Minds of the Movement

Last August, Nigerians across the nation took to the streets to protest poor governance. Police and other security forces cracked down on the demonstrations, resulting in some 20 deaths. Even prior to this acute repression, the Nigerian state and state-ordered actors had for weeks attempted to instill a climate of fear and control the public narrative about the campaign. Yet concerned Nigerians and the campaign organizers, who hailed from several movements and civil society groups, were prepared to counter these measures. […]

My journey to where I am now—an activist in exile, a wanted “extremist” and part of something greater, started in confusion and isolation but has led to a strong sense of belonging and responsibility. We still have a long way to go in laying the foundation for democracy in Russia, but at least we have started—and I am living proof of that. […]

“To the outside observer, some places may seem hopeless and completely lost. It looks like nothing good comes out of them and there should be no faith in their future. I come from such a place, and my organization fights for it. The Youth Democratic Movement Vesna (“Spring” in Russian) was created in 2013 in Saint Petersburg. For the first eight years of its existence, it was a relatively small (nevertheless, ambitious) youth organization with a focus on local and countrywide issues, and with the main goal of introducing youth to political action in the highly atomized and apolitical Russian society. […]”

I’ve often pondered what motivates someone to risk their freedom, safety and even their life, for the sake of rights and justice. Why do they persist when the fight seems endless? What sustains them when fear and exhaustion threaten to take over? The “Voices of Resilience” blog series attempts to explore these questions through the personal activism journeys of five remarkable women human rights defenders from Southeast Asia. These women are not just activists; they are daughters, sisters, mothers and friends who have faced personal tragedy, persecution and forced exile, but refused to give up. […]

As the youngest daughter in my family, my parents had always been concerned about the risks of my involvement in activism. While protesting in my home country of Myanmar after the 2021 coup, I faced pressure from male protesters who suggested that, as a woman, I should prioritize my safety and stay away from frontline strikes. So, the phrase “Dare to Cross or Cross to Dare” resonated deeply with me when I was forced to flee Myanmar in late 2022 due to my nonviolent activism against the military regime. […]

“I was eight when I overheard Dad persuading Mama to employ the daughter of an impoverished client as household help. She would work without pay, in exchange for her father’s lawyer fees. We didn’t need household help, but Mama agreed when Dad explained it would mean “one less mouth to feed” for his client’s family. She was hired, with salary. I later understood the disturbing gap between social classes when I pursued a progressive education. But my learning wasn’t confined to the classroom. Conversations with one of my elder brothers enriched my education, from which emerged a strong desire for equality, truth and justice in my country. […]”