By Renuka Anandjit and Angelique V. Nixon
Renuka N. Anandjit is a Guyanese-born scholar and activist, based in Trinidad. She is a PhD Candidate, Research Assistant and Coordinator for the IGDS Ignite undergraduate student group, at the Institute for Gender and Development Studies at the University of the West Indies, August.
Angelique V. Nixon is a Bahamas-born writer, scholar and activist. She is a lecturer at the Institute for Gender and Development Studies (IGDS) at the University of the West Indies, August August, and a director of the feminist LGBTI organization CAISO: Gender and Gender Justice.
What do people do when they’ve had enough? They rise up. In Trinidad and Tobago, a nation in turmoil, citizens and residents have continually raped the high levels of Gender-based Violence (GBV). On November 29th 2020, during 16 Days of Operation Against GBV, 18-year-old Ashanti Riley was brutally kidnapped and murdered. On January 29th, 22-year-old Andrea Bharatt was kidnapped; her body was found on February 4th. This was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. With 48 women murdered (3 were Venezuelan migrant women), 416 missing in 2020, and an alarming rise in reported incidents of domestic violence and sexual abuse, a nation is saying nothing more about femicide and violence .
But Trinidad and Tobago are not unique. Just over the past month, in Jamaica, Andrea Lowe-Garwood was murdered during a church service, while a yet-to-be-identified woman with her neck broken was found in some bushes. In Guyana, Special Constable Shonetta James was shot in the neck allegedly by her alleged husband, a police sergeant, for ending their relationship. These are not new stories, just new names. So who is responsible? Of course there are the criminals, but the causes of gender-based violence are complex and deeply connected to colonial histories, structural violence and state failures.
Photo taken by Renuka Anandjit
Let’s look at Haiti, where trade unions announced a 48-hour general strike on February 1st to support protests against austerity measures, rising inflation and government corruption. Haitians have been calling for President Jovenel Moise to step down and call elections for over a year, and yet the President insists he has another year left, a job backed by the U.S. administration. US imperialism, and the turmoil it causes, is nothing new for Latin America and the Caribbean. But the people of Haiti have had enough. They risk their lives to challenge authoritarianism and corruption once again, demanding that the government and supporters of this shameless display of power be displaced.
But what do the labor protests in Haiti have to do with GBV and flamethrowers throughout the region? To understand how violence works and affects the lives of women and girls, we need to look at the big picture. We must centralize the political, legal, economic, social and cultural factors that reflect a broken system. Inadequate legislation, inaction, poor policy frameworks, no interventions to tackle the cross-cutting nature of violence, corrupt and inefficient state actors. These factors shape how we shape our lives, they govern us, they permeate our daily routines, they disenfranchise us.
Some groups or individuals have little or no power when matched against normative systems and for many, it is part of the everyday. Across the region, women’s bodies and freedoms are under attack, some subject to these experiences due to socio-economic circumstances. In Haiti, female workers are most vulnerable and therefore take a high risk during these labor protests. Their livelihood is under threat. Protesters have also identified kidnapping, murder and rape as part of the daily crimes. The corruption of the state backed by economic powers reinforces what many of us know: some people are disposable, mostly poor and working class people, and many are women.
Our region is facing unprecedented economic hardship due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which has exacerbated existing inequalities amid failures of global capitalism, unsustainable development, and a climate crisis. The increase in GBV globally during the pandemic has reached epidemic levels in the face of uncertainty. And yet, regional governments have failed to prioritize this in their response, with the exception of Puerto Rico, whose Governor recently declared a state of emergency over GBV in response to activist demands.
Since February 4th, community groups and individuals have led 100+ action and 20+ vigils in Trinidad and Tobago to unravel violence against women. Andrea Bharatt’s murder struck home to many people. But we ask why now? How about that in November when Ashanti Riley was brutally murdered in an eerie-like situation? How about Ornella Greaves, a pregnant Black woman shooting and killing on June 29th in protest of police violence in her community? Why didn’t we pick up all those years before in such large numbers? Why are we so fed up?
Andrea “did everything right” as many of the protests remind us. She was a bright student, graduated at the University of the West Indies, had a job, lived with her widowed father, and was described as shy and sweet. On the day she was abducted, she was “properly dressed,” traveled with a friend, took an H (hire) car, replaced the unregulated PH (private hire), and was going home right after work . Ashanti took a PH car on its own, which is considered more of a risk. Ornella was pregnant in protest, an act described as reckless when she should have been home. But for Andrea, a young educated Indo-Trinidadian woman, there were no holes to poke in this narrative. She wasn’t a “bad girl,” she wasn’t from a “bad” community, she didn’t come from a “broken” home, she had no labels related to the “wrong” type of woman. And she was still murdered.
Surely we know that race, class and gender are intersectional factors here, but perhaps too painful to discuss while the nation is in mourning. But we can’t help but wonder, what if she was a migrant woman, a quiet woman, a trans woman, or a sex worker? Would we have seen the same kind of anger? What if the usual Carnival celebrations were not canceled due to COVID-19 restrictions? Why offer these provocations? Because it may have finally hit home for so many that no matter what women do, no matter who they are – Andrea, Ashanti, Ornella, the list goes on and on – no one is safe.
Violence overshadows all aspects of women’s lives – from failing police and court systems, lack of resources for state agencies, policy gaps to damaging cultural norms that place women as objects and support men’s right to bodies women. This analysis of institutional sexism and structural violence that sex justice activists have been developing for years may have finally connected with the larger public.
Most striking in the past week has been the number of repeated appearances across the country. People organize despite COVID-19 regulations. While some use it as a political opportunity, for the most part, everyday people take to the streets and speak out against violence, while calling on the government to do more.
At last men speak up. Maybe it’s sinking because the “not all men” narrative is damaging and helps no one. There are many calls from men to hold each other accountable and promote changes in behaviors to curb violence. This builds on years of women’s organizations and GBV activists including men in pro-feminist movement building. We have both worked in coalition with men, including a memorable #PullUpYuhBredren campaign. However, we remain vigilant of the ways in which men can replace and hijack social movements for their own agenda.
Young people have emerged as a force, organizing and leading many of the actions. They do not want to inherit a country where women are neither safe nor protected. They demand a seat at the table and that state actors repair their country. Youth-led activism has led to the “Write Yuh MP” campaign, led by IGDS Ignite students and born out of the need for tangible action beyond protests to amplify the voices of citizens and residents. The campaign encourages people to ask for their MPs and provides letter templates, contact information and tips. It is clear that youth-led activism has driven something new and powerful across the country. Others who have long been involved in the fight against GBV are embracing the momentum of youth organizations.
In the past week, there has been little official response to the protests and the wide range of calls – from changes to the public transport system to state accountability and investment in support systems and social change. There was also no response when Civil Society Institutions started a coalition a year ago, “Alliance for State Action to End GBV”, demanding state action and investing in resources to end GBV. This year our rallying cry for the Government is to declare a National Emergency on GBV.
Some of the calls to action – from the death penalty to unavailable sex crime accusations – perpetuate state violence and rely on a just legal system that we simply do not have. There is a long-standing mistrust of the entire justice system. The death penalty offers no real solutions to GBV problems. We also question whether prisons actually make us safe or prevent crime. Longer sentences without a recovery plan or restorative justice approach apply a bandage on a closing wound. While these eye-catching methods may feel good right now, they are not real solutions to the issues. These punitive approaches to crime and problems in society are rooted in state violence and colonialism.
Instead we are calling for investment in restorative justice and transformations of our people-centered systems – from education to policing to social services. As feminist activists, we demand criticism of state violence as we demand leadership, state action and accountability, transformation and justice to bring about the long-lasting change we so desperately need. We’ve all had enough.