reinforces a set of restricted choices that already exist.”[6] When legal reforms and policies focus solely on increasing the minimum age of marriage without taking into cognizance the limiting nature of gender norms and the control of sexuality that comes with them, they fail to do anything to promote the rights of girls and young women and their agency in making decisions about their lives. Legal policies at present do not acknowledge or enhance the decision-making capacity or sexual rights of girls and young women. Legal reforms must place girls and young women at the centre of this legislation – not age or the State’s protectionist/ punitive approach.

Now is the time to talk about and talk to young people about autonomy and ensure their right to sexual and reproductive health (which is not limited to only learning about menstruation) and apply gender-transformative approaches[7] at the intersection of EFM and sexuality. This has to be a two-way conversation between young people and the legal system where the law is inclusive of the voices of young people, has an autonomy-enhancing and -enabling approach and takes into account systemic inequalities in order to address practices such as EFM.

***

[1] The World Health Organisation defines sexuality as a central aspect of being human throughout life [which] encompasses sex, gender identities and roles, sexual orientation, eroticism, pleasure, intimacy and reproduction. Sexuality is experienced and expressed in thoughts, fantasies, desires, beliefs, attitudes, values, behaviors, practices, roles and relationships. While sexuality can include all of these dimensions, not all of them are always experienced or expressed. Sexuality is influenced by the interaction of biological, psychological, social, economic, political, cultural, legal, historical, religious and spiritual factors.

[2] According to the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR): Early marriage, is any marriage where at least one of the parties is under 18 years of age. Forced marriages are marriages in which one and/or both parties have not personally expressed their full and free consent to the union.

[3] I am deliberately not using the term ‘child’ marriages because this yet again dismisses adolescent sexuality – young people are a category in their own

[4] M.E. Greene, S. Perlson, J. Hart and M. Mullinax. The centrality of sexuality for understanding child, early and forced marriage. Washington, DC, GreeneWorks and American Jewish World Service. 2018

[5] Ibid

[6] AJWS. What’s Missing in the Fight Against Early and Child Marriage: Insights from India. New York: AJWS. 2015.

[7] CEFM and Sexuality Programs Working Group. Tackling the Taboo: Sexuality and Gender-transformative programmes to end child, early and forced marriage and unions. 2019.

Cover Image: Pixabay

“Change a child’s life for the price of a cup of coffee.” “What will your selfless acts be this holiday season?” “TODAY is our LAST CHANCE to SAVE LIVES.”

The Tuesday after Thanksgiving has become a charity free for all, with pleading subject lines like these vying for attention as they flood mailboxes. Non-profit organizations have seized onto Giving Tuesday as an opportunity to reap a kind of fiscal penance after the indulgences of Black Friday and Cyber Monday. After spending one-day feasting and feeling thankful for all we have, and spending the next days consuming even more, it is difficult to turn away from societal injustices like homelessness and hunger.

This annual drive to solicit individual philanthropists to give what they can works astoundingly well. Giving Tuesday is the largest day of the year for direct donations. An estimated $2.47 billion was donated to US-based charities by over 34 million people in 2020 during the one day campaign. The value of this funding goes far beyond the stunning numerical total at the bottom of a budget line, because this is money without strings attached. For non-profit organizations based in the global South, this is a luxury that the international community rarely affords it.

Fundraising in the global South (countries that have been marginalized within political and economic systems post-colonization by global North countries) requires resources that are often out of reach. The old adage “it takes money to make money” is true even in the world of non-profit organizing, where our literal distance from funders becomes a disadvantage.

While the global community has started to rally around the call that development solutions need to come from the South, the funding to make that a reality has not materialized. Instead, global South organizations are often seen as essential but rudimentary. When funding does arrive, these local non-profits are usually expected to do less with more because of their lower costs of operating.

However, while these organizations may be locally-based, their work can span from community level to regional, and global scale and requires significant financial resources. While funding support from generous donors can facilitate program growth, many of these grants are project funding. Support to specific projects, be they girl’s empowerment programs or reproductive health service strengthening, don’t provide support for organizational development in terms of institutional strengthening and further fortifying internal capacity to deepen work. This keeps global South non-profits dependent on the global North for funds that offer temporary relief rather than sustainable change.

Non-profits without offices in the US or Europe often do have lower overheads and higher cost-effectiveness, but they spend a great deal of resources proving that to potential funders. Rarely trusted with core funding to use at their own strategic discretion or self-identified priorities, Southern-led organizations are forced to fundraise for small projects rather than long-term missions or sustainability.

Most often, funding only trickles down to the global South via larger global North-based institutions and foundations, which siphon off much of the budget along the way. In their most recent report on private philanthropy, the OECD estimates that 97% of US-Foundation giving in 2013-15 was funneled through intermediary and non-governmental organizations such as WHO and UNICEF.

A report by the Vodafone Foundation on ‘Barriers to African Civil Society’ found that while US foundation funding to Africa jumped more than 400% from $288.8 million in 2002 to nearly $1.5 billion in 2012, most of this funding, went to organizations headquartered outside Africa — making it harder for informal and smaller organizations to secure resources needed to sustain their work.

In our own underfunded non-profit sector, data from 2016/17 showed that only 1% of gender equality funding went to women’s organizations, and the vast majority of this went to international organizations based in the donor countries.

There is an obvious need for systemic shifts in how we fund work in the global South at the institutional level, but there is much that can be done at the private and individual giving levels as well. Many of the US-based organizations participating in Giving Tuesday this year will be putting out calls to fund their work countries around the globe. And you should continue to give because these direct fundraising efforts fuel important efforts.

However, double-check that you have some global South organizations on your Giving Tuesday list as well. Your dollars, pesos, rupees, shillings, and more, really do go further when we trust Southern organizations to strategically invest in their visions for a more equitable future. CREA included.

Geetanjali Misra is the Co-founder and Executive Director of CREA, an international feminist human rights organization that is based in New Delhi and led by Southern feminists.

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