Women and girls in the barrios live in constant fear of sexual attack and a violent death.
The windowless room in downtown San Pedro Sula, Honduras’s second city, bustles with activity as more than a dozen women take their seats at a long oak table. Water bottles are distributed and the electric fan switched to full blast to alleviate the oppressive summer heat creeping through the half-open door.
As the chatter dies out, Dicsa Bulnes clears her throat, introduces herself and begins to speak.
“As a woman I feel trapped. I am a prisoner in my own home, there’s nowhere for me to go. I have no freedom.”
Bulnes, who is from the marginalised Afro-Caribbean Garífuna community, pauses for a moment to take a sip of water before she continues.
“My partner nearly killed me. He still sends me threatening messages on my mobile attacking me. I’ve tried reporting him but the authorities won’t do anything. It feels like they are forcing women to buy their own coffins, to return to the attacker and suffer through the violence.”
[…]
