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. […]”

I will forever remember that hot, early-summer morning in February 2021. I was at the market near my apartment in Yangon, waiting for Shan noodles for breakfast. The breeze whispered that the Tatmadaw (Myanmar military) had taken power over the elected government led by Aung San Suu Kyi. I quietly finished my breakfast, shocked at the unexpected development, unaware of what it truly meant to live in a country undergoing a coup. When I got home from the market […]

“When I decided to become an activist, I didn’t stop writing. I initiated the Migrant Workers Writing Movement (Gerakan Buruh Migran Menulis) with Migrant CARE and discovered the incredible stories of women migrant workers and their families. Since then, I have gradually understood feminism and gender injustice, not from fancy theoretical concepts but from the experiences of the people I met. At that moment, I knew exactly my path in fighting for what was most relevant to me: women’s liberation. […]”

“I was born and raised in the northeastern region of Thailand, in a province known as Isan. I grew up in a society that identified itself as the “Red Shirts,” a grassroots movement striving for political and economic democracy. When I turned sixteen, I left Isan to attend high school in Bangkok. It was during this time that I was introduced to feminism and began reading about the struggles faced by women and LGBTQ+ communities in their fight for self-affirmation and the recognition of their traumas.” […]

I became visually impaired two years after my birth due to a genetic disorder resulting from consanguineous marriage. This compelled my family to move to Riyadh in hopes of finding a glimmer of hope for my treatment, which unfortunately did not happen. Nevertheless, my father’s work led us to settle in the Saudi capital. In 2011, multiple revolutions erupted in several Arab countries, including Egypt, Tunisia, Libya, Yemen and my homeland, Syria. […]

“This is a glimpse of a story of struggle blended with success and failure, filled with challenges, difficulties, and significant opportunities. I wanted to share these experiences with the esteemed readers of this blog to convey a message to all immigrants on how they can become great ambassadors for their countries, utilizing all spaces and opportunities to enhance themselves and advocate for human rights in their home AND destination countries. […]”

Today, I sit behind my computer screen on the balcony of my home in a city in southern France where I have now settled. I am writing about my experiences and the challenges I have faced since leaving Egypt nearly three years ago. As I write these lines and reflect on what has happened, I realize that it has not yet become a part of the past. My thoughts drift back to three years ago when I was on the balcony of my home in downtown Cairo, […]

On the afternoon of Saturday, April 3, 2021, I received that life-altering call. My mother had passed away in Egypt. The caller offered words of solace, urging me to remain steadfast and pray for her soul, while cautioning against any thoughts of returning to Egypt, knowing all too well the regime’s penchant for imprisoning dissenters upon arrival. At that moment, the reality of my exile hit me with full force. It was exile in its truest form—I was robbed of the opportunity to lay my mother to rest. They stripped away my right to exist in my homeland, denying me the chance to bid a final farewell at her graveside. […]

In the grips of the pandemic I felt like I lost my voice. I went from speaking at colorful climate justice rallies to watching the scudding clouds from my sickbed. In short, I went from being an organizer and cofounder of Extinction Rebellion UK to being disabled by Post Covid Syndrome. Over the last few years I have been dabbling in writing online as a way to find my voice again. It’s a vast world of clickbait, corporate media and quick news cycles that can easily drown out an authentic activist voice. […]

We were around twenty local residents, members of the association, from various villages located around 120 kilometers from the sugar plantations in central Cameroon. On July 6, 2023, we gathered peacefully in front of the headquarters of a multinational company in Yaoundé’s administrative district to demonstrate our dissatisfaction with the destruction of our crops by the pesticides dumped on the fields by the company’s planes. In protest, we dumped the contaminated and visibly burnt crops-cassava leaves, groundnuts-in front of the agro-industrial company’s head office. […]

Ben Kamuntu belongs to the generation of young Congolese born during the war who have never known peace. From an early age, he had to endure the death of his loved ones, the looting of his family’s possessions and the displacement caused by the war. As an adult, Ben Kamuntu joined the nonviolent citizens’ movement Lutte pour le changement LUCHA to urge the Congolese authorities and the international community to promote peace, justice and freedom in the Democratic Republic of Congo. […]

Last month, a silent march organized by AAR SUNU Élection gathered hundreds of Senegalese to demand the date of the presidential election to be set and political prisoners to be released. A few days after this popular demonstration, the two main demands were met. The Senegalese authorities released the political prisoners and set the election date for this Sunday, March 24. […]

“Despite the independence of African states and the abolition of slavery, African democracies offer very few positive prospects in terms of good governance. The people of Africa are still faced with corruption, democratic backsliding and a range of other ills. As in the past, Africans are not giving up in the face of the predatory oligarchies in power. In many countries, activists and nonviolent movements have emerged to campaign against rulers’ abuse of power and to push nonviolently for good governance. […]”

Trade union membership worldwide has been on the decline for years, and my country, Kenya, is no exception. Does this mean trade unions are no longer relevant actors for social change? Can we no longer expect to see trade unions mobilizing and galvanizing society-wide nonviolent action as we saw in major episodes of nonviolent history like the Polish resistance to Communist rule and Chilean resistance to defeat dictatorship in the 1980s? […]

I began to explore the problems of West Papua during the COVID pandemic through human rights forums Amnesty International, Tapol.UK, ICNC and other sites. With the extra time I had during lockdowns in 2020 here in France, I launched the bilingual (French/English) blog, Markus Haluk Papua, on the struggle of West Papuans against Indonesian colonization, as a way to engage in activism as a member of the Indonesian diaspora in France. I have always enjoyed writing. I’m committed to using my residency in France, where freedom of expression is recognized, as an asset to this largely overlooked independence struggle. […]

At age 16, I initiated a youth education group, touring high schools and supporting struggling high schoolers. It was the prime of my organizing, and to date, I wish the group had had a structure and stable leadership that enabled it to hang on better after I left. But movement leadership is a dance, and it takes time to learn the steps. Being part of and eventually leading Activista Nigeria, a massive youth movement with a membership of over 10,000 young people, I saw and embodied the movement’s vision. […]

The citizen movement LUCHA was founded in 2012 by young Congolese frustrated by the dramatic situation in their country. LUCHA pursued nonviolent resistance to inform citizens and fuel their outrage, as well as to hold those in power more responsible and accountable. One of the tools they use is called Fatshimétrie, a barometer for assessing the level of fulfilment of commitments and promises made by the head of state to transform the DRC. […]

Last April and at the beginning of this May, a group of about 150 people spent 12 days and nights traveling the roads of south-southeast of Mexico, responding to the National Indigenous Congress’ call to organize a Caravan called “The South Resists”. Hot days and nights, in regions where temperatures can exceed 40 C degrees (104 F); hostile roads, where thousands of people have disappeared without a trace; hours shared with strangers, who eventually became friends, all in response to a call: it is time to organize ourselves to push back against environmental injustice and protect our lives and livelihoods. […]

A powerful movement for the defense and protection of water has been brewing in El Salvador for decades. Based in Suchitoto, in the department of Cuscatlán, this nonviolent struggle has many components: grassroots community organizing, large demonstrations, popular education, and hip hop music production—all typically led by peasant communities with strong women’s participation. The message of the struggle is that water is not for sale. […]

Whenever I listen to Quintana’s Cancion Sin Miedo, I feel the urge for change. As pointed out by Marshall Ganz, narratives are the art of creating emotions that translate values into actions. When I began participating in movements in El Salvador, every march and action was accompanied by songs from Torogoces de Morazan, Violeta Parra, Residente, and many others. I noticed that the idea of another world in Latin America has always been accompanied by music and creative languages of resistance that create new meanings, make the invisible visible, and invite us to dream, fight, feel, and change. […]

“‘Writing ourselves into humanhood.’ ‘To build towards a more meaningful future.’ ‘A labor of love for our struggle.’ ‘Catharsis…’

“What is your relationship to writing and how is that related to your activism? We received the above responses when we discussed this question with activists we met this past February at the Global People Power Forum, a space for movements and movement-minded organizations to share, learn and advance our collective wisdom. As ICNC and ActionAid Denmark embark on a new collaboration this year, we are going straight to the source. […]”