A cultural boom built on unstable, undocumented work Originally published on Global Voices Band performing live at Le Backstage. Photo by Le Backstage, used with permission. It’s 7:00 p.m. on a Tuesday night. Beer mugs clatter and conversations fill the timeworn hall of an old brasserie in downtown Casablanca , Morocco. Walid Rakik, a 28-year-old musician, sits in the back booth, speaking to the house pianist. Rakik is the headliner, accompanied by a young darbouka player. For Rakik, this means a three-way split of tonight’s tips, the only form of payment they will receive. At 11:00 p.m., Rakik finishes his first set and makes the quick dash to a Spanish-themed late-night spot for his second set. Rakik’s daily reality, like that of many musicians in Casablanca, remains barely visible behind the polished façades of the city’s nightspots. A labor force of ambience, part artisan, part gig-worker, operates at the periphery of the city’s cultural landscape. For Rakik, however, live music is not his only occupation. Like many musicians in Casablanca, he fits performances around other work, treating nightlife gigs as a secondary source of income and a way to remain active professionally. As live music is folded further into Casablanca’s cultural appeal, its musicians remain in a grey zone, caught between the allure of the stage and the conditions of a fierce yet barely evolving sector. Gnawa music live at Le Backstage. Photo by Le Backstage, used with permission. Historical overview Casablanca’s nightlife took root at the onset of the 20th century, when colonial urban planning turned the city’s coastal wedge into the mythical Corniche, the city’s leisure hub. By the 1960s and ’70s, several nightclubs began popping up around Ain Diab and the city centre. Club 84, Balcon 33 and La Notte provided an early showcase of talent, hosting local musicians versed in jazz, blues and rock. As venues branched out, they formed distinct segments: hotel lounges more attuned to jazz, blues or soul; higher-end cabarets staging Tarab or Maghrebi music; with restaurants and pubs catering to a more casual clientele. Morocco’s economic liberalization at the turn of the millennium coincided with a burgeoning middle class and an emerging consumer culture, spurring new nightlife concepts. Even some of the iconic venues had to innovate to stay competitive. Around the same time, the nascent music movement inspired a generation of young musicians and established some of the new professional norms for artistic and performance work in Morocco. Live music quietly became a significant part of Casablanca’s cultural cachet. A repertoire in the hundreds The circuit’s growth hinges on musicians with extensive repertoires and enough versatility to move between scales, registers and genres on demand. A performer may be expected to master three to five sets ranging from Oriental Tarab and Moroccan Chaabi to Western music, with some eventually building repertoires numbering in the hundreds. Aymane Fattal performing. Photo courtesy of Aymane Fattal. As a synth player, Aymane Fattal is accustomed to the demands of anchoring a band. “The work itself is quite exhaustive and challenging. You have to be familiar with different keys and scales, and be able to play along even if you don’t know the particular number. A singer might request a specific song, and you have to perform it.” At the higher end, technical proficiency is only part of what venues seek. Hani Hilali, a guitarist who broke out with Moroccan reggae band Ganga Vibes before moving into live music art direction after nearly 20 years of experience, sees the core task as “creating an osmosis between the musicians.” Hilali explains: “They rehearse and perform together almost daily, so disagreements happen. What matters is a genuine bond. Technique and nuance can be taught, but not who someone is as a person.” This depends on the band’s ability to sustain different registers and diverse sets night after night. A city of aficionados Casablanca lends its cultural weight to a largely homegrown scene. Unlike Marrakech or Agadir, which rely heavily on tourists, Casablanca’s circuit built its appeal by catering to local aficionados. Chaabi and other popular genres remain most in demand, followed by Tarab, while Western styles draw different audiences. Hilali observes, “Audiences in Casablanca tend to be connoisseurs, more open and more demanding musically. Our patrons come specifically for the music.” Mehdi Harit, musician and founder and art director of restaurant and music hall, L’Octave, echoes this: “People in Casablanca are certainly more attuned to music. Customers ask specifically for the live band when making a reservation.” For decades, the closed circuit relied on word-of-mouth and known performers, with work organized through cachets — a flat-rate payment — or contracts. Over the last decade, however, it has become a significant outlet for a growing workforce of musicians beyond the studio and festival circuit. Yassir Bezzi, a Casablanca-based musician, describes the shift: “Things are much different now. Opportunities are more available, although the overall trend is that cachets have decreased. But new venues have integrated live music as the audience itself grew.” Yassir Bezzi, Atlantic Beach Chez Serge 2022. Photo courtesy of Yassir Bezzi. For Rakik, who works across different types of establishments, conditions vary sharply. “A well-known cabaret pays well and steadily but demands a lot of experience. A restaurant can pay even more for less playing time. A lesser-known cabaret or bar pays less predictably; some can actually pay quite well. That’s where you start building experience.” Precarious zone The allure of live music on a regular night out is more ingrained than before. The growing number of venues creates more opportunities for musicians, but this momentum also exposes the gaps of a precarious model as supply expands. Hilali sees rising demand eroding the form itself. Overused repertoires and formulaic sets risk flattening the live experience. “I find the actors less engaged than they used to be. There are more venues now, but very few are trying to innovate. The bare minimum and catering to trends have become more accessible.” Harit sees a parallel tension: “For some venues, the business model may not naturally align with a selective and culturally significant art direction. Creating these spaces requires making them sustainable business-wise, but that only matters if the cultural vision is preserved.” Tips, contracts and grey areas Working conditions for musicians animating Casablanca’s nightlife still border on the precarious. While venues like Le Backstage and L’Octave offer structured contracts and cachets, these remain competitive and out of reach for many. Elsewhere, compensation follows less formal arrangements, with some cabarets relying on opaque, tip-based systems. Live band at L'Octave. Photo by L'Octave, used with permission. “Tip-based payment is mainly common in the mid-tier, and its spread is relatively recent. Contracts at this level are rare; most arrangements are verbal, with cash payments,” explains Fattal. “But conditions vary, for better or worse; it ultimately depends on the manager and how well you negotiate with them.” Yassine Filali, a singer and musician with over 20 years in the field, founded the Association Jeunesse pour la Culture l'Art et l'Education (A.J.C.A.E) to help budding musicians find opportunities and apply for an Artist’s Card. The Ministry’s Artist Card offers easier administrative procedures and travel-expense reductions. The Auto-Entrepreneur status allows musicians to pay taxes, access medical insurance, and contribute to a retirement fund, but requires transparent invoicing, difficult to produce from undetermined fees and tips. “Musicians have become relatively easy to replace. The offer is growing, but demand isn’t keeping pace,” Filali says. “Some venues offer proper contracts, but in many, compensation is still largely tip-based, often with little transparency. Many artists live almost entirely off tips, with little stability or protection.” Future perspective As the number of venues and performers has grown, the sector requires changes in management and programming practices. Live Band at Le Backstage, used with permission. Le Backstage Even as structural challenges persist, the scene remains active. For Hilali, much depends on the renewed engagement of committed actors: “Cultural programming is often the first to suffer from budget cuts, but I think it should be the main appeal. You can find the best salmon fillet anywhere, but cultural programming is different. I would like to see more art directors understand that the cultural experience of an establishment is as important as the overall offer.” Casablanca’s live music circuit has sustained its economic viability through an appeal rooted mainly in local audiences. As it grows, the gap between those foundations and the way the sector operates becomes harder to ignore. More consistent frameworks, particularly around standardization, could give it the stability it currently lacks. Written by Badr Sellak

‘We cannot allow our young people to become victims of an unjust war of aggression.’ Originally published on Global Voices Representatives from Korean civil society marched from the U.S. Embassy to the Blue House (the executive office and residence of the president of South Korea) in Seoul. Image provided by People's Solidarity for Participatory Democracy in its press release . Used with permission. This post is part of Global Voices’ September 2026 Spotlight series, “ Protest in Democracy .” With this Spotlight, we seek to explore the many forms of protest, the tactics states use to delegitimize and suppress them, and the complex relationship between protest and democracy. You can support this coverage by donating here . Upon Seoul confirming its plan to make a “substantive contribution,” including combat or non-combat military deployment options, to the Strait of Hormuz last week, a coalition of 601 civic groups gathered outside the U.S. Embassy on September 9, 2026, and marched towards the presidential office. The protesters were signaling their opposition to South Korea’s involvement in the Middle East conflict, arguing that the decision would undermine the country’s constitution and sovereignty. Since the United States and Israel launched their joint military action against Iran in early 2026, leading to Iran’s blockade of the Straight of Hormuz, U.S. President Donald Trump has been pressuring allies in Europe and Asia to help reopen the Strait by providing military support. As the U.S.’s November 2026 midterm elections approach, pressure to rally international support for this unpopular war is mounting, and Trump has started squeezing his allies harder . Weeks ahead of the U.S.-Japan-South Korea trilateral military drill , Trump wrote on his Truth Social account that he is scaling down U.S. involvement in the exercise due to Seoul’s reluctance to engage in the Middle East conflict. Washington also announced in early September that it would enact a “targeted, thoughtful tariff policy” on semiconductor imports , clearly targeting Seoul, as South Korea is a major hub for the global semiconductor industry. Soon after this announcement , South Korean domestic media outlets quoted a presidential office official saying Seoul was set to deploy troops to Hormuz by late 2026. While President Lee Jae-myung stressed that the plan was still under review and no final decision had been made , the Ministry of National Defense dispatched a field investigation team to assess the situation in Hormuz on September 7. An imperialist war Since President Lee Jae-myung’s announcement on September 4, Korean civil society has released an outpouring of statements and launched numerous protests. On that day, the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions issued a statement warning against any form of military deployment, arguing that if Korea were coerced into joining the “imperialist war,” it would risk the safety of Korean people and the country’s sovereignty. The Trade Unions also criticized the U.S. for trying to leverage semiconductor tariff negotiations to bargain for military backup, suggesting it was underhanded and unethical. Lee Mu-jin, Executive Committee Chair of the Seoul Candlelight Action, the civic coalition which successfully mobilized for former president Yoon Suk Yeol’s impeachment, also spoke out against the U.S. economic coercion in a public gathering on September 5th, urging officials to defend the country’s sovereignty by rejecting Trump’s demands. Many politicians and political parties issued similarly strong statements against the U.S.’s attempt to drag Seoul into the war with Iran. Both the Green Party and the Justice Party described Trump as a “warmonger,” with the latter raising the following question in a statement on X: 미국 내에서조차 트럼프의 소수 측근만이 옹호하는 이 군사작전에 왜 한국의 시민들이, 청년들이 방패막이가 되어야 하는가. 호르무즈 파병동의안은 “전쟁광 호위동의안”이다. Why should South Korean citizens and young people be used as a human shield for this military operation, while within the U.S. only a handful of Trump’s closest aides support the war? The plan to approve the dispatch of troops to the Strait of Hormuz will serve as a ‘consensus to stand by a warmonger.’ Small-scale protests were seen throughout the weekend. On September 5, People in Solidarity with Palestinians, a civic group composed of students and humanitarian workers, organized an emergency rally against the potential military deployment. “한국군 호르무즈 파병 반대한다!” “이재명 정부는 호르무즈에 한국군 파병 말라!” “No War! No Troops!” https://t.co/3AR1kVUKa2 pic.twitter.com/XmMTTqH5Ev — 팔레스타인인들과 연대하는 사람들(팔연사) (@ppl4pal_kr) September 5, 2026 “We Oppose the Deployment of Korean Troops to Hormuz!” “The Lee Jae-myung Government Must Not Deploy Korean Troops to Hormuz!” “No War! No Troops!” Numerous protests and peace actions took place on university campuses and downtown Seoul on September 7. Meanwhile, Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman Esmaeil Baqaei wrote in Korean on X, suggesting that South Korea’s military presence in Hormuz would result in “serious consequences,” accompanied by an image reading “dangerous choices come with a price.” On September 9, a coalition of 601 civic groups, the Joint Action Against War of Aggression and Troop Deployment, organized a joint action condemning the U.S. diplomatic coercion. In a statement, the coalition described the U.S. and Israel’s attack on Iran as “an unlawful war of aggression” that violates international law and argued that military deployment to the Middle East will violate the South Korean Constitution, as, according to Article 5, the country should “renounce aggressive war.” The coalition stressed: 우리의 청년들을 부당한 침략전쟁의 희생양으로 내어줄 수는 없다. We cannot allow our young people to sacrifice and become victims of an unjust war of aggression. After stating their positions in front of the U.S. embassy, representatives from the civic coalition marched to the Blue House, the executive office and residence of the president of South Korea. The Seoul government has considered the U.S.-ROK security alliance vital to the country’s survival, as after the Korean War (1950–1953), Korea was divided into the North (backed by the Soviet Union) and the South. Hence, South Korea often stands by the U.S. During both the Vietnam War (1963–1974) and the Iraq War (2003–2008), the South Korean government backed the U.S. with military deployment. However, after the democratic transition, investigative news reports about South Korean soldiers’ involvement in the massacre of Vietnamese civilians have sparked self-reflection and a peacebuilding movement, 미안해요 베트남 (I am sorry, Vietnam), among the progressive NGO sector. Hence, under public pressure, the South Korean government took a non-combatant role during the Iraq War. Faced with U.S. coercion, South Korean civil society has adamantly opposed the country’s military involvement in the Middle East, launching numerous protests and peace campaigns since April. Now, despite the military threat coming from North Korea’s nuclear weapons and missile programs and the country’s oil supply being heavily affected by the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, various polls showed that a slight majority of South Koreans still opposed military deployment to the Middle East. As the Lee administration said that it would seek public consensus over the decision, the anti-war network will continue working to stop the country from being dragged into the Iran war. The next grand mobilization is set for September 12. Written by Oiwan Lam

Many young people left the September 2025 protests in Nepal with scars — both physical, emotional, and financial Originally published on Global Voices Nepal's Gen Z protests against corruption in Bharatpur, south-central Nepal. Image via Wikipedia by Himal Subedi . CC BY-SA 4.0 . This post is part of Global Voices’ September 2026 Spotlight series, “ Protest in Democracy .” With this Spotlight, we seek to explore the many forms of protest, the tactics states use to delegitimize and suppress them, and the complex relationship between protest and democracy. You can support this coverage by donating here . Nepal observed its first Gen-Z Martyrs’ Day on September 8, 2026, with a nationwide public holiday, marking exactly one year since young protesters took to the streets and caused fundamental change throughout Nepal’s social and political system. In September 2025, Nepal was gripped by nationwide protests led largely by students and members of Gen Z . The movement began with the government’s ban on social media platforms , but it quickly grew, without a leader , into a broader expression of public frustration over government corruption and inefficiency. Over several days, young Nepalis took to the streets across the country, protesting not only restrictions on online expression but also corruption, alleged misuse of public funds, and the visible wealth of political elites and their families. The protests then descended into confrontations with police officers that escalated and resulted in unlawful use of force, including severe human rights violations . Liza’s frustrations Among those caught in the violence was Liza Adhikari, 21, who was shot by an SLR bullet while standing opposite the Parliament Secretariat building. The bullet struck her from behind, tore through her body, and exited through the front, leaving behind an injury that cannot simply be stitched away. Liza Adhikari, taken on a stretcher to the National Trauma Center Hospital in Kathmandu—half an hour after she was shot. Image via Liza Adhikari. Used with permission. A final-year Bachelor of Business Administration student at Kathmandu University, Adhikari has not returned to her classes since the incident. She is left to suffer not just the physical damage but an emotional burden as well. She appealed for financial assistance through social media and visited hospitals across Nepal in search of treatment. With limited options available, she eventually traveled to India, where she recently underwent brachial plexus surgery . The brachial plexus is a network of nerves that carries signals from the spinal cord to the shoulder, arm and hand, allowing movement and sensation. In an online interview with the author from a hospital in India, Adhikari told Global Voices that the bullet had severely damaged the bones in her upper arm and doctors had told her that the veins were no longer functioning properly. Her chances of making a full recovery, she was told, remain uncertain. Yet she has not given up. Liza Adhikari, present day, in Mahakali (Sudurpaschim) province of Nepal. Image taken by her mother. Used with permission. That determination is also what brought her to the protest that day — something she now remembers with great loss and regret. The bullet has been removed, but its consequences continue to shape her health and educational path. Liza wasn’t alone on the streets that day. Shantanu’s story Shantanu Dhakal’s survival from Itahari , in the Sunsari District of Koshi Province in Nepal, is yet another example of the lasting consequences of the violence that was no longer confined to the capital. On September 8, 2025, Shantanu was in his college. Little did he know that the day of the protest would become an unexpected turning point in his life. For several days before the demonstration, he had been receiving information about the planned protest through social media. The 18-year-old, an only son born into a middle-class farming family in Morang district of eastern Nepal, joined the protest in Itahari that day. He went with confidence, carrying a banner filled with slogans he had prepared with his friends. “For the first hour, the streets were peaceful. But suddenly, after a while, crowds started marching aggressively, burning and throwing stones at public property and the Metropolitan City ward office. It lasted for two hours. Around four p.m., bullets and tear gas were fired at civilians. When the first bullet was shot, it went somewhere else; nobody knew where. But when the second bullet was fired, I didn’t realize that it was me this time,” he said in an online interview. In a matter of seconds, the protest that Shantanu had joined with confidence became a moment of survival. He regained consciousness about a minute later, after being taken to a nearby clinic where his wound was bandaged. He was then placed on a stretcher and taken to Birat Teaching Hospital. Until then, he remembers, “I had no hearing, no vision, nothing. Perhaps no sensory cells were functioning properly at that time.” Shantanu during the treatment in Biratnagar. Image via Shantanu. Used with permission. His first instinct was to run. That instinct may have saved him from further injury. The bullet entered through the left side of his jaw, fractured the bone around his teeth, and damaged the soft tissue inside his mouth before traveling towards his chest. What followed was not just emergency treatment, but the beginning of a long recovery. He initially underwent a tracheostomy and was kept on a tube to help him breathe. This was later followed by grafting as part of his treatment. For many, an injury may eventually become nothing more than a physical mark. For Shantanu, however, the scar still carries the memory of what happened that day. Even after ten months, it can bring back the trauma. Some days, it triggers regret and painful memories; on others, he learns to make adjustments and live with it. Because ultimately, life goes on. But the consequences of that day do not remain only on his skin. The injury has affected his physical movements, particularly while eating and sleeping, and its effects become even more noticeable when he works in the farm fields. His body has undergone two surgeries, although neither was considered major. Shantanu (standing in front of the PM office in Singhadurbar, Kathmandu. Image by Shantanu. Used with permission. The injury has also brought a financial burden to his family. Medicines prescribed by his surgeons are not always readily available and are expensive. Fortunately, much of his medical treatment has been covered by the Government of Nepal. Not every person who took to the streets was left with bruises on their body, while many have been marked with fear and trauma. Riya's story Riya (name changed), a police constable, also has a similar story. In an in-person interview with the author, she shared that she was on duty in Baneshwor , Kathmandu, on September 8, 2025, with some of her colleagues and friends. “The street was peaceful for the first half an hour, but suddenly it turned violent. Some of my friends were taken away by police, while I was struck by stones, severely bruising my left foot. I was taken to a nearby hospital, and my wound was bandaged,” she said. Riya getting treatment in a clinic. Image by Riya. Used with permission. But the fear continued after she left the hospital. “It was the scariest moment. Even after I returned home, that feeling did not easily go away,” she recalled. On September 8th alone, 19 people died during the protests , with hundreds more injured. But their deaths didn’t end the conversations they stood for. Abhijeet Adhikari, a lawyer and political activist, reflects on that day. Speaking to Global Voices over the phone, he said, “No principle of proportionality was followed,” fueling the public’s demand for accountability. Justice and accountability After the protests led to the installation of an interim government , numerous investigations have sought to determine responsibility and prosecution procedures . A judicial inquiry commission led by Gauri Bahadur Karki recommended the arrest of the leaders involved, including then-Prime Minister, former prime minister (K.P.) Sharma Oli , Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak , and others. However, a separate review panel in July 2026 found that the available evidence was not sufficient to hold them under criminal liability charges. Since then, even after a year, the path towards prosecution has become politically contested, and accountability still remains uncertain. Yet amid all these uncertainties, Liza, Shantanu, and Riya shared their thoughts on the impact of the protests and how the subsequent violence continues to affect them as they marked the anniversary. For Liza, those days remain intertwined with regret and the consequences of a decision she wishes she could undo. “Maybe, if I had listened to my parents that day, this wouldn’t have happened to me,” she said. For Riya, she chose not to remain trapped in the past. “Whatever happened, happened. It’s in the past,” she said. Yet, she remains uncertain about the direction in which the country is heading. While Shantanu grapples with a facial scar, he refuses to allow it to become his future. While he is slowly picking himself up as a recent high school graduate and is busy preparing to pursue an engineering degree. When you look at him, his smile says it all. Perhaps that’s the beauty of every survivor like him. Written by Susmita Aryal

Civil society groups are demanding a timeline for when the government will reform the restrictive legislation Originally published on Global Voices Marchers during the Bersih (change) protest in Kuala Lumpur in 2011. Photo by Hafiz Noor Shams, uploaded on Wikipedia, Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported This post is part of Global Voices’ September 2026 Spotlight series, “ Protest in Democracy .” With this Spotlight, we seek to explore the many forms of protest, the tactics states use to delegitimize and suppress them, and the complex relationship between protest and democracy. You can support this coverage by donating here . Human rights advocates are calling on the Malaysian government to amend the Peaceful Assembly Act , which contains several provisions that police and local authorities use to undermine, disrupt, and even criminalize protests and public assemblies. Despite months of promises to amend the controversial provision, the government has continually delayed reforms. The law passed in 2012 and has been weaponized by successive governments to file harassment charges against protest organizers and leaders of civil society groups. After years of condemning the law, civil society groups scored a crucial victory in 2025 when Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim pledged to amend the more extreme sections of the law, particularly Section 11, which requires a property owner’s consent before an assembly or protest is held in a particular place. This was followed by a favorable Federal Court ruling in July 2025, which struck down Section 9(5) of the Peaceful Assembly Act as unconstitutional and invalid. Section 9(5) requires protest organizers to notify the police at least five days before a protest or rally. Failure to do this is considered an offense that authorities often invoke to threaten activists. The court ruling described the section as “a disproportionate intervention” that amounted to a prohibition rather than a restriction on guaranteed rights. The government initially sought to review the ruling, but this was dropped after a Cabinet meeting in January 2026, which meant that the court’s decision remains in effect. Despite the landmark court ruling and the government’s stated commitments, the bid to amend the law has stalled in Parliament over the past year. Police violently broke up a protest in July 2025 near the Parliament building, as demonstrators demanded reform of the “draconian legislation.” Police also tried to prevent protesters from submitting a memorandum for lawmakers against the “oppressive law.” Nalini Elumalai, senior Malaysia program officer at ARTICLE 19, a global human rights watchdog, condemned the police’s actions in a statement: Peaceful assemblies are crucial in bringing to light topics of legitimate public interest. Yet, those who call for accountability, including the reform of archaic laws that are not in line with international standards, are often repressed or silenced. Authorities continued to invoke the law to threaten protest organizers, which led the Human Rights Commission of Malaysia (SUHAKAM) to issue a reminder in February 2026 addressed to law enforcement bodies. SUHAKAM notes that the Peaceful Assembly Act (PAA) 2012 places responsibilities on the authorities, including the police, to manage assemblies in a lawful, proportionate and facilitative manner. Any enforcement action taken should be grounded in clear legal authority, respect due process, and be appropriate to the circumstances. In April 2026, Amnesty International Malaysia expressed dismay over the lack of any meaningful action to amend the law. More than a year on, there has been no substantive overhaul of the law. Instead, authorities have continued to rely on its repressive provisions, alongside the Penal Code and Minor Offences Act, to investigate and intimidate protesters. Announcements of reform alone are not enough, as people are still being arrested, investigated, and intimidated for speaking out. The government must urgently amend the Peaceful Assembly Act as it has promised, ensuring it is in line with international human rights law. Amnesty International Malaysia’s spokesperson Divya Shesshsan Balakrishnan noted that anti-corruption activists and student protesters continue to be slapped with charges for organizing protests. He added that Malaysia’s global stance on human rights is often inconsistent with its local actions. For example, she argued that though the Malaysian government has been criticizing Israel’s attacks on the Palestinian people, it also ordered the arrest of some individuals who protested Israel’s interception of the Global Sumud Flotilla. In August 2026, civil society groups urged Malaysia’s Parliament to present a clear timeline for reforming the Peaceful Assembly Act. In a press conference, Bersih advocacy officer Anas Nor’azim summed up the sentiments of human rights advocates. “The same promise continues to be repeated, but the long-awaited reform remains stuck in the study phase.” Written by Mong Palatino

Death does not erase the verdict — or the responsibility of officials who turn a convicted war criminal into a hero Originally published on Global Voices Bardhyl Jashari, executive director of Metamorphosis Foundation. Photo in a private archive, used with permission. This article by Bardhyl Jashari was first published in Albanian on portalb.mk on August 31, 2026. An edited version is republished here under a content-sharing agreement between Global Voices and the Metamorphosis Foundation . Death does not erase the verdict. When a war criminal is placed on a pedestal by government officials, it undermines the dignity of the victims, weakens the rule of law, harms the very idea of North Macedonia as a multiethnic society, and compromises the country’s European vision. In the year when North Macedonia marks 35 years of independence , we should have understood by now that a state is not built by glorifying war criminals. The death of Ratko Mladić, the former commander of the Bosnian Serb forces during the 1992–95 Bosnian War , does not change the truth about him: he was neither a war hero nor a victim of The Hague, but a war criminal sentenced to life imprisonment for genocide and other serious crimes. He died this August 27 , while serving a life sentence. In 2017, he was found guilty of genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes, and the verdict was upheld on appeal in 2021. The charges stemmed from the genocide in Srebrenica, persecution, extermination, murder, deportation and forcible transfer, terror and unlawful attacks against civilians in Sarajevo, as well as the taking of UN personnel hostage. His crimes were monstrous, which is why he was dubbed the “ Butcher of the Balkans .” These are not merely political or emotional characterizations, and his guilt is not a matter of personal opinion. Responsibility for genocide and war crimes was established by a judgment of the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals ( IRMCT ) at The Hague. Gravestones at the Srebrenica Genocide Memorial , commemorating 8,372 Bosniak Muslim victims of a massacre committed by Bosnian Serb forces under the command of Ratko Mladić in 1995. Photo by Michael Büker, via Wikimedia Commons ( CC BY-SA 3.0 ). That is why the way some media outlets reported his death to the public is also unacceptable. Writing that he died in The Hague, listing his illnesses and the calls for his release , while failing to clearly explain why he was there , is not neutral reporting. It creates a false biography in which the uniform and military ranks remain, while the victims and crimes disappear. Even more concerning is that the glorification was not limited to comments from citizens. The Democratic Party of Serbs in Macedonia, led by Minister of Local Self-Government Ivan Stoilković , portrayed Mladić as a general who served the army and the people, suggesting that many people would remember him “not because of The Hague.” Screenshot of Instagram post by Dalibor Kitanović, director of the state Agency for Exercising the Rights of Communities of Republic of North Macedonia, featuring convicted war criminal Ratko Mladić and WWII war criminal and Nazi collaborator Draža Mihailović, who was controversially rehabilitated in 2015 , alongside historic Serbian military leaders and text: ‘For the Honorable Cross and Golden Freedom: Generals of the Heavenly Army’, published August 28, and later deleted. Meanwhile, Dalibor Kitanović, director of the Agency for Exercising the Rights of Communities , published a photomontage placing Mladić among the “generals of the heavenly army.” These are not neutral expressions of grief. They elevate a convicted war criminal to the status of a national hero. When a regular citizen does something like this, one might say that we have a societal problem in which empathy is lacking, the crime of genocide is being minimized and relativized, and there is interethnic intolerance, hatred, and so on. But when a public official does this, it becomes an institutional and political scandal, because the message is coming from representatives of the state. It is particularly troubling that this is being done by the head of an institution whose mission, by definition, should be to ensure equal access, respect for differences, and the advancement of the rights of all communities. Macedonia is home to several ethnic and religious communities. For ethnic Bosniak citizens who live here, Srebrenica is not some distant historical event. Glorifying a man convicted of genocide against Bosniaks sends them a message that their pain and dignity matter less. This is a direct blow to interethnic trust and social cohesion, which remains fragile even without such provocations. What also needs to be emphasized is that condemning Mladić does not represent a stance against the Serbian people. On the contrary, it is a rejection of the attempt to identify an entire people with the crimes of one individual and the ideology that caused them. Criminal responsibility is individual, while respect for victims should be universal. Glorifying, denying or minimizing genocide and war crimes is not only morally unacceptable but may also constitute a criminal offence under the law. Article 407-a of the Criminal Code provides for criminal liability for publicly denying, grossly minimizing, approving of or justifying genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes, including when this is done through information systems. Whether the specific posts meet all the elements of a criminal offence should be determined by the prosecutor’s office and the court, institutions which have an obligation to examine the case and determine whether there are grounds for criminal liability, rather than simply ignoring it. However, political and moral responsibility is a separate matter and should not have to wait for the conclusion of judicial proceedings. The resignation or dismissal of a public official can be sought as soon as their conduct is deemed incompatible with the public office they hold, regardless of whether criminal liability is subsequently established. Many political parties, including the Social Democratic Union of Macedonia ( SDSM ), Democratic Union for Integration ( DUI) , the Party of Democratic Action of Macedonia ( SDA ) and the Liberal Democratic Party ( LDP ), condemned the glorification and called for accountability. The VLEN coalition , one of the main ethnic Albanian political blocs in North Macedonia and a junior partner in the VMRO-DPMNE-led government, also reacted . However, their response should be assessed differently, because VLEN is part of the government and shares power with the political entities and officials who glorified the war criminal. Although VLEN in principle condemned the glorification of Ratko Mladić and called for “immediate accountability,” it did not mention either Dalibor Kitanović or the Agency for Exercising the Rights of Communities, which he heads. It also did not directly address the statement by the Democratic Party of Serbs in Macedonia, led by Minister Ivan Stoilković, who is VLEN’s partner in the governing coalition. A condemnation that does not clearly identify who should be held accountable remains incomplete and allows governing partners to hide behind general statements. Ruling party VMRO-DPMNE initially remained silent. On August 30, it stated that the government’s position is based on internationally established legal facts and that officials who supported Mladić should either withdraw their statements or step down from office. However, this reaction is also lukewarm: those responsible are not named, their dismissal is not called for, and the responsibility of Minister Stoilković and the party he leads, which is part of the government, is not addressed directly. In the meantime, Kitanović was effectively given the opportunity to delete or withdraw his post and continue to head the agency. But deleting a post does not erase the views expressed or the disappointment and harm they caused. On July 16, just six weeks before these events, North Macedonia officially endorsed the European Union’s declaration at the OSCE , which states that there is no place in Europe for genocide denial, revisionism, or the glorification of convicted war criminals. Understandably, the posts by some officials do not stop or obstruct North Macedonia’s EU integration process. However, tolerating such views by representatives of the government undermines the credibility of the candidate country and shows that European values are embraced in declarations, but not necessarily in practice. Macedonia cannot condemn the glorification of war criminals at international forums while tolerating the same conduct by its own officials at home. Ratko Mladić is dead. But the ideology that turns a war criminal into a hero remains alive whenever such glorification is tolerated for various party or other interests. The government must clearly show that it chooses the side of the victims, respects the law, and protects our shared future, even when this requires holding its own officials and coalition partners accountable. Without respect for the dignity of every citizen, there can be no social cohesion. Without accepting the truth, there can be no reconciliation. And a state that tolerates the glorification of war criminals cannot claim to be building a European future. Bardhyl Jashari is the executive director of Metamorphosis Foundation . Written by Bardhyl Jashari

I never thought of documenting the Indigenous Tharu folklore until my grandmother left this world. Now she is no more with us, I yearn for those priceless words of wisdom.

Some interesting stories I came across during documentation of Tharu Indigenous folklore Originally published on Global Voices A Tharu woman from Kailali District of Western Nepal with tattoos on her legs. Photo by Indu Tharu, used with permission. This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here . As a child, I used to sit with my grandmother near a borais ( a small earthen pot used to make fire) during the harsh winter days. I would listen to her stories of benevolent and malevolent characters — djinns, spirits, ghosts, witches and wizards, trees, birds and animals that had special significance in the Tharu culture and tradition. She used to sing folk songs and then explain their meaning. I never thought of documenting the Indigenous Tharu folklore until she left this world. Now that she is no more with us, I yearn for those priceless words of wisdom. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to join hands with Amrit Sufi and Subhasish Panigrahi , who have not only been documenting oral culture in India but have also inspired and helped many culture and tradition lovers document their own cultures. Documenting Indigenous folklore is time-consuming work. One needs to spend time with the communities before they are comfortable enough to open up and share their folktales, songs, phrases and idioms, not to mention their personal experiences. While documenting Tharu oral culture in eastern Nepal, I came across many interesting facts that would reveal untold facets of Indigenous stories if researched further. A tattoo has many stories to tell. A fish tattoo on the hand of Bhuti Devi from Nepal's Sunsari District. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary, used with permission. Morangsair: A song of seasonal migration When I recorded a folk song called “Morangsair” or “Morangesari,” which is still sung in the eastern part of Nepal’s southern plains, I learned about the seasonal migration of young men from the Saptari District , in the easternmost part of Madhesh Province to Morang District of Koshi Province in eastern Nepal where it was more fertile and provided work for men wanting to earn some extra money. Sunsari District , named after the Sursair River (nowadays called “Sunsari River”), was part of the Morang District before 1962. Now, we have to cross two rivers, the Koshi River and Sunsari River, to get to Sunsari (earlier Morang) from Saptari. The journey used to be much more difficult in those times, before bridges were built. The folk song is the lament of a young woman who is pleading with her husband not to go to Morang. She talks about the dense forest, the hot climate and the Sursair River, which he would need to cross to get to Morang. However, the song doesn’t mention the Koshi River, which is the biggest river in Nepal and lies ahead of the Sunsari River on the way to Morang. In the video below, Chandrakala Chaudhary from Itahari, Sunsari District, sings “Morangsair”, also called “Morangesari”: Researching further, I learned that the current Koshi River had been flowing many kilometres east of where it is now. In the Indian part, the river has shifted almost 100 kilometres west. Also, the Ganges River is called “Sursuri” or “Sursari” in the Guru Granth Sahib , a sacred Hindu scripture. The Sursair and Koshi Rivers eventually terminate in the Ganges. Biyahi: When a river is named after a married woman Talking with a Tharu elder, Mahabir Chaudhary, in Nepal’s Saptari District, I came across an interesting fact: A river and its tributary have been named after the Tharu words for a married woman. The river has been renamed “Behai” by the Nepali-speaking administrators. However, according to Tharu elders, the river’s original name is “Biyahi,” meaning the “first wife” in Kochila Tharu or Eastern Tharu language. A tributary called “Samdahi” feeds the river. Samdahi is the word for “second wife” in Eastern Tharu. The Samdahi River and Biyahi River, after the confluence, continue flowing as the Biyahi River. Sabudana ke gachhi: The tattoo motif that tells the story of sago pearls Kashia Chaudhary from Nepal's Sunsari District with a sago palm and marigold tattoos on her lower arms. Photo by Sanjib Chaudhary, used with permission. These days, sabudana or sago found in the markets is made mainly from cassava root starch. However, traditionally sago pearls were also made from the pith of sago palms. I came to find out about this process of making sago pearls during an interview with elderly Eastern Tharu-speaking women. One of them showed a tattoo that looked like a palm tree and said that it was sabudana ke gachhi . “Gachhi” is a Tharu word for a tree. She also told me that sabudana used to be made from a palm tree. I then researched further and found that in the past they used to cut down the palm trees, scrape the starchy core from the trunk and process it further to make sago pearls. The tradition is still prevalent in some southeastern countries. There are many more stories I have heard while documenting Tharu oral culture that need to be told to a wider audience. But I still yearn to recall the stories told to me by my grandmother while sitting together by the fireside on chilly winter days. Written by Sanjib Chaudhary

Many sports parks are located in areas controlled by gangs, but Haitian football is not dead Originally published on Global Voices Feature image of a football in the colours of the Haitian flag, on a football field, created using Canva Pro elements. In Haiti, the sport of football creates social cohesion: despite their differences, people from all classes come together on the field. Children from wealthy families, poor backgrounds, and middle-class homes alike get the opportunity to mix by either playing for the same football team, or facing one another as opponents. The same approach informs how players are chosen for the national team ; all social categories are represented based solely on the quality of each player’s talent. Spectators have a similar experience, in that people from all walks of life cross paths to celebrate, support their teams, and share moments of victory or defeat. Naturally, the security crisis that has displaced more than a million people internally and caused thousands of deaths over the last six years has affected every sector of national life. This includes sport in general and football, in particular, since “the beautiful game” is a passion for almost all ages and social groups in Haiti. Despite the country’s lack of modern sports infrastructure, you can see people of every generation playing football everywhere: on school grounds, in the streets, on unpaved fields, in yards and corridors, and in sports parks across the country. For young people from poor and disadvantaged neighbourhoods, football offers an opportunity to join local semi-professional clubs and maybe even play at national level. Since the gang violence has escalated, however, much of the country’s main infrastructure has been damaged through looting, fire, or other means, and sports facilities have not been spared. The FIFA Goal Center in Croix-des-Bouquets, for instance, which trained stars like Melchie Dumornay (Corventina) of Olympique Lyonnais in France, Nérilia Mondésir of Seattle Reign FC in the United States, and Kethna Louis of Montpellier HSC in France, was attacked, looted, and burned by the 400 Mawozo gang led by Wilson Joseph (alias Lanmò San Jou). Likewise, the Sylvio Cator Stadium in southern Port-au-Prince, the home of Haitian national football, and the Haitian Olympic Center in Croix-des-Missions in the city's north, where many young people would train in different sports, suffered major gang attacks in February 2024 and February 2026 , respectively. The area around the Sylvio Cator Stadium is controlled by two powerful gangs, one led by Renel Destina (alias “Ti Lapli” or “Kaporal Lapli”) and the other by Johnson André (alias “Izo 5 Second”). The Olympic Center area is controlled by Claudy Célestin (alias “Chen Mechan” or “Stevenson Pierre”) of the Chen Mechan (“Mean Dog,” in English) gang in Plaine-du-Cul-de-Sac, and Jeff Larose (alias Jeff Gwo Lwa) of the Taliban gang based in Canaan. Because criminal gangs control the main roads leading to the country's Great South and Great North, the regular national championship has halted, forcing the national football league to adapt and organise a special competition so players can keep playing. Many sports parks are located in areas controlled by gangs, which makes the situation worse. Despite all this, Haitian football is not dead. On November 18, 2025, the Grenadiers qualified for the 2026 World Cup, even though no qualifying match was played in Haiti because of the gang violence. Although the national team was eliminated in the first round of the World Cup, their participation brought joy to the Haitian people. The sport continues to put smiles on people’s faces in Haiti. In this year’s Caribbean Football Union (CFU) U14 Challenge Series , which ended on August 23 in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, the Haitian U14 team won the tournament with a series of brilliant performances. Haiti's triumphant U14 football team after their victory. Photo courtesy the Caribbean Football Union (CFU), used with permission. They beat Trinidad and Tobago 4-1 and French Guiana 5-2, lost 1-0 to Puerto Rico (after already qualifying for the semifinals), defeated the host nation 6-1 in the semifinals, and beat Jamaica 4-0 in the final to become Division 1 champions. This victory marked Haiti’s third CFU U14 title, following their previous championship wins in 2021 and 2022. All three titles were secured during a time when the country was going through a crisis. To help these young players participate in the tournament, the Haitian Football Federation (FHF) organised a talent detection tournament across various regions of the island, with participation from several football academies. Young footballers were enrolled in a two-month preparation camp at the Dulaire Sports Complex/Training Center, in the municipality of Ouanaminthe and, more specifically, in the communal section of Haut-Maribahoux, a border area near Dajabón in the Dominican Republic. The young champions returned home on Monday, August 24, to a welcome reception at the diplomatic lounge of the Toussaint Louverture International Airport in Port-au-Prince, organised by the Ministry of Youth, Sports, and Civic Action (MJSAC). During the ceremony, the Minister of Sports highlighted individual performances, including Jerry Petit-Homme, who scored a goal just four or five seconds into the match against the Dominican Republic — one of the fastest goals in football history. Wensley Dumorné was named the Best Player of Division 1, and Jodley Sheeckensley Delmas was named top scorer, with seven goals. Team captain Cedric Clairemond shared a warm message with Haitian football fans, on behalf of all the players: Moun yo mèsi anpil pou lamou nou, jodi a nou chanpyon nou ba nou koup la, mwen fyè anpil paske mwen reprezante peyi'm antan ke kapitèn, sa fè de mwa n ap prepare, nou te motive pou sa, tout objektif la se te chanpyon jodi a nou fè'l, nou swete pou nou rejwi de koup la, ti grenadye yo ap vini pou nou monte pi wo. Thank you everyone so much for your love. Today we are champions and we bring you the trophy. I am very proud to represent my country as captain. We prepared for two months and were very motivated. The goal was to become champions, and today we did it. We hope you enjoy this trophy; the young Grenadiers are coming to reach even higher levels. Sports Minister Phytagore Dumas stated his commitment to supporting these young players in their education and personal growth. According to a statement from his ministry, the young Grenadiers won on the field, and it is now up to the nation to support them towards a future worthy of their talent. The Haitian Football Federation echoed this sentiment : Aktivite jodi a se te pou temwanye yo lanmou ak sipò, pou renouvle angajman nou pou kontinye batay pou leve nivo foutbòl la nan peyi a epi garanti relèv la. Objektif la pa t lòt, se mize sou jenès la jodi a pou reyalize rèv demen yo. Today’s event was to show them love and support, and to renew our commitment to keep fighting to raise the level of football in the country and secure the future. The objective was simple: invest in today’s youth to achieve tomorrow’s dreams. Haiti’s U17 national team is currently preparing at Parc Sainte-Claire in Delmas for the 20th edition of the FIFA U-17 World Cup in Qatar, training and playing friendly matches against local teams to get ready for the tournament, which takes place from November 19 to December 13. Meanwhile, the U20s narrowly missed qualification for the FIFA U-20 World Cup in Chile. On August 31, however, the same team qualified for the men’s football tournament of the 2027 Pan American Games , to be held in Lima, Peru. Haiti earned its spot as the highest-ranked Caribbean team following its performance in the recent Concacaf U-20 Championship . Yet, because of the ongoing violence, especially in the metropolitan area of Port-au-Prince, Haiti itself cannot celebrate as it would like. Even with the U14s’ great performance, the joy did not last long. On the night of August 24, fewer than 24 hours after their victory, armed gangs from the criminal group Viv Ansanm killed around 47 people and kidnapped more than 30 others , including young girls, women, and seniors in the municipality of Kenscoff , a mountain town near the capital. In spite of the challenges, good things keep happening every day in the country. You can see it in culture, art, farming projects, entrepreneurship and sport, especially in parts of the country not under gang control. Perhaps that is football’s most enduring lesson — that in spite of obstacles, you must keep moving forward. Written by Jude Pierre Louis

“The breastfeeding room was always there. But there was no-one to bring my baby to me.” Originally published on Global Voices Workers at a garment factory in Gazipur, Bangladesh. Image via Flickr by Solidarity Center. CC BY 2.0 . In April 2026, Bangladesh’s Parliament amended the country’s labour law , extending maternity benefits for eligible workers from 112 to 120 days, or approximately four months. Yet for many women in the country’s garment factories, the harder question begins when that leave ends: Who cares for their babies while they return to shifts that may last 10 to 14 hours? The pressure is not limited to garment workers. Across Bangladesh, working mothers often depend on relatives or informal care networks, while affordable, quality childcare remains limited . The International Labour Organization (ILO) has noted that Bangladesh’s traditional family-dependent care system is under pressure as patterns of work and migration change. For low-income workers with long or unpredictable hours, that gap can be especially difficult. International brands and factories increasingly point to maternity policies, breastfeeding rooms and on-site daycare facilities as signs of progress. The question is whether those facilities are adequately staffed, accessible during long shifts and genuinely usable. Morsheda, 33, originally from Narsingdi , has worked in the garment industry for 15 years and currently works at a factory in Gazipur. She was interviewed in person by Global Voices in Gazipur in July 2026 for this article. After four months of maternity leave, she returned to work while her five-month-old baby remained with the child’s paternal grandmother. Before reaching the production floor, she prepares meals, cleans the house and gets her older child ready for school. “Buyers come and talk about different policies and workers’ rights. But our duty doesn’t get any shorter. We still work at least 10 hours a day, and with overtime it becomes 13 or 14 hours,” Morsheda said. “Sometimes I worked from eight in the morning until ten at night. My body was exhausted, my breast milk leaked, but I had to clean myself and continue working.” The factory had a breastfeeding room , but access was another matter. “The breastfeeding room was always there. But there was no one to bring my baby to me.” When her older child was an infant, Morsheda’s mother briefly stayed with her and brought the baby to the factory. Later, she relied on a paid caregiver who would not make repeated journeys for breastfeeding. Her five-month-old baby now stays with the child’s paternal grandmother, who brings the infant to the factory twice a day. “I have to finish the hourly production target before I go; otherwise, the supervisor gets angry.” Morsheda said. Her experience reflects a wider childcare problem documented in urban Bangladesh, where formal options can be limited or unaffordable and families piece together care around work. For garment workers, that can mean moving children between grandmothers, paid caregivers and older children. Mina, 38, originally from Rangpur, has worked in the garment industry for around 20 years and currently works in Savar. Global Voices interviewed her by phone call in July 2026. When her child, now five, was an infant, she received 56 days of maternity leave. “When my child was younger, I brought my mother from the village. She looked after my baby for around four or five months. Later, she went back to the village. Then I kept my child with another person by paying money. When I could no longer manage the cost, I kept my child at the factory daycare. But my child became sick there, and I had to take the baby to the hospital. After that, I stopped keeping my child at the daycare.” With no reliable option left, responsibility eventually passed to her elder son. “I knew it was affecting my elder son’s studies, but I had no other option.” Mina said. Both women described factories where women make up more than half of the workforce but daycare space is limited. At Morsheda’s factory, where around 3,000 people work and nearly 2,000 are women, the daycare accommodates only about 12 or 13 children and has two caregivers. Both women also raised concerns about hygiene and the quality of care. A national industry tied to global fashion Bangladesh’s ready-made garment industry generates more than USD 36 billion in exports and employs approximately 4.5 million workers, more than 57 percent of them women . In 2024, around 40 percent of garment exports went to the European Union and another 18 percent to the United States. Garment employment has expanded women’s access to paid work, but women still shoulder most unpaid care work at home. Bangladeshi women spend more than seven times as much time on unpaid care and domestic work as men, according to a national Time Use Survey cited by the ILO. An ILO-supported study found that 54 percent of working parents viewed inadequate childcare as a major barrier to women entering or remaining in employment, while 18 percent said they had left a job because of childcare responsibilities. Bangladesh’s labour law requires establishments with 40 or more women workers to maintain suitable rooms for their children under six, with trained or experienced female caregivers and access for mothers. But that requirement does not answer the practical questions raised by Morsheda and Mina about capacity, staffing and whether mothers can use the facilities during production hours. Beyond Bangladesh The ILO estimates that the global garment industry employs around 94 million workers, nearly 60 percent of them women. The legal protections differ. Bangladesh now provides 120 days (4 months) of maternity benefits for eligible workers and requires childcare rooms in establishments with 40 or more women. Vietnam provides six months of maternity leave; women nursing a child under 12 months are entitled to 60 minutes of paid breaks each working day, and employers are required to assist with daycare or kindergarten facilities or cover part of childcare costs. Cambodia provides 90 days of maternity leave , with half wages and benefits for workers with at least one year’s seniority. During a child’s first year, mothers are entitled to one hour of paid breastfeeding time each workday, while employers with 100 or more women must operate a nursing room and a daycare centre, or in some circumstances cover childcare costs. Yet legal provision does not remove the problem of access. In Vietnam, ILO research found that women made up 74.8 percent of the textile and garment workforce, while 40 percent of workers in the sector worked more than 49 hours a week in 2023. VnExpress reported that public nurseries around industrial zones were limited, private care could be expensive and many preschools closed before factory overtime ended. In Cambodia, World Bank reporting documented similar dependence on family care. Garment worker Srun Saren left two children with her 75-year-old grandmother and expected to leave her job after a third child because adequate care was unavailable. Another worker, Kang Somaly, left garment work after failing to find care for her four-month-old baby and seven-year-old child. Across Bangladesh, Vietnam and Cambodia, women sustain garment production while families absorb much of the childcare that makes their employment possible. From responsible sourcing to meaningful support The idea that support should extend beyond maternity leave is reflected in existing labour programmes. The ILO and UNICEF’s Mothers@Work initiative for Bangladesh’s garment sector identifies seven minimum standards, including paid maternity leave, breastfeeding and childcare facilities, flexible working arrangements, health protection, medical benefits, employment protection and non-discrimination. A 2022 ILO assessment found improvements in factory maternity and breastfeeding policies, while also highlighting women leaving and re-entering employment because of childcare responsibilities. The findings shift attention from the existence of childcare facilities to how they function in practice, including whether workers can use them during long shifts and while meeting production targets. Neither Morsheda nor Mina identified the international brands sourcing from their factories, and their experiences cannot be attributed to any particular company. Their accounts illustrate how childcare responsibilities may remain outside formal factory systems, relying instead on grandmothers, paid caregivers and, in some cases, older children. Bangladesh’s extension of maternity benefits to 120 days has expanded formal maternity protection for eligible workers. However, the experiences of Morsheda and Mina, together with findings from the ILO’s Mothers@Work qualitative assessment , point to continuing childcare challenges after workers return from maternity leave. Written by Maksuda Akter

About 60 to 70 percent of the Ghanaian population depends on the traditional medicine market for their medical care, according to a 2023 study in Frontiers in Pharmacology.

People in rural Ghana rely on traditional plant knowledge for three reasons: Accessibility, cost, and familiarity Originally published on Global Voices Vendor Yaa Akpe sells a branch of African Rosewood (Latin name Dalbergia Saxatilis) at her stall in Accra, Ghana. Photo by Jeslyn Lemke. Used with permission. This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here . T he traditional medicine market in Ghana, West Africa, is thriving, offering countless cures passed down by generations of Indigenous Ga and Twi tribes. As prices for Western pharmaceuticals and Western medical care rise, Ghanaians are relying on the medical remedies they have always turned to: plants. Dr. Kofi Donkor , deputy director of the Center for Plant Medicine Research, and an expert on the medical benefits of many traditional Ghanaian plants, noted: The traditional medicine practitioners themselves, for them, it is a profession. It is something that has been passed down from generation to generation to them. So they know how to use plants properly. Indeed, let me admit that for us in research, our primary source of knowledge, and in botanical research is from the traditional medicine practitioners. It is the knowledge from the practitioners that we try to validate using scientific methods. What we are doing in research is basically trying to validate the traditional knowledge that we get. Plant-based medicine is a big business in Ghana In rural Ghana, women start picking medicinal herbs from both the bush and cultivated plots early in the morning to sell fresh in the capital city of Accra. By mid-morning, they’ve set up their booths piled high with fresh vines, leaves, stems, and bark to sell to customers. Plant-based medicine is a big business in Ghana. The Center for Plant Medicine Research , created by the Ghanaian government in 1976, works with raw plant material to create natural products and treat patients. Their outpatient clinic sees roughly 16,000 patients a month. About 60 to 70 percent of the Ghanaian population depends on traditional medicine markets for their medical care, according to a 2023 study in Frontiers in Pharmacology . Donkor says many people in rural Ghana rely on traditional plant knowledge for three reasons: Accessibility, cost, and familiarity. In an interview with Global Voices, he explained: Indeed the data shows that in most developing countries, in rural communities, traditional medicine forms 80 percent of primary health care… It actually contributes largely to us trying to meet the goals of universal health care. The deep green forests and meadows of rural Ghana have been home to rural villagers for many years, so many villagers are already familiar with the various plants that can heal a disease. Living near these forests makes plant-based medicine an easy, cheaper option for treating disease in rural Ghana, when Western pharmacies are too expensive or far away. Donkor said many rural Ghanaians already know the right plants to treat a problem, and may only visit an herbal practitioner when a more complicated disease is present. He said: So sometimes when you are sick you don’t necessarily have to go to the traditional medicine practitioner in the community to get medication. You just go to your backyard and you know this herb is for malaria, this herb is for typhoid, this herb improves your hemoglobin levels, and you just pluck some, you boil, and you drink. Ongoing research on West African plants Botanical researchers at the Center for Plant Medicine Research are currently studying a full panel of West African plants for their ability to cure diseases, including a green shrub that has shown promising treatment against prostate cancer ( croton membranaceous ). When asked whether consumers can trust the plants sold in Accra’s open-air markets, Donkor cautioned that though vendors are probably selling the right plants, the dosage is really important. If a practitioner knows what they are doing and prescribes the right amount of a plant, it can be a powerful cure for the client. Featured in the above video is Patience, a plant healer who lives in Accra and regularly treats friends and family with traditional plants for many illnesses, including malaria, yeast infections, and colds. Patience shows how the common mother-in-law tongue plant ( Dracaena trifasciata ) can be prepared as a cold bath. She advises users to make a tea bath from the plant’s leaves, and then let it soak into the skin without drying oneself. She says the botanical brew calms anxiety and helps with good sleep. Spiritually, Patience says this plant can keep bad people away from one’s home if you keep it by the door. The scientific research at the Center for Plant Medicine Research, which draws on traditional medicine knowledge, adds legitimacy and international attention to the deep Indigenous knowledge of these plants. As Western drug costs and gas prices continue to rise in Ghana and across West Africa, the traditional medicine market can provide a sustainable source of natural healing for the population. Written by Jeslyn Lemke

If Dambe becomes increasingly commercialised, who establishes the policies governing it? Originally published on Global Voices Dambe fighters at the National Open of the Traditional Sports Tournament in Nigeria. Photo by Nshua Cali-Dibang, used with permission. By Nshua Cali-Dibang This post is part of Global Voices’ August 2026 Spotlight series, “ Indigenous Rights .” This series offers insight into the lives and experiences of Indigenous peoples to build connections across regions, center Indigenous experiences, and share the stories of leaders, activists, community members, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here . As Dambe fighters gather for a contest, the scene can look like a simple fight. Two opponents face one another, surrounded by drums, chants and spectators waiting for the first strike. Yet behind the spectacle is a tradition deeply associated with the Hausa people of Nigeria and West Africa . Dambe is a traditional combat sport historically practised by Hausa communities, particularly among butchers and tradesmen. According to BBC Sport , the sport was associated with festivals and harvest periods and was regarded as a test of bravery. Its history has also been connected to preparing men for warfare and, in some communities, rites of passage. Dambe is going global For generations, therefore, Dambe has existed within particular communities and social relationships. But today, the sport is moving beyond those traditional settings. Its appearance on social media has introduced it to audiences far beyond Nigeria. Dambe Warriors , for example, used YouTube to transform local competitions into content for a global audience, with millions of views coming from outside Nigeria. This visibility presents an important opportunity. Greater exposure can create new audiences, income and recognition for fighters. BBC Sport reported that Dambe's online popularity had grown dramatically, while promoters hoped the sport could move beyond its local origins and become internationally recognised . But visibility also raises a question about who gets to define Dambe as it enters the mainstream. Connected beliefs and traditions One of the clearest examples is the spiritual dimension surrounding some Dambe fighters. Reporting by Al Jazeera documented fighters wearing amulets, undertaking fortification rituals and using herbal preparations before competitions. These practices demonstrate that, for some practitioners, Dambe is connected to beliefs and traditions that extend beyond the physical contest. This raises an important question about how Indigenous cultural practices are interpreted. An object that may appear to an outside observer as decoration can carry a completely different meaning for the person who wears it. Rather than deciding what these practices mean from outside, their meaning should be understood through the voices of the people and communities who practise them. Influence of professional sporting structures Dambe is also changing structurally. Modern organisers are introducing rules intended to make competitions safer and easier to follow. According to BBC Sport , African Warriors introduced three three-minute rounds, a points system, and clearer definitions of knockdowns as part of efforts to make the sport safer and fairer. These changes are not necessarily a threat to tradition. Professionalisation can bring better opportunities, safety measures, sponsorship and income for fighters. The same BBC report documented fighters earning prize money and organisers attracting international interest. Yet modernisation raises another question: what should be preserved, and who decides? The question of preservation If Dambe becomes increasingly commercialised, who establishes the policies governing it? Should decisions come primarily from government and sports administrators, private promoters, cultural institutions, traditional authorities, or the communities that have historically practised the sport? There may not be a simple answer. Regulation can provide structure and safety, while professionalisation can create opportunities that traditional competitions may not have been able to offer. But if decisions about the future of Dambe are made without meaningful participation from its communities, there is a risk that the sport's cultural context becomes secondary to its commercial value. This is where Dambe becomes relevant to Indigenous rights. Dambe’s future Cultural heritage is not simply something to be displayed during festivals or packaged for outside audiences. It can be living knowledge, practised by communities and adapted by each generation. The question is therefore not whether Dambe should remain exactly as it was in the past. Communities themselves may want the sport to change. The more important question is whether they have a meaningful voice in deciding how it changes. As Dambe moves from community arenas to YouTube channels, organised championships and professional sporting structures, its future should involve the people who have carried the tradition forward. Fighters, elders, organisers, cultural practitioners and community members should be part of conversations about its regulation, representation, commercialisation and preservation. The future of Dambe does not have to be a choice between tradition and modernity. The sport can grow while remaining connected to its cultural roots. But growth should not mean that the communities that gave Dambe its meaning become spectators in the story of its future. The question is no longer simply how far Dambe can go. It is who gets to decide where it goes. Written by Guest Contributor

Online harm is shaping public life as strongly as offline violence Originally published on Global Voices Image by Chad Madden on Unsplash . ( Free to use ). For Kgomotso Modise, a South African journalist covering courts and criminal justice, online harassment has become a daily reality. “The insults are very sexual,” she explains to Global Voices in an interview, noting that her male colleagues expressing similar views never face comparable abuse. Her opinions are routinely sexualized and delegitimized. When she posted content criticizing extrajudicial killings in her country, the backlash escalated into a violation: trolls retrieved childhood photos from her Facebook account and posted them alongside threats of sexual violence against her and her underage niece. But the harm extends far beyond individual journalists. Cybercrime accounts for more than 30 percent of all reported crime in West and East Africa, according to Interpol’s 2025 Africa Cyberthreat Assessment Report . Two-thirds of African member countries surveyed said that cyber-related crimes accounted for a medium-to-high share of all crimes, with online scams, ransomware, business email compromise, and digital sextortion among the most reported threats. Digital threats now reach ordinary users, public institutions, and essential services, creating conditions where intimidation and harmful content can spread easily. Across Africa, Reporters Without Borders has documented sustained online harassment and surveillance targeting women journalists in Africa, noting that digital abuse has become an emerging barrier to press freedom. This year’s 16 Days of Activism (November 25 to December 10) against gender-based violence (GBV) comes at a time when online harm is shaping public life as much as offline violence. Women who comment on public issues, work in journalism, or engage in civic life face increasing hostility that limits their participation. Technology-facilitated violence as part of GBV When I launched the Digital Dada podcast , I wanted to create a space where women journalists could speak openly about their experiences. What I discovered through interviewing dozens of colleagues is that online violence has become one of the fastest-growing forms of gender-based harm in Kenya and across Africa. It manifests as threats, cyberstalking, impersonation, intrusive monitoring, and manipulated content designed to shame or silence women. Every single journalist I’ve interviewed has faced online abuse. The attacks range from targeted harassment and cyberbullying to coordinated trolling campaigns and deeply gendered assaults. Their visibility as women in the media makes them especially vulnerable, turning their online presence into a frequent site for hostility and misogyny. The escalation is terrifying. UN Women warns that what starts small on screens, a message, a comment, or a post, can spiral into a torrent of threats and violence in real life. Private photos are taken without consent, false claims spread within seconds, locations are tracked, and artificial intelligence tools are used to produce deepfakes aimed at shaming and silencing women. I've documented the toll. A television news anchor shared that she began to self-censor because of the fear of continued victimization. Another disclosed that she sought therapy following extreme trolling. Another reported that attacks escalated beyond her, extending to her husband and children. Several journalists have made the difficult decision to deactivate their social media accounts entirely to safeguard their mental well-being. When journalists self-censor, society loses. Freedom of information is jeopardized. These are not isolated incidents; they are systematic attacks designed to push women out of public discourse. Voices from the Luanda summit Digital safety featured prominently at the recent African Union-European Union Summit in Luanda, Zambia. In an interview during the meeting, Ambassador Liberata Mulamula , special envoy to the chairperson of the African Union Commission on Women, Peace and Security, described digital violence as a new threat to peace and security and noted that online spaces can be especially harsh for women in leadership. She spoke openly about the emotional strain caused by persistent abuse, and encouraged women to remain visible online. She stated, “We have mobilised women to use the media and not fear it, because our voices must be heard.” She added that the African Union has created a network of women media professionals to counter misinformation and support survivors of online harm. She also pointed to the African Union’s adoption of its first convention on ending violence against women and girls. She said that implementation must place cybersecurity at the centre and noted that the African Union Women, Peace and Security Forum in Tunisia, which was held on Dec 9 and 10, would address digital violence directly. Ambassador Henriette Geiger , ambassador of the European Union to Kenya and permanent representative to UNEP and UN-Habitat, highlighted the need for stronger cybersecurity capacity as countries digitize essential services. She said the European Union and Kenya are engaged in a data adequacy dialogue to align Kenya’s data protection standards with those of the EU. If successful, she added, Kenya could become a trusted digital hub capable of processing sensitive data securely. Together, the remarks showed a shared recognition that safer digital spaces are essential for women’s participation, equality, and the future of digital cooperation between Africa and Europe. Why the crisis is growing and what must change The rapid expansion of internet access has increased exposure to harmful content. Interpol warns that online threats now target ordinary users and public institutions, making harmful narratives difficult to control. Local reporting shows similar trends. A recent report in Kenya found that many Kenyan women have withdrawn from digital platforms after experiencing harassment linked to political and social discussions. Survivors described feeling unsafe even offline, noting that digital abuse often follows them into their homes. Women seeking political office face the same pressures. A briefing by the Westminster Foundation for Democracy found that candidates face impersonation, doxxing, cyberstalking, and image manipulation intended to discourage them from entering public life. Weak reporting systems and inconsistent policy enforcement add to the problem. Although Kenya has data protection and cybercrime laws , many survivors do not receive timely support, and this is the norm in most African countries. Platforms often remove harmful content slowly, and clear reporting pathways remain limited. These gaps allow online violence to spread even as more services move online. Improving cybersafety requires stronger support services, better platform responses, and clearer mechanisms for reporting incidents. Digital literacy programmes can help users understand safer practices, particularly in rural and low-income communities. Platforms must strengthen their tools for identifying abuse and responding more effectively. Policy frameworks in most African nations provide foundations, but consistent enforcement and adequate resources are needed. Regional cooperation can also support better cybersecurity standards and shared knowledge of emerging threats. This year’s 16 Days of Activism highlighted the need to recognise digital violence as real violence, and remind the public that there is #NoExcuse for online abuse. Written by Cecilia Maundu

Africa could be the world’s next major distribution hub and consumer base for electric vehicles Originally published on Global Voices A road in Casablanca, Morocco. Morocco could play a leading role in Africa’s electric vehicle transition. Image from Wikimedia Commons . License CC BY 3.0 . This article was submitted as part of the Global Voices Climate Justice fellowship, which pairs journalists from Sinophone and Global Majority countries to investigate the effects of Chinese development projects abroad. Find more stories here . Over the last decade, Chinese automakers like BYD, Xpeng, Chery, Wuling, and others have expanded aggressively into the United States and Europe , partly because oversaturation in the domestic market and ongoing price war have made it challenging for automakers to stay profitable. In light of this, Beijing has encouraged Chinese enterprises to go abroad and enter overseas markets through innovation and attractively low prices — especially through green products such as electric vehicles (EVs). However, these markets may no longer be ideal for Chinese automakers looking for foreign buyers. In September 2024, then-US President Joe Biden imposed 100 percent tariffs on Chinese EVs , with current President Donald Trump bumping this to 154 percent in June 2025 . Meanwhile, the European Union has launched investigations into whether Beijing’s national strategy has driven the industry to utilize unfair subsidies. From Washington to Brussels, Chinese automakers face accusations of dumping EVs at unfair prices and damaging the global market. The EU implemented trade barriers in October 2024 to combat this . Facing strong resistance in established automotive markets, many Chinese EV companies are turning to the Global South and shifting their market strategy toward low- and middle-income countries. Africa as the next EV frontier In the new global trade landscape, Africa is no longer just a source of raw materials such as cobalt, lithium, and rare earths — the coveted minerals that feed global battery production. It is an attractive consumer market for automakers looking for new customers and is emerging as a site for production and assembly in China’s electric vehicle supply chain. Read more: Is China responsible for the illegal extraction of mineral resources by its companies in Africa? China's leading automobile maker , BYD, has announced plans to nearly triple its dealership network in South Africa by 2026. Analysts called this a swift move to consolidate market share while competitors hesitate . Another Chinese automobile giant, Chery, is also expanding rapidly across South Africa and Kenya, targeting middle-class buyers with relatively affordable models. According to RFI , Chery South Africa CEO Tony Liu said: 南非是通往非洲大陆的重要门户。南非有非常成熟的汽车金融体系，也有成熟的消费者，他们对售后服务有很高的期望。因此，我们实际上认为南非对我们来说是一个非常具有战略意义的国家和市场。 South Africa is an important gateway to the African continent. South Africa has a very mature auto finance system and also mature consumers who have high expectations for after-sales service. Therefore, we actually consider South Africa to be a very strategic country and market for us. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa tours the Headquarters of BYD and Huawei in Guangdong Province during a visit to China in September 2024 and poses with a BYD model car. Image from South Africa’s GovernmentZA official Flickr account. CC BY-ND 2.0 To facilitate continental battery production, Chinese company Gotion High Tech is building Africa’s first EV gigafactory in Kenitra, Morocco. Moroccan authorities celebrated this project as a positive development that could help the country pivot from industries focused on raw extraction to higher-value production . The government press release read : Cet investissement stratégique majeur, qui porte sur la réalisation d'un écosystème industriel complet de fabrication de batteries électriques à Kenitra, est non seulement la première « gigafactory » qui sera réalisée au Maroc, mais également la première du genre de toute la région Middle East & Africa, consolidant ainsi la position de leader régional du Royaume dans l’industrie automobile et la transition énergétique. This major strategic investment, which involves the creation of a complete industrial ecosystem for the manufacturing of electric batteries in Kenitra, is not only the first ‘gigafactory’ to be built in Morocco, but also the first of its kind in the entire Middle East and Africa region, thus consolidating the Kingdom’s position as a regional leader in the automotive industry and the energy transition. The Gotion High Tech gigafactory is set to open in June 2026, and its location could make it a significant export base for European and African markets. In countries that have traditionally enjoyed warm relations with China, such as Ghana and Kenya, Chinese ministries and state-linked associations are busy holding automotive summits with African governments. New investments in assembly plants and charging infrastructure are packaged as part of “ green mobility partnerships .” Together, these moves show a deliberate attempt to weave Africa into China’s global EV map — not just as a supplier, but as a distribution hub and consumer base. Africa’s own EV momentum To understand the depth of this shift, it’s important to note that African states are not merely passive recipients of Chinese capital. Many countries are proactively embracing the EV transition. According to regional analysis from WowAfrica, a Chinese-language news site about investment in Africa, African countries can be sorted into two categories regarding their approach to EVs: First, established auto producers such as South Africa, Morocco, and Egypt see EVs as a natural extension of their automotive sectors. These narratives align well with China’s goal to create a stronghold in the African market. Secondly, there are the automotive newcomers, such as Kenya, Rwanda, and Uganda . These countries lack legacy industries but view EVs as a chance to leapfrog into cleaner, high-tech manufacturing. While each government has its own agenda, all are trying to leverage the EV transition and tie it into their national economic development plans. For example, Kenya has become one of Africa’s most dynamic EV hubs, boosted by tax incentives , a rapid deployment of charging stations, and governmental support in integrating EV development into the national energy strategy. The capital city, Nairobi, has launched a fleet of electric buses to make its public transportation system greener. An electric bus charging in Nairobi, Kenya. Screenshot from YouTube video . Fair use. A star startup company, Roam Motors in Kenya, has secured financing from the US government’s development finance institution (DFC) to scale electric buses and motorcycles , while German development agency GIZ is working with the government to upgrade transport efficiency. Another example is Uganda’s introduction of a National Electric Mobility Policy in 2018. The policy offers favorable exemptions from VAT, import duties, and tax cuts for EVs, batteries, and charging equipment. EV24.Africa, a group promoting EV adoption on the continent, explained the government's long-term plans: “ The government aims to encourage EV adoption despite higher costs, targeting full electrification of public transport by 2030 and passenger vehicles by 2040 .” Meanwhile, Morocco is in an especially unique position on the continent, as a potential gateway into African, European, and US markets. An estimated 80–90 percent of Morocco’s vehicle output is currently exported to Europe, second only to China . The Moroccan government has announced plans to leverage its robust manufacturing network to ensure up to 60 percent of its exported cars are electric by 2030. Moroccan officials have highlighted the country’s position as a free-trade partner with raw-material suppliers and European buyers, making it a logical hub for battery gigafactories. China has strongly welcomed such policies. For years, Morocco has been painted as one of the most essential parts of China’s Belt and Road initiative (BRI), its global infrastructure, transportation, and energy connectivity project. The EU’s latest tariff controls on Chinese EVs have made Morocco a highly discussed and enticing new hub for Chinese companies. Global Exhibition, a Shanghai-based group facilitating business expansion into Western Asia and North Africa, explained the strategy behind the shift to Morocco: 对中国而言，摩洛哥不仅是其电动汽车行业离岸外包的重要选择，更是其全球战略棋局中的一枚关键棋子。通过布局摩洛哥，中国不仅能够避开欧美的保护主义政策，继续将产品销往西方市场，还能够进一步拓展其在非洲和全球的影响力。 For China, Morocco is not only an important offshore outsourcing option for its electric vehicle industry but also a strategic pawn in its global game plan. By establishing a strong presence in Morocco, China can sidestep US and European protectionist policies to keep selling into Western markets, while at the same time expanding its influence across Africa and the broader global stage. A large number of Chinese media and state-related research institutes are similarly praising Morocco for its essential role in boosting China’s global EV strategy. But it’s not the only player trying to get into the EV production game. The South African government announced in March 2025 that it would commit ZAR 1 billion (USD 54.27 million) to boost its electric vehicle (EV) production by 2035. This investment aims to transform the country’s automotive industry by focusing on EVs, batteries, and supporting infrastructure. The local government believes “the plan aligns with global sustainability goals and aims to reduce greenhouse gas emissions while maintaining South Africa’s position as a leading automotive hub in sub-Saharan Africa.” Based on this momentum, it’s fair to say that Africa is not just being “plugged into” China’s supply chain, but is also trying to set its own terms in the global EV race. A BYD outlet. Screenshot from YouTube . The promise and the trap Chinese state narratives, its companies, and national policymakers all believe China’s EV market integration with Africa is a “win-win” — Africa gets jobs, infrastructure, and rapid clean mobility integration, while China maintains production volumes and global reach. But the reality is more complex. Many analysts have warned that Africa risks being locked into the lower ladder of the EV value chain. Assembly plants and dealerships rarely transition into advanced manufacturing or technology transfer, according to a report by Africa Confidential . Another risk is the uneven benefits. Even Morocco’s gigafactory, though ambitious, is deeply tied to Chinese-controlled networks , raising questions about sovereignty and bargaining power. A long-term risk is the so-called Green Paradox — EVs are undeniably more climate-friendly than gas cars in the long term, but the initial extraction of cobalt, lithium, and rare earths needed to manufacture them often brings environmental and social damage if the mining is unregulated, careless, and exploitative. Without stronger governance, Africa risks replicating old extractive patterns under a “green” banner . The result may be dependency hidden in language of sustainability: Africa as a peripheral supplier and low-cost consumer market in a Chinese-led system. To combat this, green advocates insist that local voices must be heard and included in decision-making processes. If the green transition is to be just and equitable, African people must be included and have an equal stake. Written by Jean Sovon , Vivian Wu

Multiple whistleblower protection bills have stalled in Nigeria’s National Assembly over the years Originally published on Global Voices Panelists at the National interactive forum on whistleblower protection for Federal High Court Judges. Photo by AFRICMIL. Used with permission. Nigeria’s whistleblower policy , introduced on December 21, 2016, was designed as a quick fix to expose systemic corruption. It promised whistleblowers between 2.5 and 5 percent of recovered looted public funds. However, while the policy incentivizes disclosures, it does not guarantee protection. Instead, whistleblowers often face surveillance, dismissal, or even death threats . Multiple attempts to pass a whistleblower protection bill over the years have stalled in Nigeria’s National Assembly, leaving whistleblowers legally vulnerable. Nigeria’s fragile whistleblowing framework On September 18, 2025, Federal High Court judges and civil society advocates debated on Nigeria’s fragile whistleblowing framework at a national interactive forum convened by the African Centre for Media & Information Literacy (AFRICMIL) for federal high court judges, in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital city. Harry Ogwuche, the Director of Economic and Social Rights at Nigeria’s National Human Rights Commission (NHRC), shared during the debate: Protecting whistleblowers is not an abstract anti-corruption strategy; it is a direct, proactive investment in the enjoyment of fundamental human rights as enshrined in Chapter IV of our Constitution and various international covenants Nigeria is party to. The role of judges in protecting whistleblowers While seeking the support of judges in the advocacy for a whistleblower protection law in Nigeria, Chido Onumah, Coordinator of AFRICMIL, said: Judges are key actors in any judicial system. Therefore, the forum aims to provide a platform for interaction with judges on whistleblowing, its legal framework, and the critical role they play in ensuring justice for whistleblowers and handling corruption cases effectively. At the forum, persecuted whistleblower Yisa Usman shared how he was pressured, intimidated, and sidelined from his profession after blowing the whistle on his company. Usman is a chartered accountant who worked in the finance and accounts department, but after exposing corruption, he was redeployed to the ICT department, transferred to different states, and subsequently fired. He said: Because I decided to speak up, I am jobless. I was ostracized and frustrated to accept the norm. To remain silent is to be complicit. To achieve results as a whistleblower, it is important to be familiar with the laws because if you know the laws that guide and protect you, you will be able to challenge them. Despite several attempts to detain me, I am walking free because of the judiciary. Existing and pending laws to protect whistleblowers Nigeria’s Constitution and several statutes already contain protections that could be extended to whistleblowers. These include: Section 39 of the 1999 Constitution , which guarantees freedom of expression. Section 6(4)(c) of the National Human Rights Commission Act prohibits harassment of individuals who cooperate with the Commission. Anti-corruption laws like the EFCC Act and ICPC Act provide limited safeguards. The Freedom of Information Act protects disclosures made in good faith. In practice, these fragmented provisions are inconsistently applied, and without a unified protection law, whistleblowers continue to face retaliation. Nigeria’s situation contrasts sharply with that of its regional neighbors. Ghana’s Whistleblower Act (Act 720) and South Africa’s Protected Disclosures Act provide dedicated mechanisms. Vladimir Radomirović, a Serbian journalist and co-founder of Pištaljka , an organization based in Belgrade that provides free legal aid and protection to whistleblowers, shared his experiences of building alliances with the judiciary to strengthen whistleblower protection in Serbia. He said: The judges have a very influential role in protecting whistleblowers in Serbia, and we try to work with judges and allow them to hear from whistleblowers about how they are retaliated against for protecting the public interest. AFRICMIL and its partners urged the Nigerian legislature to urgently enact the whistleblower protection law, one that guarantees anonymity, provides penalties against retaliation, and establishes an independent body to oversee cases. Whistleblowers and civil society organizations appealed to judges to embrace a proactive role in safeguarding whistleblowers. They called for progressive adjudication that interprets existing laws in the spirit of transparency and protection for defenders; expedited hearings to ensure justice is not delayed and therefore denied; the awarding of exemplary damages against retaliators to serve as a deterrent; and above all, the protection of anonymity in court procedures. These recommendations, they argued, are vital if the judiciary is to strengthen trust, uphold justice, and ensure that whistleblowing truly serves as a tool for accountability in Nigeria. Written by Pamela Ephraim

A United Nations Women poll found that 58 percent of girls and young women have experienced at least one form of online harassment, often before they turn twenty-five.

‘Technology-facilitated gender-based violence isn’t a side effect of digital growth. It’s the price women pay for being online.’ Originally published on Global Voices Women using social media. Image by cottonbro studio on Pexels ( Free to use ). In early 2025, researchers tracking African elections uncovered a wave of AI-generated deepfake videos targeting women journalists and female candidates in Ghana, Senegal, and Namibia — synthetic clips designed to humiliate and discredit them, and drive them offline. The attack was chillingly effective, echoing a broader pattern in which technology-facilitated gender-based violence (TFGBV) silences women’s voices at precisely the moments they most need to be heard. A global survey released in April shows the scale of the problem. More than half of women entrepreneurs in low- and middle-income countries report online harassment, and four in ten have pulled back from public life to protect themselves. Among women journalists, the picture is worse, with nearly three-quarters saying they have endured abuse that is often tied to disinformation and deepfakes. Yet most digital platforms still act on safety only after harm has spread, treating protection as an upgrade instead of a core function. Safety by design flips that script by embedding privacy, consent, and abuse detection into code and business rules from the start. What exactly is TFGBV — and why does “Safety by Design” matter? Technology-facilitated gender-based violence ( TFGBV ) is “any act that is committed, assisted, aggravated, or amplified through digital tools and ICTs that results in, or is likely to result in, physical, sexual, psychological, social, political, or economic harm.” It ranges from image-based abuse, deep-fake pornography, and sextortion to doxxing, cyber-stalking, hate speech, and gendered disinformation. Because the content can be replicated, searched, and shared indefinitely, the harm is portable across platforms and persistent over time, blurring the boundary between “online” and “offline” abuse. A United Nations Women poll found that 58 percent of girls and young women have experienced at least one form of online harassment, often before they turn twenty-five. In Kenya, a 2024 study of university students found that almost 90 percent witnessed technology-facilitated abuse on campus timelines, and nearly four in ten had been targets themselves. These numbers point to a crisis where victims frequently respond by self-censoring, stepping back from public life, and losing economic or political opportunities, which in turn suppresses diverse voices in civic discourse. Support Global Voices as we publish more articles like this one For more information about this campaign, please go here. And that’s why Safety by Design matters. The Australian eSafety Commissioner frames Safety by Design as putting “user safety and rights at the center of product development,” encouraging companies to anticipate, detect, and eliminate online harms before they occur rather than “moving fast and breaking things.” Safety by Design provides a common vocabulary and measurable benchmarks for safety. In short, it moves TFGBV prevention from an afterthought to a design requirement, the digital equivalent of fitting seatbelts in every car. Responsibility spans the entire ecosystem, encompassing platforms, regulators, developers, and civic groups, rather than resting on engineers alone. The role of technology developers and civil society Civil society is often the first place survivors turn and the last line of accountability when companies or states fall short. Across Africa, feminist tech collectives, digital-rights NGOs, and faith-based survivor networks are converting lived experience into data, tools, and hard policy wins, while plugging into global coalitions for bigger leverage. East African trainers from the Safe Sisters network travel from market towns to radio stations, teaching women journalists how to spot spyware and store evidence in the cloud. South African coders behind the GRIT mobile app are demonstrating what safety-first engineering looks like in practice. After conversations with survivors of domestic violence, the team built an encrypted vault that lets users record evidence and store court details in a cloud space that only they can unlock. The feature has pushed downloads of the app past 10,000 , and prosecutors say the secure files are already strengthening cases in Johannesburg courts. In Kampala , Uganda, a feminist civic tech group called Pollicy has taken a different route. It's Digital Safe Tea game walks players through a choose-your-own-adventure story in which online harassment and doxxing emerge as plot twists. Every decision a player makes is logged anonymously, and the data set is shared with local start-ups so they can close design gaps before the product ships. Ugandan university clubs now use the game in digital safety workshops. These local experiments draw on a global handbook. Australia’s eSafety Commissioner publishes an open-access Safety by Design toolkit that guides developers through risk reviews and privacy by default settings. Kenyan regulators cite t he same resource in a draft rule that would require all new social apps to file safety assessments before launch. As African coders adopt the framework, the hope is that every upload button and contact list will carry built-in defenses long before threats appear. The role of social media platforms Social networks say they are building safer feeds, yet the spotlight has now shifted to what they do for African users specifically. TikTok took a public step last year when it launched a Sub-Saharan Africa Safety Advisory Council in Nairobi and asked lawyers, journalists, and digital rights advocates from Kenya, Ghana, Senegal, and South Africa to critique every policy tweak before code changes go live. Council members meet quarterly and publish minutes so watchdog groups can track whether recommendations turn into product updates. Regional apps are following suit. Ayoba, the chat and content service backed by MTN, has updated its servers to screen every photo against a list of banned images supplied by domestic gender rights groups. Engineers say the check runs in milliseconds and blocks non-consensual intimate pictures before anyone can forward them. Users who flag missed material now see faster takedowns as the filter learns from each report. African survivors are also plugging into a global safety net. Stop NCII , a tool developed by an alliance led by Meta , lets a victim create a digital fingerprint of an intimate photo without uploading the file. That fingerprint travels to dozens of platforms, which then block any upload that matches it. The role of governments Ghana has been on the cutting edge of preventing TFGBV since its Cybersecurity Act took effect in 2020, turning the sharing of intimate images without consent into a criminal offence that can draw a three-year sentence. South Africa soon followed with its Cybercrimes Act, which makes revenge pornography illegal and applies the same duty of care to anyone who reposts the material. Kenya is now in public hearings on draft child online safety rules that would force every social platform and messaging app to file a safety impact assessment before launch. Regional bodies want those national moves to add up. The African Union (AU) Child Online Safety and Empowerment Policy , adopted last year, calls on all member states to write corporate duties into law and to publish public dashboards that track takedown speeds and language coverage. Criminal statutes set the floor, but design mandates and transparency hooks raise the ceiling. When African legislatures pair Ghana-style image-abuse laws with Kenya-style risk-assessment duties and measure progress against AU benchmarks, platforms have no wiggle room to treat TFGBV safeguards as an optional add-on. Borrowing proven mechanisms from Australia’s Online Safety Act can accelerate the process, ensuring every new feature that ships is safe by default, no matter which continent codes it. Technology-facilitated gender-based violence isn’t a side effect of digital growth. It’s the price women pay for being online. The good news is that every piece of Africa’s safety-by-design puzzle is finally on the table. From Lagos to Nairobi, developers are hard-coding privacy safeguards, platforms are inviting African experts into the engine room, governments are embedding design mandates into licenses and AU policy, and civil society networks are feeding survivor data directly into product sprints and policy drafts. It is only th rough such continental collaboration and follow through that Africa might be able to reduce online gender-based-violence. Written by Cecilia Maundu

Even as Africa bears 25 percent of the global disease burden, it remains sidelined in vaccine production Originally published on Global Voices A nurse prepares to administer a vaccine dose in Ghana, 2021. Image by World Health Organization, CC BY-SA 3.0 IGO , via Wikimedia Commons . Africa consumes nearly 25 percent of all globally produced vaccines. Annually, more than 100 major disease outbreaks take place on the continent, which is largely attributed to low vaccination coverage coupled with weak health and surveillance systems. Despite being home to more than 1.4 billion people , which makes up about 18.83 percent of the global population , Africa imports 99 percent of its vaccines and 90 percent of its medical supplies . This dependency proved catastrophic during the COVID-19 pandemic , as countries hoarded doses and tightened export controls, leaving Africa at the back of the queue, even as its most vulnerable communities bore the brunt of the virus and its socioeconomic aftershocks. Vaccine manufacturing in Africa Decades ago, vaccine manufacturing was not a foreign concept in Africa. Nigeria, for example, once had one of the continent’s most vibrant production hubs. This laboratory contributed tremendously to the elimination of smallpox from West Africa , which today, remains the only human infectious disease to have been eradicated globally. However, the production facility was shut down in 1991 by the Nigerian government, and has yet to commence vaccine production three decades later. In other parts of the continent, like Senegal , yellow fever vaccine production began as early as 1937 at the Institut Pasteur de Dakar (IPD), which remains one of only four WHO pre-qualified manufacturers globally. South Africa ’s vaccine production also dates back to the early 1900s through the South African Institute for Medical Research . These historic efforts were proof that African countries once actively contributed to global vaccine supply chains, until dependency on foreign aid, underinvestment in research and development, poor knowledge transfer, and emigration of highly trained professionals eroded much of that capacity. The annual loss to the African health sector from the brain drain of medical professionals is estimated at USD 2 billion . Today, the imbalance is stark. As of 2022, Asia produced 43 percent of the world’s vaccines, including COVID-19 vaccines, while North America and Europe accounted for 35 percent and 20 percent , respectively. In contrast, Africa meets just 0.2 percent of its own vaccine needs through domestic manufacturing. Recognizing this urgent gap, African heads of state in 2021 agreed to the Saving Lives and Livelihoods (SLL) initiative, an ambitious USD 1.5 billion strategy to vaccinate at least 70 percent of the continent’s population and spark a homegrown revolution in health security. Led by the Africa Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (Africa CDC) and funded by the Mastercard Foundation , SLL’s first phase helped deliver approximately 35 million COVID-19 vaccine doses , supplied 6 million units of personal protective equipment (PPE) to 12 countries, and facilitated the expansion of genomic sequencing labs from just two before the pandemic to 40 across the continent. Beyond pandemic response, SLL also aims to lay the foundation for a sustainable vaccine manufacturing ecosystem through the Partnership for African Vaccine Manufacturing (PAVM) . As part of this vision, African leaders have committed to achieving vaccine sovereignty by producing 60 percent of the continent’s vaccines by 2040 , in Africa. Clinical trials of vaccines in Africa Even as Africa bears 25 percent of the global disease burden , including malaria, yellow fever, and cholera, it remains a marginal player in vaccine science. Less than three percent of global clinical trials take place on the continent. As a result, most medicines are developed through clinical trials conducted outside Africa without considering the implications of their use in African patients or within African health systems. Addressing a common misconception during a journalist workshop organized by the Africa CDC in June 2025, Dr. Alemayehu Duga , a pharmacovigilance specialist with the Africa CDC, said: Clinical trials are not about using Africa as a testing ground. They are about generating the evidence needed to protect African lives effectively. It helps us develop vaccines for African bodies. A core pillar in the Saving Lives and Livelihoods (SLL) initiative, pharmacovigilance strengthens safety surveillance networks and enhances real-time reporting on adverse events following immunization (AEFI) and adverse events of special interest (AESI) , using real-time and improved tools. The first phase of SLL operated in 29 countries across East, West, and Southern Africa , training health workers, improving cold chain logistics, and delivering vaccines. By the end of the phase, 53 percent of the target population in participating countries had been fully vaccinated. The situation room at the Africa Centres for Disease Control and Prevention, Africa CDC headquarters in Addis Ababa. Photo by Adesewa Olofinko. Used with permission. The cost of under-investing in health Aspiration 1 of the African Union Agenda 2063 envisions a healthy, well-nourished, and empowered population. In alignment with this vision, the African Health Strategy (2016–2030) urges member states to prioritize and invest in health through better inter-sectoral collaboration. Yet despite these blueprints, many African governments continue to fall short in public health funding. Under the Abuja Declaration , adopted in 2021, African Union (AU) member states pledged to allocate at least 15 percent of their annual national budgets to health. More than two decades later, that commitment remains largely unmet. Only three countries — Rwanda, Botswana, and Cape Verde have consistently met or exceeded this target . In contrast, over 30 AU member states remain well below the 10 percent benchmark, with countries like Nigeria, Chad, and the Central African Republic allocating as little as five to seven percent of their national budgets to health. Despite these persistent funding gaps, countries like Rwanda and Morocco have made significant progress in pandemic preparedness and local pharmaceutical production . Morocco now ranks second in pharmaceutical production volume on the continent, trailing only South Africa, whose pharmaceutical market is projected to generate USD 13.63 billion by 2025. Rwanda, in particular, stands out as a global health success story, with over 90 percent immunization coverage among children aged 12 to 23 months as recommended by the World Health Organization (WHO). Across Africa, at least 25 vaccine manufacturing projects are in various stages of development, including initiatives in Nigeria, South Africa, Senegal, Egypt, and Kenya. To ensure regulation and access, the African Medicines Agency aims to harmonize regulatory frameworks, while the Africa CDC is working toward supporting the WHO prequalification of eight locally made vaccines by 2030. If the COVID-19 pandemic taught Africa anything, it is that when the next global health crisis hits, no one is coming to save her. Despite the continent’s vulnerability, Africa currently accounts for just 2 percent of global research output and only 1.3 percent of worldwide research spending. In June 2024, Gavi launched the African Vaccine Manufacturing Accelerator (AVMA) , pledging up to USD 1.2 billion over ten years to support the sustainable growth of Africa’s vaccine manufacturing capacity. Around the same time, Afreximbank announced a USD 2 billion commitment through the Africa Health Security Investment Plan to scale health products manufacturing across the continent. Meanwhile, the second phase of the Saving Lives and Livelihoods (SLL) initiative, backed by a USD 638 million investment from Africa CDC and the Mastercard Foundation , is set to run from August 2024 to December 2025 . Written by Adesewa Olofinko

Seven African countries are among the ten lowest-ranked nations worldwide in terms of gender parity Originally published on Global Voices The cover art for the World Economic Forum's Global Gender Gap Report 2025. Image from WEF at Wikipedia . License CC BY-SA 3.0 The World Economic Forum (WEF) has released its Global Gender Gap Report 2025, and seven African countries are among the ten lowest-ranked nations worldwide in terms of gender parity. In this latest edition , Pakistan sits at the very bottom — 148th out of 148 economies covered, with a gender parity score of 56.7 percent. Just above it are Sudan (57.0 percent, 147th), Chad (57.1 percent, 146th), and Iran (58.3 percent, 145th). Other African countries in the bottom 10 include Guinea (59.5 percent, 144th), the Democratic Republic of the Congo (60.1 percent, 143rd), Niger (61.3 percent, 142nd), Algeria (61.4 percent, 141st), and Mali (61.7 percent, 140th). The Global Gender Gap Index The Global Gender Gap Index annually benchmarks the current state and evolution of gender parity across four key dimensions : economic participation and opportunity, educational attainment, health and survival, and political empowerment. These four indicators offer a data-driven lens on the structural inequalities women face globally. In terms of gender gap rankings, Sub-Saharan Africa ranks sixth globally (of eight surveyed regions), with a gender parity score of 68.0 percent. Namibia leads the continent, achieving 81.1 percent gender parity and placing eighth globally. On the other hand, Sudan remains one of the worst performers, with a score of 57.0 percent and one of the world’s lowest levels of female political representation and labor force participation. In economic participation and opportunity, Sub-Saharan Africa comes fifth , with a regional average of 67.5 percent — a 4.8 percentage-point improvement since 2006. However, disparities persist. Chad records the lowest global score in this subindex at 44.4 percent, while Botswana tops the world at 87.3 percent. Liberia (86.5 percent), Eswatini (85.6 percent), Zambia , and Nigeria (76.2 percent) also rank among the top 25 globally in this economic category, at 2nd, 3rd, and 24th, respectively, while South Africa places 98th. Conversely, Sudan (31.3 percent) and Egypt (40.6 percent) are among the bottom five globally, with extremely low earned-income ratios and minimal representation of women in leadership roles. Sub-Saharan Africa ranks eighth in educational attainment with a score of 85.6 percent, up 5.2 percentage points since 2006. This improvement, according to the report, is largely driven by improved enrolment parity at all levels of education. In line with other regions, women surpass men in tertiary enrolment rates. Botswana, Lesotho , and Namibia are among the 41 countries globally that have reached full parity in educational attainment. In the health and survival subindex, Cape Verde , Eswatini, Lesotho, Mauritius , Namibia, and Uganda are among the 17 countries that share the top global position with a parity score of 98 percent. While Liberia (95.5 percent) and Algeria (95.4 percent) fall within the bottom 10 globally on this metric. On political empowerment, Sub-Saharan Africa ranks fifth globally, scoring 22.2 percent. Ethiopia leads the continent in this subindex, placing 12th worldwide with 48.9 percent . By contrast, Nigeria (3.6 percent), Eswatini (3.6 percent), and Sudan (3.0 percent) ranked among the lowest globally, occupying the 143rd, 144th, and 146th positions, respectively. Notably, Rwanda remains the only African economy to have achieved full parliamentary gender parity, with women holding 50 percent or more of legislative seats . South Africa and Ethiopia have also reached gender parity in their ministerial cabinets. Across the continent, women now occupy 40.2 percent of ministerial positions and 37.7 percent of parliamentary seats. Spotlight on the DRC Even though many African countries face gender challenges, the situation in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), ranked 143rd with a score of 60.1 percent on the Global Gender Gap Index, deserves particular attention. Despite being blessed with vast natural resources and being home to the world's second-largest rainforest , the DRC remains one of the five poorest nations in the world, according to the World Bank Group (WBG). It also ranks 175th out of 182 countries on the Human Development Index. According to a UN policy brief , inequalities permeate different areas of society in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), with very few women having access to decent jobs, and girls are less likely to have access to education than boys. “In the DRC, women are underrepresented in parliament, local governments, political parties, and leadership roles across nearly every sector,” says Byobe Malenga , a multimedia journalist and media entrepreneur based in Kinshasa, in an interview with Global Voices. He notes that women remain largely marginalised in decision-making spheres due to social norms and structural inequalities. Some of the biggest barriers to political inclusion include lack of funding, sexism, political violence, and limited access to education. “In the country's provinces, there is only one woman at the head of government, as governor, despite the country being headed by a woman as prime minister,” Byobe adds. “And it’s the same story in many other spaces where decisions are made.” Though articles 5, 14, and 15 of the DRC constitution establish a legal basis for equality and equity policies, women currently occupy only 7.2 percent of positions at the highest level of decision-making at the national level in the parliament and government. Climate shocks are also deepening the divide. Women, who make up around 73 percent of the country’s agricultural workforce, are hit hardest by floods and droughts that wipe out crops and income. “Women are not always entirely ignored in such situations,” Byobe says, “but they are often relegated to secondary or symbolic roles, without real decision-making power.” According to the World Bank Group (WBG), 16.8 percent of Congolese women complete secondary school, half the rate of men. “We must empower one another,” Byobe says. “That way, we strengthen our communities,” but without urgent interventions, the country’s gender ranking will continue to mask the everyday hardships the country is facing. Most significant trends According to the report , Benin recorded the most significant improvement on the continent, gaining 4.6 percentage points and climbing 21 places to reach the 113th position. Zambia also made notable progress, jumping 13 places to 79th. However, not all trends were positive. Togo and Sierra Leone declined by 5.3 and 3.1 percentage points, placing 121st and 112th, respectively. Mozambique dropped 26 places to 53rd. Nigeria, meanwhile, climbed one step to rank 124th, even as Kenya fell 23 places to 98th. Compared to 2024, the global gender gap has narrowed slightly , from 68.4 percent to 68.8 percent in 2025. Among the 145 economies tracked consistently across both years, the modest progress is primarily driven by improvements in Political Empowerment (up 0.7 percentage points to 23.2 percent) and Economic Participation and Opportunity, which increased by 0.4 percentage points (from 60.3 percent to 60.7 percent). At the global level, Iceland (92.6 percent) continues to lead the Global Gender Gap Index, holding the top position for 16 consecutive years , and remains the only economy to have closed more than 90 percent of its gender gap since 2022. The 2025 Global Gender Gap Index highlights that no economy has yet achieved full gender parity, and at the current pace, it will take 123 years to reach it globally . Written by Adesewa Olofinko