“Enough is enough”: the women of the DRC demand an end to sexual violence & conflict

No more war on women's bodies

BUKAVU (South Kivu), Dem. Rep. of Congo (DRC), February 25, 2014/ -- A fact-finding mission to the Democratic Republic of the Congo—led by Nobel peace laureate Leymah Gbowee of Liberia, and organized by the International Campaign to Stop Rape & Gender Violence in Conflict—today called on the government of the DRC and the international community to put women at the centre of peace efforts and bring an end to rampant sexual violence.

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“They say that the DRC is the rape capital of the world,” said Gbowee.  “But what I see is that it is the capital of strong women and solidarity among women.  We are here to support the courageous women who have survived rape and other forms of sexual violence—and are now working to help other survivors.  These women are the peacemakers, and they need to be supported to bring true peace to this country.  They have told us:  'enough is enough'--no more war on women's bodies.”

The group, which also included American journalists, philanthropists and women's right experts, visited Kigali (Rwanda), Bunia in the Orientale province of the DRC and Bukavu in South Kivu of the DRC.  At each stop, the group met with women's organizations, grassroots groups working on justice, provincial government officials, and officials from the UN and other international organizations—and also toured women-led projects aimed at supporting survivors of sexual violence.  The delegation came to the DRC at the invitation of women's organizations in the DRC that are part of the International Campaign to Stop Rape & Gender Violence in Conflict.

“We work with organizations around the world who care deeply about the situation of women in the DRC,” said Julienne Lusenge, the President of Solidarite Feminine pour la Paix et le Developpment Integral (SOFEPADI).  “Together with our partners in the International Campaign to Stop Rape & Gender Violence in Conflict, we are calling upon the governments of the region to come together with us to ensure adequate access to care for survivors of sexual violence all across the DRC—and end the impunity that still exists for committing rape and other atrocities against women.”

The fact-finding mission met with over 350 women in the DRC.  The women presented the delegation with key recommendations for the government of the DRC, governments in the region as well as the international community.  The recommendations include greater protection for human rights defenders, effective application of transitional justice in DRC and reparations for survivors, access to a full range of services for survivors (medical, psychological, legal and socio-economic, family planning) across the DRC, reform of the police, army and other judiciary mechanisms and the full implementation of the National Action Plan on Sexual and Gender-based Violence.

One of the key concerns is the lack of adequate funding for grassroots women's organizations.

“Groups like SOFEPADI do so much—with so little,” said Elizabeth Bernstein, the Executive Director of the Nobel Women's Initiative (http://www.nobelwomensinitiative.org), an organization created by six women Nobel peace laureates.  “These small organizations have the knowledge and skills to provide a full range of services to women in the DRC.  We are calling for more direct support to such grassroots organizations.”

The delegation will end it's mission in Kigali, where it will be meeting with local officials, members of the diplomatic community and representatives of international agencies.  

Distributed by APO (African Press Organization) on behalf of the Nobel Women's Initiative.

Dear Rockers

This past weekend has played out a little bit like a scene in a Stephen King Novel.


See, a bunch of us went and camped on the grabbed hills of Ngong. We knew there were buffaloes and other wild ones but decided they wouldn’t attack us if we minded our own business. A stupid thing to do I know but, what is life without one or two of those. Some of us were dumb enough to carry electrics because they thought it would make them look ‘cool’. I had my acoustic with me and had quite the lineup of Mraz and Bublé songs.


Among us was one Buddha, nicknamed thus because of his peaceful nature and the lotus position he assumed whenever and wherever he was. Though not a musician, Buddha learned how to play the guitar against all odds. When he first started, he had no guitar, couldn’t read music and seemed to know nothing but how to beat drums – the traditional kind – with no particular rhythm. Before he knew it, and after only a few months of hanging around guitar wielding self-proclaimed superstars, he found that he could learn any song by ear.


Having been present during those first days when this miracle began can only be compared to watching a gymnast bloom. In this case, the gymnastics was in his fingers. Though not a rocker, Buddha can do Steven Tyler just fine. He not only looks like a black version of him with locks instead of blonde curly tresses, but sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t just sit for hours, studying and imitating his speech.


So there we were on a Saturday morning at 3am, sitting round a bonfire, intoxicated only by the freshness of the mountain air, and listening to Buddha sing “Back in The Saddle” while simultaneously pulling those impossible Jagger/Tyler facial expressions. He was just about to summarize and hand over the mantle to me when twigs all around us began to crackle.


Buffaloes don’t roam at night I told myself, lions were last seen here in the 80s. But then again, murderers seem to favour these woods as a dumping site. Immediately ‘Jaine’s got a gun’ started playing in my head and I wished so badly that I was Jaine. Of course in every horror story, there’s always that idiot who decides he has to go find out what ‘that’ was. In our case, there were five; Steve, Jay, his brother Jared, Omosh and Kama.


They disappeared into the darkness, guitars in hand in case they needed weapons. Against what, I wondered, fireflies? 50 seconds in and there was a horrible screaming sound coming from each of their directions, triggering an equally terrifying chorus scream from those of us left round the bonfire. Everyone grabbed a flaming log from it, ready to burn and thump anything that came their way. All I could think was, we’re all going to be decapitated. Before I could snatch a torch of my own, I heard what sounded like feedback, then what I knew to be the beginning of a Black Sabbath song.


Then it all began to make sense. The electrics, their insistence on parking in a semi-circle, the amplifiers in the boots of their cars; they’d planned to scare us all along. Expected of a band called Shadow Scratchers. As soon as they turned on their headlights, everyone relaxed and even attempted to enjoy their very grungy version of ‘Into the void’.


I never did get to play and fortunately, only figurative aural decapitation occurred. They were terrible.