Ignorance and fear face women with disabilities in Palestine
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of women live hidden in their homes on the West Bank. The patriarchal social system, which in strength alone separates Sweden from Palestine, uses shame, ignorance and fear as a weapon for denying disabled women their fundamental human rights. Shatha Abu Srour, who is active in Stars of Hope, is fighting for change; for herself and others.
"I do not accept being restricted! I have my own life, my own values and opinions, which seldom concur with that demanded by society. I sometimes feel that I don't even come from here."
During my visit to the West Bank I found it difficult to find women to interview. But Shatha was the exception to the rule. After I sent a fax to one of the organisations she is involved with it was her who called me back - several times. The soft cautious voice that came across as an insecure young woman proved to be a person with a great self-confidence and sense of humour, and distinct opinions.
"I've chosen to represent women with disabilities, towards whom I feel a great responsibility. All women, all people in fact, are entitled to a life of equal opportunity and participation. I'm full of energy and resolve to change the static attitudes that permeate Palestinian society."
When Shatha was ten she put her parents against the wall and demanded an explanation. Why was she the only sibling who always ran into things when they played and why did all the family use pens when they wrote accept her? Nobody, not even the people at the boarding school that Shatha lived at since she was two years old, had told her she was blind. She had to work that out for herself. Shatha is critical to disabled people being separated from the rest of society and put into institutions. She says that it creates traumas and difficulties adapting to normal society. But at the same time it has given her an opportunity that none of her five sisters have had.
"My disability and experiences gained from it have helped me form a personality that I adore. This is why I see it as a gift, an added value in my life."
In a country where women's freedom of movement is restricted by traditional gender patterns and the occupation, Shatha is freer than most. She sees this as a form of compensation from her parents.
"I may have well taken advantage of it when I was a teenager, she laughs. "But it's also because they love me and understand the kind of person that I am."
She travels daily in her work from south to north through checkpoints and across country borders. She is just 23 years of age but works fulltime in a country where 75 per cent of women without disabilities are unemployed. Stars of Hope, one of the Kvinna till Kvinna Foundation's partner organisations, is made up of young women with disabilities, both staff and target group. Shatha works with outreach and is in charge of activities on the West Bank.
Stars of Hope is the only organisation of its kind and was formed due to the lack of interest from other organisations in the special needs of women. During the year that Shatha has worked there she has seen just how alarming the needs are and the difference that Stars of Hope makes. At the moment they are striving to influence political decision-making.
"This is an Arab society we are talking about; cultural, social, financial and political discrimination. The gulf between women's and men's rights is enormous. Add disability and you're not second or third class citizens, but third!"
Courses and group discussions empower the women through offering them the possibility to share experiences and feelings that they always thought they were alone in having.
"At one meeting the tears just flowed. One women revealed how her parents had stopped her from attending school, another how people insulted her on the street, another how her mother had forbidden her from going to a her sister's wedding because it shamed the family. Sometimes we also talk about relationships and sexuality, something that disabled women do not even dare to contemplate."
Shatha invited me to stay a few days in Stars of Hope's apartment in Ramallah, where five of the young women employed there live in a collective. The loud music, untidy kitchen and fits of laughter are not unlike that of a Swedish student corridor. The difference being that here, feminist texts and English books go hand in hand with artificial legs and prayer rugs. The young women in the collective have radical opinions compared to society outside. But Shatha is without doubt the most rebellious and provocative of all.
"I don't care what people think. I'm lucky enough not to see those who look down on me!"
During my stay I often wondered how Shatha had become the person she is. In an extremely male dominated society where women are neither seen nor heard, she takes up the oratory and people listen. Despite growing up in a religious family she refuses to wear a veil. Where disability is shameful and ugly she turns it into an advantage. In a country where occupation prevents physical freedom of movement and restricts the free exchange of thoughts and values, she crosses the borders that others put up for somebody like her.
"I love my life. I didn't love it before. I have three dreams: To complete a doctorate in Neurological Programming, become a key figure in the struggle for disabled women... and then I'd like a house by the sea."
Elfrida Bergman, Cultural Analyst, Umeå, Sweden