The Article below was published in Vol. 136, Issue 1 of the Lake Forest College Stentor on September 18, 2020.

Hayley Headley ’24 

Guest Contributor 

Editor’s note: This article was originally published on the Whorticulturalist blog and is reprinted with the author’s permission. To view the next article in the series, visit: https://www.thewhorticulturalist.com/read/elmachismo 


While millions of women in North America and Europe celebrated their women’s day with marches and fun social media posts, Mexico was learning what it meant to live without them. From Tijuana to Chetumal, the streets, subways, and offices of cities and towns all over the country were operating without women.  

#UnDiaSinMujeres was a countrywide sit-in. Abandoned by their government, and the international community these women have been left to defend themselves against a country of men that seem hellbent on their extermination. This day was meant to awaken the police, prosecutors, and politicians to the future of their nation. It was meant to help these powerful men (and women) realise the gravity of the situation at hand.

To understand that a war has been brewing in our voluntary negligence. 

El feminicidio or femicide has been a growing issue across Latin America, and the past few years have seen these rates skyrocket. In 2018, UN Women put out a report saying every day 12 women die from femicide in Latin America and just a year later, in 2019, the numbers topped out at about 10 women per day in Mexico alone. The numbers are staggering, and everyone is looking for a place to pin the blame; a single point source to this corrosive societal pollutant.

All eyes are on Ciudad Juarez and they have been since the early 1990s. Amnesty International has been sounding out about the dire circumstances in Juarez since 2005. They revealed then that over 370 young women and girls had been murdered without justice or cause since 1993. 

In a study of Ciudad Juarez, done as an analysis of a decades-long history from 1993 to 2007, researchers identified that these offenses are primarily either intimate or systemic sexual femicide. Intimate refers to femicide that is perpetrated by someone close to the victim, while systemic sexual has its roots in patterns of violence against women and children like kidnapping and sexual assault. These two accounted for about 62 percent of all femicides in the city for that time. The pattern has since continued, with the bulk of women dying at the hands of violent men who knew them or men who simply saw them as yet another target. The only significant change is the sheer number of women who have fallen victim to these felonies.

While this city is best known for its reputation as the murder capital of the world or its features in shows like Narcos or El Chapo, it has an unspoken history of violence against women. It expands far beyond murder; it’s the hundreds of women that have gone missing since the 1990s, it’s the thousands of women who experience sexual violence every year, it’s the gross mistreatment of women and girls at home and in the streets. 

Moreover, the situation is about more than just Juarez. It is easy to push the blame around, to try and localise the situation to one city or one state. But the reality is that femicide is on the rise all over Mexico, that 1.4 of 100,000 women die each year from these heinous acts, that Mexico doesn’t even chart in the top five worldwide for these crimes. And it is the globalised nature of these issues that prompts us to ask the question—why? Why is any of this happening? Why is the situation in Mexico the way it is at all? Why does it continue and how did it start?

Some point toward the cartels and gangs that see women as cannon fodder for their wars. Others to a culture of machismo that has stoked the flames of the male egos in the region for decades. And a few try to point to simple circumstances, that there are thousands of people who die every year in Mexico, of course, some women will be caught in the crossfire. But the fact is undeniable that women and girls are being deliberately targeted by the vile men who seek them out, violate their bodies, and leave them there to be found the next day. 

It is the impunity with which these murderers act that sickens me. It is the very fact that there is a system of people who fail every day to give these women the justice they deserve. After dying in such a graphic and brutal manner, the least the powers that be might offer is the meager gift of a sentence passed—a sliver of dignity.

There is something eerily commonplace about these crimes. That is a part of their cultural danger. It is easy to get desensitized by these numbers and forget what they truly mean for the lives of millions of women and girls. It is easy to forget that day after day women turn on the news to hear of yet another young woman—one no different from themselves, no different from their sisters or daughters or mother— being slaughtered. But it is even easier to keep searching for an answer with no intent on finding one.

The women of this country know exactly why this is happening. They know how you can fix it, but they also know you refuse to listen. These women have been left to their own devices, to seek justice for themselves. Surely they are victims of a system and a society that sees them as nothing better than warm bodies or lambs to the slaughter, but they have refused to trap themselves in their victimhood. 

The mothers of the women who have died as a result of femicide have empowered themselves. In early 2020 one of them took it upon herself to confront her country and the murderers who reside there with a poignant question :

“Cual es tu p*****e problema?” 

“What is your f****ing problem?” Editor’s note: word altered 

In a speech that went viral, she spoke with a fury that I sincerely hope shakes the nation. She spoke from her heart, and she spoke for everyone in the same situation. She knows there is nowhere to turn in her fight for justice other than the public. Saying: 

“Yo no soy una colectiva, ni necesito un tambor, ni necesito de un p*****e partido político que me represente”

“I am not a collective, and I don’t need a drum, or a f***ing political party to represent me” Editor’s note: word altered 

She can represent herself. This organic, grassroots activism has been the largest, strongest and most public opposition that has been displayed amid this crisis. Movements like Ni Una Mas and #UnDiaSinMujeres have been central in these women’s fight to be represented and heard. But no matter how many protestors pour into the streets, or mothers share their stories, or women stay home, it is impossible to ignore that they first took to their stand in the ’90s.

It has been 30 years since this became a national and regional talking point, 18 years since Mexican women first spoke up and said that not one more girl or young woman should share this fate, and yet thousands more bodies have been buried— victims of this savage and unprovoked violence. 

The Mexican government only officially began to monitor femicide in 2012. Nonetheless in these eight years it has offered little in the way of making practical amends. They have made special prosecutor offices and extended sentences, but femicide is still on the rise. After years of willful ignorance, feminists all over the country rejoiced in hope that their newest leftist president would turn the tide. But two years into his administration, next to nothing has been done. Activists and women all over the country are at a loss for what to do. 

The world has told them over and over again that they are each other’s only allies, in this fight for the basic right to life. And it is the basic right to exist that is reaffirmed in every human rights agreement, every constitution, and law, that is being affronted in this subtle warfare. 

This conflict has taken thousands of lives and scarred tens of thousands more. It is ushering a new era of female fear. 

For me, it is more terrifying to think that it will not be bringing with it a new era of women’s rights. Protests and riots have been reignited since the start of 2020, and while things have slowed due to the pandemic, these women are no less desperate and no less ready to fight. What happens over the coming months and years will forever reshape the geopolitical landscape in which we, as women, all continue to live. It will forever change how and if women get to exist.

All over the continent rights are eroding and they are being repackaged and resold to us as privileges. It isn’t a privilege to narrowly escape death. There is no surplus in simply awaking each day. What wealth is found in existence under constant threat? These women are being offered their next breath as a gift from the state. The very same state that fails to uphold these most basic rights day in and day out.

Even so, these women have continued to persevere. Unashamed and unconstrained they stand up for themselves even if there is no one standing with them. There is something unique about Latin America’s revolutionary spirit. There is something special about the ability of these women to unify in their fear and anger. That spark, the fervour and zest with which they seek out a better life for themselves and their children, is invaluable. 

Not much is certain for the future of femicide or feminism in the region, but one thing I am certain won’t be abandoned is this burning desire for change. It is impossible to know how many more protests will be held, or how many more days there will be where women disappear from the streets, or if sustainable change will come at all. 

It is scary to think of what happens if this continues, or what it means to live in a world that doesn’t care if it does. El feminicidio is about more than just Mexican women, more than Latinx women, it is about the fate of womanhood everywhere. These women are fighting for a system that upholds more than just their rights, they are fighting for women’s rights everywhere.

How can you support them in this fight and get involved?

Check out and support local and regional activist organisations like:

  • Nuestras Hijas de Regreso a Casa
  • Ni Una Mas
  • Ni Una Menos

Donate to organisations that support women’s rights and the women fighting for them:

  • Mamacash
  • UN Women
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