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Human Rights Defender of the Month: Kadar Abdi Ibrahim

Kadar Abdi Ibrahim est un fervent militant des droits humains et journaliste djiboutien – un pays où les journalistes sont fréquemment harcelés, soumis à des intimidations et représailles orchestrées par le gouvernement et empêchés de conduire leurs activités de façon indépendante. Pourtant, Kadar continue à utiliser sa voix et sa plume comme outils pour promouvoir la justice.

En tant que militant des droits humains, journaliste et blogueur, il est une cible à Djibouti. « Je suis témoin, quotidiennement, de l’injustice et des souffrances que subissent mes compatriotes. En tant qu’humain, impossible de rester les bras croisés », explique-t-il.

En 2015, Kadar était le co-directeur et rédacteur en chef du journal L’Aurore, le seul organe de presse privé de Djibouti. En 2016, le journal a été interdit de publication suite à la parution d’un article sur l’une des victimes du massacre de Buldhuqo, au cours duquel au moins 29 personnes ont été tuées. « Je suis animé par le désir de voir mon pays adopter une culture démocratique et surtout faire sortir mes concitoyens de l’ignorance », ajoute-t-il. Il occupe par ailleurs le poste de Secrétaire-général du parti politique MoDeL (Mouvement pour la démocratie et la liberté).

Pour tenter de le faire taire, la police a arrêté Kadar à plusieurs reprises, ce qui témoigne des dangers liés à la défense des droits à Djibouti. Souvent, le gouvernement refuse de légaliser les organisations des DDH à moins qu’ils ne prêtent allégeance aux autorités. Les DDH font en outre face à des actes de harcèlement judiciaire et extrajudiciaire, à des attaques, à des campagnes de dénigrement et à la confiscation de leurs documents d’identité.

Pendant 20 années, Kadar a été professeur de lycée, puis enseignant-chercheur à l’Université de Djibouti, mais il a perdu son poste en raison de son engagement en faveur des droits humains. Il a aussi été radié de la fonction publique.

En avril 2018, quelques jours après son retour de Genève, où il a mené des activités de plaidoyer en amont de l’Examen périodique universel (EPU) de Djibouti au Conseil des droits de l’homme de l’ONU, des agents du Service de documentation et de sécurité (SDS), les services de renseignement djiboutiens, ont fait une descente à son domicile et confisqué son passeport. En dépit du fait que sa situation est clairement identifiée comme un cas de représailles par le Secrétaire-général adjoint des Nations Unies, qui a fait rapport sur la question au Conseil des droits de l’homme en 2018 et 2019, son passeport reste aux mains du SDS. Il est donc dans l’impossibilité de quitter son propre pays depuis deux ans.

Il reste convaincu du fait que les institutions onusiennes et les acteurs internationaux devraient exercer davantage de pression sur le gouvernement djiboutien et pousser en faveur de la justice et des droits humains, notamment en ce qui concerne la mise en œuvre des recommandations EPU – qui est l’un des seuls moyens de faire la lumière, au niveau international, sur la situation des droits humains à Djibouti.

« Il est de mon devoir de dénoncer l’injustice pour apporter de l’espoir à tous ceux qui en sont victimes. Je ne dois pas me contenter uniquement de la dénonciation, mais aussi agir pour montrer qu’une autre voie est possible avec nos maigres moyens en ressources humaines et matériels », conclut Kadar.

Kadar Abdi Ibrahim is an outspoken human rights activist and journalist from Djibouti – a country where journalists are frequently harassed, subjected to government-orchestrated intimidation and reprisals, and prevented from pursuing their work independently. Yet, Kadar continues to use his voice and pen as tools to promote justice.

As a human rights activist, journalist, and blogger, he is a target in Djibouti. “Every day, I witness the injustice and suffering inflicted upon my fellow compatriots. As a human being, I cannot stand idly by,” Kadar explains.

Every day, I witness the injustice and suffering inflicted upon my fellow compatriots. As a human being, I cannot stand idly by.

From 2015, Kadar was the co-director and chief editor of L’Aurore, Djibouti’s only privately-owned media outlet. In 2016, the newspaper was banned following the publication of a story on one of the victims of the Buldhuqo massacre – which killed at least 29 people. “I sincerely wish to see my country adopt a democratic culture and overcome ignorance,” he says. He also serves as Secretary-General for the political party Movement for Democracy and Freedom (MoDeL).

As a living testimony of the dangers linked to defending human rights in Djibouti, the police have arrested Kadar several times in an attempt to silence him. Often, the government refuse to legalise HRDs’ associations, unless they pledge allegiance to the authorities. In addition, they frequently face judicial and extrajudicial harassment and attacks, smear campaigns, and confiscation of identity documents.

For 20 years, Kadar was a high school teacher, then a Professor and Researcher at the University of Djibouti, but lost his position due to his human rights work.  He was later dismissed from civil service. 

In April 2018, just days after returning from Geneva, where Kadar carried out advocacy activities ahead of Djibouti’s Universal Periodic Review (UPR) at the UN Human Rights Council, agents of the Service de documentation et de sécurité (SDS, the intelligence service) raided his house and confiscated his passport. Despite his case being identified as a clear case of reprisals by the UN Assistant-Secretary-General, who reported on it to the Human Rights Council in 2018 and 2019, his passport remains with the SDS. He has been unable to leave his own country for the past two years.

He believes that UN institutions and international actors should put more pressure on the Djiboutian government, and call for justice and human rights, including the implementation of the UPR recommendations – which is one of the only ways of shining a light on Djibouti’s human rights situation at the international level.

It is my duty to denounce this injustice and bring hope to the victims. But I cannot content myself with speaking out against the situation; I also have to show that another path is possible, despite our limited human resources and financial means.

“It is my duty to denounce this injustice and bring hope to the victims. But I cannot content myself with speaking out against the situation; I also have to show that another path is possible, despite our limited human resources and financial means,” Kadar highlights.

See more HRDs of the Month

Human Rights Defender of the month: Leon Ntakiyiruta

As a child, Leon wanted to be a magistrate – whom he saw as agents of justice. Born in 1983 in Burundi’s Southern province, he came of age at a time of great social and political upheaval in the East African country. In 1993 when Leon was barely 10, Burundi was besieged by a civil war that would last for the next 12 years until 2005, characterized by indiscriminate violence and gross human rights abuses in which over 300,000 people are estimated to have died.In 2012, still struggling to find her footing in Kampala, Aida was introduced to DefendDefenders, where she was introduced to the organisation’s resource center, and assured, it (the center) would be at her disposal whenever she needed to use it.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Aida Musa

In August 2011, Aida crossed into Uganda, pregnant, and barely able to communicate in another language other than Arabic. The transition was a difficult one, she says: “It was my first-time outside Sudan, and yet I did not know any other language. The first months were very difficult.”
In 2012, still struggling to find her footing in Kampala, Aida was introduced to DefendDefenders, where she was introduced to the organisation’s resource center, and assured, it (the center) would be at her disposal whenever she needed to use it.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Pamela Angwench Judith

For most of her life, Pamela Angwech’s existence has always been a defiant and simultaneous act of survival and resistance. In 1976 when she was born, the anti-Amin movement was gathering pace, and her family was one of the earliest victims of the then dictatorship’s reprisals in Northern Uganda. Her father, a passionate educationist in Kitgum district was one of the most vocal critics of the dictatorship’s human rights excesses, which made him an obvious target of the state’s marauding vigilantes.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Joseph Oleshangay

As a human rights lawyer and advocate with the High Court of the United Republic of Tanzania, Joseph Moses Oleshangay spends most of his time crossing from one court to another, litigating human rights cases, some with life-altering implications for ordinary people. It is a monumental responsibility, one he never envisaged growing up.

As a young boy born into a Maasai household in northern Tanzania, his entire childhood revolved around cattle: “Our entire livelihood revolved around cattle. As a child, the main preoccupation was to tend to cows, and my formative years were spent grazing cattle around Endulen. It a simple lifestyle,” he says.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Julia Onyoti

The situation of South Sudan’s women and girls remains one of those enduring blights on the country’s conscience. The country retains the unenviable reputation of having the world’s highest maternal mortality rate, and at 51.5%, one of the highest cases of child marriages. It is even worse with gender-based violence(GBV): A 2019 study by UNICEF found that one in every two South Sudan women have experienced intimate partner violence, while a recent UN study, alarmed at the widespread nature of conflict-related sexual violence in the country, in which women are tread as “spoils of war” described it as “a hellish existence for women and girls.

Human Rights Defender of the month:SHIMA BHARE

Shima Bhare Abdalla has never known the luxury and comfort of a stable and safe existence inside her country’s borders. When she was 11, her village was attacked and razed to the ground, sending her family and entire neighborhood scattering into an internally displaced People’s Camp, at the start of the Darfur civil war.

That was in 2002. Shima and her family relocated into Kalma refugee camp in Southern Darfur, where, alongside over 100,000 other displaced persons, they had to forge out a living, under the watch and benevolence of the United Nations – African Union Hybrid Operation in Darfur, known as UNAMID. It is here that Shima’s human rights consciousness came to life. She enthusiastically embraced whatever little education she could access under the auspices of the humanitarian agencies operating in the camp, to be able to tell the story of her people’s plight.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Martial Pa’nucci

Martial Pa’nucci is a child of what is fondly known as Africa’s second liberation. In 1990 when he was born, the Republic of Congo, like many other countries in Sub-Saharan Africa, was undergoing a transition from one-party rule to multi-party democracy, following the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Yet developments in ordinary people’s lives were not as optimistic. Pa’nucci was born in one of Brazzaville’s ghettos to a polygamous family of two mothers and 19 siblings, where survival was a daily exercise in courage. When he was two, his father died, followed in quick succession by many of his siblings. Pa’nucci did not start school until he was nine, and he had to do odd jobs – from barbering to plumbing to earn his stay there, lest he dropped out like many of his peers.

Human Rights Defender of the month: Veronica Almedom

Veronica Almedom is a poster child of successful immigration. A duo Eritrean and Swiss citizen, she was born in Italy, and grew up in Switzerland where she permanently resides. Her parents are some of the earliest victims of Eritrea’s cycles of violence. When Eritrea’s war of independence peaked in the early 1980s, they escaped the country as unaccompanied minors, wandering through Sudan, Saudi Arabia, before making the hazard journey across the Mediterranean into Europe. There, they crossed first to Italy, and finally, to Switzerland, where they settled first as refugees, and later, as permanent residents.

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