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Zainab Salbi: Escape from tyranny Zainab Salbi: Escape from tyranny
(6 months later)
Zainab Salbi was 23 when she first read about rape camps in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia. A newly married student living in the US, she could not forget what she had learned. So, instead of a honeymoon, Salbi and her second husband travelled to Bosnia, a country she had never visited before.Zainab Salbi was 23 when she first read about rape camps in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia. A newly married student living in the US, she could not forget what she had learned. So, instead of a honeymoon, Salbi and her second husband travelled to Bosnia, a country she had never visited before.
Twenty years later, she laughs at the memory: "There were all these big women's groups, and I felt like an ant." But she set about creating a network of "sister sponsors" – women from Bangladesh to Canada signed up, and the organisation became the blueprint for Salbi's charity Women for Women International. Today the charity works with socially excluded women in eight countries affected by war and conflict. It has helped more than 351,000 women.Twenty years later, she laughs at the memory: "There were all these big women's groups, and I felt like an ant." But she set about creating a network of "sister sponsors" – women from Bangladesh to Canada signed up, and the organisation became the blueprint for Salbi's charity Women for Women International. Today the charity works with socially excluded women in eight countries affected by war and conflict. It has helped more than 351,000 women.
Half of the charity's money comes from foundations and the rest comes from the network of sponsors. Each month, every sponsor sends £22 to a "sister" in a conflict zone, enabling them to enrol in a year-long programme teaching job skills and legal rights – and become leaders in their communities. Crucially, the women are also connected by letters and emails. "The letters can be very humbling," Salbi says when we meet in a London cafe before her talk at the Women of the World festival, at the Southbank centre. "I remember one from a woman from Rwanda who thanked me for what she called my 'sacrifice'. With the money, she had sent her kids to school. It wasn't a sacrifice for me, but it was changing her life. It made me more grateful for what I have."Half of the charity's money comes from foundations and the rest comes from the network of sponsors. Each month, every sponsor sends £22 to a "sister" in a conflict zone, enabling them to enrol in a year-long programme teaching job skills and legal rights – and become leaders in their communities. Crucially, the women are also connected by letters and emails. "The letters can be very humbling," Salbi says when we meet in a London cafe before her talk at the Women of the World festival, at the Southbank centre. "I remember one from a woman from Rwanda who thanked me for what she called my 'sacrifice'. With the money, she had sent her kids to school. It wasn't a sacrifice for me, but it was changing her life. It made me more grateful for what I have."
In 2012, Salbi was named Barclays Woman of the Year for her work. She has also been nominated by Bill Clinton as a "21st century heroine", and profiled as a Faith Heroine by the Tony Blair Faith Foundation. Yet last year Salbi stepped down from running the charity, though she remains a board member. The impetus was the Arab spring.In 2012, Salbi was named Barclays Woman of the Year for her work. She has also been nominated by Bill Clinton as a "21st century heroine", and profiled as a Faith Heroine by the Tony Blair Faith Foundation. Yet last year Salbi stepped down from running the charity, though she remains a board member. The impetus was the Arab spring.
An Iraqi by birth, Salbi said she found the events too exciting to ignore, and wanted to help women in the region. "It was magnificent. I realised that I wanted to go back home, to my part of the world and serve there.An Iraqi by birth, Salbi said she found the events too exciting to ignore, and wanted to help women in the region. "It was magnificent. I realised that I wanted to go back home, to my part of the world and serve there.
"The Middle East is one of the most critical parts of the world in terms of negotiating the role of women," she says. "Women have become the battlefield, between two views of religion: those who see it as a relationship between the individual and God, and those who see it as a way of life.""The Middle East is one of the most critical parts of the world in terms of negotiating the role of women," she says. "Women have become the battlefield, between two views of religion: those who see it as a relationship between the individual and God, and those who see it as a way of life."
Now she plans to spend half her time in the region, bringing the voices of young Muslim women into mainstream debate. She is co-producing a documentary about the role of women in the revolutions, and writing a book about women in the region. Next year will see the launch of the digital version of an Arabic multimedia platform for women, called Nidaa, and she will launch a charitable foundation to train young women in the Middle East to be citizen journalists, create blogs, arrange summits and run campaigns.Now she plans to spend half her time in the region, bringing the voices of young Muslim women into mainstream debate. She is co-producing a documentary about the role of women in the revolutions, and writing a book about women in the region. Next year will see the launch of the digital version of an Arabic multimedia platform for women, called Nidaa, and she will launch a charitable foundation to train young women in the Middle East to be citizen journalists, create blogs, arrange summits and run campaigns.
It is also a step away from grassroots activism to advocating for opening up power structures to women. "Worldwide, less than 3% of decision-makers in the media are women," she points out. "They make up only 18% of politicians," and women still represent a tiny minority at the top level of business. "We have to own these areas."It is also a step away from grassroots activism to advocating for opening up power structures to women. "Worldwide, less than 3% of decision-makers in the media are women," she points out. "They make up only 18% of politicians," and women still represent a tiny minority at the top level of business. "We have to own these areas."
She admits the decision to step down from her charity was hard. "I don't have a child, so Women for Women is like my child. But I always said I would step down after 20 years. I didn't want to be a 60-year-old woman holding on to something I created when I was 23."She admits the decision to step down from her charity was hard. "I don't have a child, so Women for Women is like my child. But I always said I would step down after 20 years. I didn't want to be a 60-year-old woman holding on to something I created when I was 23."
As part of her farewell, she has just released a new book, If You Knew Me You Would Care. It contains portraits and interviews with female survivors of war. Some are heartbreaking – a Congolese woman speaks of being repeatedly gang-raped, an Afghan woman of being married to a warlord as a teenager. Yet Salbi is quick to point out that the women also talk of love, hope, rebellion and even weight loss. "We have to look at women survivors of war in all their complexity."As part of her farewell, she has just released a new book, If You Knew Me You Would Care. It contains portraits and interviews with female survivors of war. Some are heartbreaking – a Congolese woman speaks of being repeatedly gang-raped, an Afghan woman of being married to a warlord as a teenager. Yet Salbi is quick to point out that the women also talk of love, hope, rebellion and even weight loss. "We have to look at women survivors of war in all their complexity."
"When I asked what peace meant to them, one told me: 'Peace is in my heart, no one can take it away, and no one can give it to me.' This woman, who escaped from three months of rape, and lives in a shack in the Congo, has found that peace. I call her my Dalai Lama. So, don't look at her like a victim – you have to see her for who she is.""When I asked what peace meant to them, one told me: 'Peace is in my heart, no one can take it away, and no one can give it to me.' This woman, who escaped from three months of rape, and lives in a shack in the Congo, has found that peace. I call her my Dalai Lama. So, don't look at her like a victim – you have to see her for who she is."
Salbi usually starts the interviews by telling women about her own life. And it is an extraordinary one. Her parents were young, educated professionals when they found themselves entangled in an unwanted friendship with Iraq's then vice-president, Saddam Hussein. By the time he became president, they were too terrified of reprisals to extricate themselves from the relationship, even as he boasted to them about the murders he had committed.Salbi usually starts the interviews by telling women about her own life. And it is an extraordinary one. Her parents were young, educated professionals when they found themselves entangled in an unwanted friendship with Iraq's then vice-president, Saddam Hussein. By the time he became president, they were too terrified of reprisals to extricate themselves from the relationship, even as he boasted to them about the murders he had committed.
Salbi's father took a job flying Hussein's personal plane and Zainab called the dictator Amo (uncle), spending most weekends in his company. "Always, always you would smile," she wrote in her memoir. "I called it my 'plastic smile' … I had to stretch those muscles so as to beam."Salbi's father took a job flying Hussein's personal plane and Zainab called the dictator Amo (uncle), spending most weekends in his company. "Always, always you would smile," she wrote in her memoir. "I called it my 'plastic smile' … I had to stretch those muscles so as to beam."
When she was 20 her mother persuaded her to leave the country for an arranged a marriage to an Iraqi-American. But rather than offering an escape route, her husband raped her. She fled to a friend's home, just as the first Gulf war broke out, leaving her stranded in the US. Only years later did she feel able to confront her mother about why she had pushed for the match. The reply was shocking: noticing Saddam's growing infatuation with her daughter, she became convinced he would rape her – something she knew had happened to her friends. Later, Salbi came to believe that her mother had suffered the same fate.When she was 20 her mother persuaded her to leave the country for an arranged a marriage to an Iraqi-American. But rather than offering an escape route, her husband raped her. She fled to a friend's home, just as the first Gulf war broke out, leaving her stranded in the US. Only years later did she feel able to confront her mother about why she had pushed for the match. The reply was shocking: noticing Saddam's growing infatuation with her daughter, she became convinced he would rape her – something she knew had happened to her friends. Later, Salbi came to believe that her mother had suffered the same fate.
Terrified for so long, she was surprised by the reaction to her 2005 memoir, Between Two Worlds: Escape from Tyranny – Growing Up in the Shadow of Saddam. "Iraqis even stopped my father on the street to say 'good for her'. It taught me how we build and maintain fear. It wasn't the removal of Saddam I needed to wait for – I could free myself."Terrified for so long, she was surprised by the reaction to her 2005 memoir, Between Two Worlds: Escape from Tyranny – Growing Up in the Shadow of Saddam. "Iraqis even stopped my father on the street to say 'good for her'. It taught me how we build and maintain fear. It wasn't the removal of Saddam I needed to wait for – I could free myself."
She now urges women to speak out. "The more silent we are, the more we are part of the vicious cycle that hurts women. A Congolese woman taught me that. She spoke to me about her rape. And when I asked her, should I keep it a secret? She said: 'If I could tell the whole world my story I would, so other women didn't have to go through what I went through. But I can't. So go ahead and tell the world – just don't tell my neighbours.' A year later she told the whole world, and her neighbours on the Oprah Winfrey show. And her neighbours greeted her as a leader because she spoke up." Asked if, in some countries, such advice would not endanger women, Salbi is emphatic. "These women are not silent – but often only one or two speak up. We cannot leave the focus and pressure on them. We must join them and eventually we become a movement."She now urges women to speak out. "The more silent we are, the more we are part of the vicious cycle that hurts women. A Congolese woman taught me that. She spoke to me about her rape. And when I asked her, should I keep it a secret? She said: 'If I could tell the whole world my story I would, so other women didn't have to go through what I went through. But I can't. So go ahead and tell the world – just don't tell my neighbours.' A year later she told the whole world, and her neighbours on the Oprah Winfrey show. And her neighbours greeted her as a leader because she spoke up." Asked if, in some countries, such advice would not endanger women, Salbi is emphatic. "These women are not silent – but often only one or two speak up. We cannot leave the focus and pressure on them. We must join them and eventually we become a movement."
Despite a second divorce, Salbi has found her own peace. "In my 20s I was such a serious, boring-looking person. I would never do my nails," she laughs. "I never even danced. But I was taught by the women. They had gone through hell, but they would dance and sing. I came to realise I can't argue for a happy world if I am not happy myself."Despite a second divorce, Salbi has found her own peace. "In my 20s I was such a serious, boring-looking person. I would never do my nails," she laughs. "I never even danced. But I was taught by the women. They had gone through hell, but they would dance and sing. I came to realise I can't argue for a happy world if I am not happy myself."
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