A mission program we developed at Glide was a relationship
with a school and clinic in one of the largest slums of Nairobi, Kenya. We
returned to Kenya every 18 months, bringing new and returning mission team
members as our commitment to our friends and their work deepened. We spent much
of our time listening to our Kenyan friends share stories about their lives. We
were always moved by their resilience and joy in the face of stark poverty and
disease.
One story has haunted us every since it was shared. One of
the women told us of the sexual violence women faced in the slum. Nighttime rain
brought with it fear, because under the cover of rain and darkness, assaults increased.
The heavy downpours created a cacophony of clatter as the rain pelted the tin
roofs of their homes. This din masked the noise of men using machetes to cut
through the corrugated tin walls and muffled the screams of women as they were
raped.
The first time it rained while we were there, no one in our
team slept. All we could do is think of this story, our dear friends, and the
violence they faced.
It is raining in the United States. Who is hearing the
screams of women?
Who hears the screams
of Native American women?
Across the United States and Canada, Native American women
and girls experience a violence at a higher proportion to the general
population. There is an epidemic of missing and murdered Native women and girls
(MMIWG), yet most go unfound, their cases unsolved. In 2016, there were 5712
reports of MMIWG yet only 116 cases were logged in the Department of Justice data
base. The true number of women and girls missing and murdered is unknown. The
forces of colonialism, sexism, and racism all conspire to prevent accurate
reporting and response. The reality is these are mothers, daughters, aunts,
nieces, friends. These are family members whose loved ones live with dreaded,
heartbreaking questions.
Who hears the screams
of trans women of color?
Trans women of color experience unemployment, homelessness,
violence and homicide at alarming rates. Again, the intersections of oppression
(racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia) push these women to the margins where
they are left vulnerable to exploitation and violence. While alive, society
scorned them. In death, scorn and dehumanization often continue to happen, as
they are misgendered when brought to a morgue. Identities disregarded. Humanity
ignored.
Who hears the screams
of migrant women?
Women who flee violence from Central American countries find
that violence often follows them. Many women are sexually assaulted as they journey
to sanctuary in the US. Some are kidnapped and sold to sex traffickers. Once at
the border, their children are often ripped from their arms and sent to separate
ICE facilities.
Who hears the screams
of women who experience abuse in their own homes?
The fact is that many homes look more like battlefields, and
women and children are often the most impacted. Some studies show that up to
30% of women experience violence in the home. Three women a day in the US are
murdered by intimate partners. Many instances of domestic violence go
unreported, as women fear to report because of the threat of more violence,
homelessness, or death.
Who hears the screams
of women as our reproductive rights are stripped away?
In recent weeks, there has been an unprecedented attack on
women’s reproductive freedom. Several state bills were passed that highly
restricted—if not totally denied—access to abortion. Georgia passed a bill
outlawing abortion after 6 weeks of conception—before most women even know they
are pregnant—and Alabama even removed exceptions due to rape or incest from an
anti-abortion bill. There is a steady and focused attempt to overturn Roe v.
Wade which provided women the right to safe and legal abortion at a time when
abortion is at an all time low. Currently,
statistics show that 1 in 4 women have had an abortion. As a pastor, I know
women who have struggled with the decision to have an abortion. They did not
make the decision lightly but after much discernment and prayer. Making abortion
illegal won’t end abortion, for there will still be situations which women will
find it impossible to carry a fetus to term. What will happen is that women
will turn to unsafe methods and places to have their abortions, and that poor
women’s health will be especially impacted.
It is raining hard in Nairobi, on reservation lands, on
treks to freedom. It is raining in homes across this country. It is raining
hard in Georgia, Alabama, Ohio…women are crying out in pain, in mournful
laments, in screams of suffering.
Who will hear?