Zara’s poem moves through the swagger, danger, and bruised glamour of urban Pakistan to show that being both woman and legend can make you a spectacle, a liability, and a survivor all at once. Zara’s poem moves through the swagger, danger, and bruised glamour of urban Pakistan to show that being both woman and legend can make you a spectacle, a liability, and a survivor all at once. Untitled (2025), digital illustration, courtesy of Mahnoor Azeem. Artist · BOOKS & ARTS REPORTAGE · LOCATION To be Woman and Hip in Dunya LOCATION AUTHOR . AUTHOR . AUTHOR . 24 Oct 2025 th . Letter from our columnist . I learned how to be hip from girls who sat at dhabas – It was 2018; I was nothing and no one, And shudh desi leftism was still a dream the kids had. I waded through the decay of urban Pakistan - The waterless boat basin - In my white platform boots. I was not the only girl who figured out life so. This is the manifesto of hip woman Who ate the apple, and risked jihad Baadalon se giri, bijli ki tarhan Bazaar-e-aam main — afwah uthi Ye kesi mystical saazish hai! Issey dewaar main chunwa diya jaye Jahanpana! Shehenshah: My only weapon is my poetry. When your soldiers visit the marketplace Encroachment notice and batons in hand I see them at the gate, While in the midst of my dance — I am not a dancer so I entertain children. Meanwhile, jesters, poets, and ustads Grace the King’s colony! For my own safety, I am not invited. Hip woman is: She’s got the law cowered Her gait relaxed, magnificent night suit chic Fists up, she raises a new independence slogan: Yeh jo dehshatgardi hai, Isske peeche wardi hai. How everything is metaphor! Last Friday, when I dressed up as girl I bruised myself to win a race Now, it hurts to be teased and caressed Waisay masoom banti hun magar pata hai mujhey — Hot boys are dangerous to me This is not the first time I have hurt myself so. To be woman and hip: Is to be okay not being woman at all, To be unafraid of androgyny Allow yourself all the ugly of humanity I am maila like my city. Meri shalwar key paainchon per Meri mitti ka daagh hai: The beggar’s pleading, My daddy’s corruption Let the truth slap the princess out of me For to not be woman and hip Is to be dream deferred, girl interrupted. Aik naya pollution metric propose karti hun: Khwabon ki kirchian kitnay gigaton carbon emit karti hain? When they make a liar out of a girl, I want you to kill me as tribute. SUB-HEAD Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. 1 Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Poetry Lahore Karachi Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 On That Note:

Towards the end of FLUX, a key organizer with Muslims For Just Futures, Muslims for Abolitionist Futures, among others, performed a DJ set with Bhangra and urban music beats, featuring Major Lazer, Meesha Shafi & more, bringing a wide-ranging event about many intellectual and material shifts to an end. INTERACTIVE FLUX · A Celebratory Set by DJ Kiran Towards the end of FLUX, a key organizer with Muslims For Just Futures, Muslims for Abolitionist Futures, among others, performed a DJ set with Bhangra and urban music beats, featuring Major Lazer, Meesha Shafi & more, bringing a wide-ranging event about many intellectual and material shifts to an end. Darakshan Raja FLUX: An Evening in Dissent An uplifting set by DJ Kiran to dance to at the end of a weighty virtual event. Jaishri Abichandani's Art Studio Tour Kshama Sawant & Nikil Saval: A panel on US left electoralism, COVID-19, recent victories, & lasting problems. Natasha Noorani's Live Performance of "Choro" Bhavik Lathia & Jaya Sundaresh: A panel on the US Left & its relationship with media in the wake of Bernie Sanders' loss. Tarfia Faizullah: Poetry Reading Rajiv Mohabir: Poetry Reading SAAG, So Far: A Panel with the Editors FLUX: An Evening in Dissent An uplifting set by DJ Kiran to dance to at the end of a weighty virtual event. Jaishri Abichandani's Art Studio Tour Kshama Sawant & Nikil Saval: A panel on US left electoralism, COVID-19, recent victories, & lasting problems. Natasha Noorani's Live Performance of "Choro" Bhavik Lathia & Jaya Sundaresh: A panel on the US Left & its relationship with media in the wake of Bernie Sanders' loss. Tarfia Faizullah: Poetry Reading Rajiv Mohabir: Poetry Reading SAAG, So Far: A Panel with the Editors SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Watch the event in full on IGTV. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Event Global Virtual Live FLUX Bhangra Music DJ Urban Desi Music Muslims For Just Futures North American Diaspora Muslim Abolitionist Futures Anti-Racism Islamophobia Major Lazer Meesha Shafi The Halluci Nation Boogey the Beat Northern Voice Jay Hun Sultaan Kisaan Bands Experimental Electronica Experimental Music DARAKSHAN RAJA A.K.A. DJ KIRAN is an abolitionist activist, musician, and DJ who works to cultivate joy and community in movement work with Bhangra and Urban Desi Music. DJ Kiran was part of The Empowerment Album , a collaboration between desi women DJs from the US, UK, and Canada. Darakshan is the co-founder and co-director of Muslims for Just Futures , a grassroots organization that focuses on working-class communities, women, and communities nationally through the Muslim Abolitionist Futures (MAF) National Network. 5 Dec 2020 Event Global 5th Dec 2020 A Set by Discostan Arshia Fatima Haq · Prithi Khalique 5th Jun FLUX · Natasha Noorani Unplugged: "Choro" Natasha Noorani 5th Dec FLUX · A Panel on SAAG, So Far Shreyas R Krishnan · Kartika Budhwar · Nur Nasreen Ibrahim · Aishwarya Kumar 5th Dec FLUX · Tarfia Faizullah: Poetry Reading Tarfia Faizullah 5th Dec FLUX · Poetry Reading by Rajiv Mohabir with Marginalia Rajiv Mohabir 5th Dec On That Note:

TRANSLATOR, MUSICIAN Ria Modak RIA MODAK is a musician, translator, and PhD student at Brown University studying music, nationalism, and borders in modern South Asia. TRANSLATOR, MUSICIAN WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

MUSICIAN RYDEY RAYYAN MOHAMED , known locally as Rydey, is a Maldivian music producer and lyricist, especially active in the hip-hop music scene. He joined Symbolic Records in 2016 as a music composer and became the company's senior producer and the Head of Audio Production. His lyrics pertain to social issues, mental health, and abstract contexts. Symbolic Records is the first hip-hop music label in the Maldives. MUSICIAN WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

ARTIST Mon M MON M is an organizer, writer, and illustrator from Bangalore, India currently organizing around surveillance, ending jail expansion, and prisoner support programs in Lenapehoking/New York City. Her work focuses on undoing the reformist creep of progressive criminal justice institutions and policies, as well as on abolitionist feminist strategies for ending the carceral state, and anti-caste solidarity within the South Asian diaspora, as a Savarna individual. She is a co-author of 8 to Abolition , as well as a founding co-organizer of the National No New Jails Network , and Free Them All for Public Health . ARTIST WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

A live performance for the launch of SAAG's Volume 2, also celebrating the release of Rajna Swaminathan's new record “Apertures” at the Soapbox Gallery in Brooklyn. Swaminathan (mrudangam/vocals) performed as part of the Vagabonds trio with Ganavya (vocals) and Utsav Lal (piano). COMMUNITY “Apertures” with the Vagabonds Trio AUTHOR AUTHOR AUTHOR A live performance for the launch of SAAG's Volume 2, also celebrating the release of Rajna Swaminathan's new record “Apertures” at the Soapbox Gallery in Brooklyn. Swaminathan (mrudangam/vocals) performed as part of the Vagabonds trio with Ganavya (vocals) and Utsav Lal (piano). SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Tags Tags Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. DISPATCH Tags Tags 23rd Oct 2010 On May 12th, 2023, SAAG hosted a launch event for Vol. 2 at the Soapbox Gallery in Brooklyn, for which we were delighted to present the experimental and deeply moving musical compositions of the Vagabonds Trio: Rajna Swaminathan (mrudangam/voice), Ganavya (voice), and Utsav Lal (piano) who we had the pleasure of collaborating with a second time after his opening performance for In Grief, In Solidarity . They were joined partway by Miles Okazaki (guitar). To showcase musicians with such incredible musical range, a commitment to radicalism and social justice as expressed in the lyricism and melodies, and a deep rigor and discipline with their craft, was a true honor. We hope you enjoy the recording of the live event and the improvisational way it shifted from the respective discographies of each member of the trio, shifting seamlessly from several languages, including Tamil, English, Urdu, and more. Most of all, the performance celebrates the release of Rajna Swaminathan's new album Apertures (Ropeadope, Apr 28th), available to buy or stream now . Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Next Up:

"In Ayodhya’s sacked Mogul masjid / vultures scrawl Ram on new temple bricks. / Brother, from this mandir of burning" FICTION & POETRY Six Poems AUTHOR "In Ayodhya’s sacked Mogul masjid / vultures scrawl Ram on new temple bricks. / Brother, from this mandir of burning" Ghee Persad I. You know straight away it’s ghee and not oil but you can’t eat it without gambling for the price of home-feelings, you may soon lose a toe, then a foot, then your leg. Call it faith—like drinking Ganga water? Call it an offering, like this sweet, that stood at the bronze feet of the ten- weaponed, tiger-riding Devi. You’ve recounted the tale of how she slew the demon-headed asura who made a compact with the gods so strong they trembled in heaven, how sugar is also divine and terrible. II. First hot the karahi with ghee and paache de flouah till ‘e brown-brown den add de sugah and slow slow pour de milk zat ‘e na must get lumpy. Like you mek fe you sista fust picknki ke nine-day, how you tuhn and tuhn ‘am in de pot hard-hard you han’ been pain you fe days, but now you see how ovah-jai you sistah face been deh. You live fe dis kine sweetness. You eat one lil lil piece an’ know dis a de real t’ing. Like when a-you been small an’ you home been bright wid bhajans play steady, how de paper bag wha’ been get de persad became clear from de ghee you been hable fe see you own face. III. You pass though ever kind watah, there is always new life to celebrate. Seawall At Morning Georgetown, Guyana 2019 What starts at night startles the dawn: rain water replenishes the trench lotus stalks and petals stand tall Seawall signs painted Namasté in acrylic Beyond, the sea silts brown as mud as a frigate soars wings of stone. And beyond: a ship with sails from 1838 I look twice— an oil rig? Another form of bondage? Pandemic Love Poem One by one the yellow jackets leave their nest, a hole covered with decaying leaves that warm the ground and an inert queen they’ve fed all autumn. What sleeps inside will one day burst into a wind of wings. What will wake a sleeping queen? Beneath my waist growing larger, the sting of nights one by one, when I am stranger and stranger to you. We sleep in a converted porch, wooden siding, the wall that insulates what’s inside it which is not you, nor is it me. The bedclothes stiffen with cold. Remember me? One by one peel the yellow sheets from our nest. Prick me with your heat from sleep. Place a cardamom pod under my tongue. Come, dissolve with me. Sita ke Jhumar स्टाब्ब्रुक के बाजार में अंगूठिया गिरी गयल रे। स्टाब्ब्रुक के बाजार में अंगूठिया गिरी गयल रे। हमसे खिसियाई बाकी हमार गलतिया नाहीं । सास करइला चोखा खावे, ससुर दारू पिये। ससुराल में परदेसिया रोटी थपथपे अउर दाल चउंके। आमवा लाये भेजल हमके जीरा लाये भेजल हमके। बाकरा ठगल हमके संगे जाने ना माँगे है। गिनिप लाये भेजल हमके जमुन लाये भेजल हमके। ससुराल में परदेसिया, मासाला पीसे अउर बड़ा तले। ओरहन पेटाइहे हमार माइ के, बाबा से खिसीयाइहे। साँइया खिसियाई हमसे गलतिया नाहीं हमार रामा। स्टाब्ब्रुक के बाजार में अंगूठिया गिरी गयल रे • stabroek ke bajar mein anguthi giri gayal re stabroek ke bajar mein anguthiya giri gayal re hamse khisiyayi baki hamar galtiya nahi saas karaila choka khawe sasur daru piye sasural mein pardesiya roti thapthape aur daal chaunke aamwa laye bhejal hamke jira laye bhejal hamke backra thagal hamke sange jane na mange hai guinip laye bhejal hamke hamun laye bhejal hamke sasural mein pardesiya, masala pise aur barah tale orahan petaihai hamar mai ke baba se khisiyai hai saiya khisiyaiyi hamse galtiya nahin hamar rama stabroek ke bajar mein anguthiya giri gayal re • Me ring fall from me finga a Stabroek. Me husban’ go vex. He mudda’ wan’ eat karaila chokha, he faddah suck rum steady. Me na nut’in’ to dem. Me does clap a-roti an’ chounke de daal. Me husban’ send me a market fe buy mangro an’ fe get jeera. Backra been tek me ‘way wid dem come, me na been wan’ fe come ‘way. Me husban’ send me mus’ buy guinip an’ jamun. Me na no one fe he mai-baap. Me does pise de masala me does fry de barah. ‘E go sen’ complaint to me mumma an’ vex wid me faddah. Me husban’ go vex wid me but nut’in’ me na do. Me ring fall from me han’ a Stabroek. • My ring slipped from my finger, in Stabroek market. My love will be angry for what was his fault. His mother’s eaten karaila chokha his father’s sucked rum. I’m a stranger in their home, clapping roti, spicing daal. My love sent me to buy mangoes, he sent me to buy jeera. Backra kidnapped me; I didn’t want to go. My love sent me to buy guinips, to buy jamun. I’m a stranger in their home, grinding spices, frying barah. He will complain to my mother, gripe to my father. My love, it’s not my fault. My ring fell off in Stabroek market. IN SHIPS [HONORING MAHADAI DAS’ “THEY CAME IN SHIPS”] West— They came dancing and despondent hungry gaunt alone do not forget the field or your blood I lost the yokes of rage in chains. Janam Bhumi In November of 2019 the Indian courts allowed the Modi administration to construct a Ram temple at the site of the demolished 16th-century Babri Masjid built by the Mogul ruler Babur. On August 5, 2020 they broke ground for the new mandir. Jai Sri Ram, now god of murder. What is real, Rushi, the forest is now deforest, home its own undoing? Trench lotuses hard as dicks release truth, even the skinks and hawks shrink back into scarcity. What of shanti—? In Ayodhya’s sacked Mogul masjid, vultures scrawl Ram on new temple bricks. Brother, from this mandir of burning, each sunrise mantra shoots itself a poisoned arrow. Each snake prays. The unlit path sparkles maya. ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Artwork by Kareen Adam for SAAG. Monoprinted, digitally-animated collage, ink on paper (2020). SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Tags Tags Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Tags Tags 23rd Oct 2010 Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. On That Note: Heading 5 23rd OCT Heading 5 23rd Oct Heading 5 23rd Oct

Beatrice Wangui's quest to challenge Kenya’s punitive seed laws tells a larger story about the nature of indigenous knowledge and preservation, as well as that of agrarian labour, situated in a longer history of the public and private approaches to agriculture that are promulgated under the guise of modernization. THE VERTICAL Beatrice Wangui's Fight for Seed Sovereignty in Kenya Beatrice Wangui's quest to challenge Kenya’s punitive seed laws tells a larger story about the nature of indigenous knowledge and preservation, as well as that of agrarian labour, situated in a longer history of the public and private approaches to agriculture that are promulgated under the guise of modernization. Pierra Nyaruai Farming has always been a bonding point between my father and me. When I ventured into agriculture, I only understood food systems from the point of small-scale farming. As a way of learning, my father would often bring some seeds and cuttings when he went somewhere new. This was one of the ways we introduced new foods to our small farm and onto our plates. In 2012, the Kenyan government enacted a law that made seed saving and exchange illegal, thereby posing a threat to an indigenous system of seed exchange that has persisted for eons. When I arrived at Beatrice Wangui’s house she was showing farmers how to build a vertical garden. Her home is an oasis in the dry Gilgil area and a large group of farmers, local and from other countries, stood around her as she showed them how to make a blend of manure, charcoal dust, and soil to grow vegetables in. This is a regular activity on her small but well-sectioned agricultural island. One side of her farm is a thriving bunch of vertical gardens teeming with leafy greens. Corners on the ground spot herbs like mint and rosemary. There is a short spread of beds hosting at least six varieties of managu (black nightshade ) , terere (Amaranth ) , mitoo (slenderleaf) and saget (spider plant). Now 59 years old, Beatrice has been an organic farmer for many years as well as champion of seed sovereignty. Indigenous communities in Kenya have had to work around the systemic effects and hurdles in the way of corporate capture of seeds, promulgated in the form of millions of US dollars by international seed companies to monopolize the seed sectors in Africa. I wanted to dive into the world of seed saving to see how people responded to or worked around the law that criminalized these traditions. Beatrice training a group of visitors on creating vertical gardens. Photo courtesy of the author. Seed sovereignty upholds the farmer’s right to save, use, exchange, and sell his or her own seeds. Seed regulation in Kenya began in 1972, ten years after the country gained independence. The Seed and Plant Varieties Act of 1972 entered into force in 1975, was promulgated in 1991, and later amended in 1994. While Kenya joined the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 1995, the country had already enacted its own unique (sui generis) law on Plant Breeders' Rights (PBRs). However, this PBR law did not take effect until 1999 after Kenya ratified the 1978 Act of the International Union for the Protection of New Varieties of Plants (UPOV). In 2012, Kenya updated its PBR law through the Seeds and Plant Varieties (Amendment) Act . Then, in 2015, the country furthered its commitment to UPOV by ratifying the 1991 UPOV Convention, which outlines stronger protections for new plant varieties. Today, seed saving is an essential part of Kenyan livelihoods, especially in rural parts of the country. In Kenya, 70 percent of the rural population is dependent on agriculture. As a child, I remember when my parents would return from visiting new places with some form of seed propagation. They could be suckers for a new vegetable, vines, or a handful of seeds – all a means to grow the crops that caught my parents’ interest. This was how I came to know and love a vegetable called rhubarb. In many rural homes across Kenya, kitchens are not only a space to prepare food. Hanging on walls, under the traditional fire racks near the fireplace are seeds tied up in leaves along with calabashes. The warmth from the fire dries them out and the smoke makes them nearly pest-proof. Smoking is one of the most traditional modes of seed saving. In many communities, other methods such as diatomite, cow dung, soot, and ash are used. This is a tradition for most, if not all the communities in Kenya. Slenderleaf pods at Beatrice’s farm. Photo courtesy of the author. Punitive Seed Laws The Seed and Plant Varieties Act of 2012 criminalizes farmers from “selling, sharing and exchanging” unregistered or uncertified seeds. Farmers who break the law risk a prison sentence of up to two years or a fine of up to a million Kenyan shillings. Beatrice says she refused to keep silent in the face of laws that promote corporate greed over the lives and livelihoods of communities across the country. She joined other farmers and civil society organizations as a petitioner in a case against the law prohibiting seed saving. The alliance of farmers and activists has courageously spoken up against the laws, arguing for the rights of small-scale farmers to save, exchange, and use their seeds freely. Their persistence and hard work has inspired farmers across Kenya to join their cause. They hold seed exchange fairs to fight for the right to cultivate indigenously obtained and retained seeds. Apart from them, fifteen other small land-holding farmers have filed a petition to the court to amend the law. Speaking to Beatrice feels like a plunge in a well of seed preservation knowledge. On a tour of her seed-saving facility, she pointed out the strategic use of all the materials she had on hand. She explained how each element played a role in ensuring the survival of seeds for up to years in glass bottles. Even though her village has no piped water, the facility carries stacks of jerry cans filled with water. The water helps keep the temperature low which reduces heat damage. The room is also low and near the ground. Beatrice at her community seed bank. Courtesy of Gregory Onyango As custodian of the community seed bank, Beatrice is tasked with ensuring that the seeds are in tip-top shape by the time farmers come to collect them. “Farmers bring in their seeds after drying them,” she says. “And they must wait at least a season before they come to get seeds. A farmer cannot take all the seeds at the same time. There was a year we had two failed rainy seasons and only the last batch of the seeds made it.” It begins with inspecting the seeds for moisture content. If the seeds do not pass this test, the farmer is required to take them back and reduce the moisture content to the required level. The next step is to check out the seed's germination percentage. "This is done by picking about 10 seeds, placing them in a bowl, and covering them with a wet tissue. In about 5 days, we observe how many out of the ten have germinated," Beatrice explains. If three or fewer seeds germinate, it means the germination percentage is low and the seeds are not of good quality and cannot be stored. Depending on the quantity of seeds, some are stored in airtight glass bottles while others are stored in buckets. A film of ash from special trees and bushes is spread over the seeds to keep both moisture and pests off. With help from organizations such as The Seed Savers Network , Beatrice has been able to increase her knowledge and capacity for seed saving. The Seed Savers Network was registered in 2009 and to date, has helped establish more than 52 community seed banks, including one that Beatrice looks after. The Seed Savers Network, she says, taught them seed characterization which is a process they follow from when they plant a seed to when they harvest it. Beatrice Wangui in her garden. Courtesy of Gregory Onyango Beatrice is keen on passing on this knowledge to her children and grandchildren. Her granddaughter who is named after her and attends a local secondary school, is very hands-on with the project. She has grown up around her grandmother and has learned how to tell different varieties apart and how to preserve each of them. “When she is around and I have visitors, she teaches them just as well as I can. She understands how to handle seeds and crops alike,” she shares. For Beatrice and others like her, awareness of such methods and passing on their teaching is an integral part of the process without which indigenous knowledge would disappear. With help from organizations such as The Seed Savers Network, Beatrice can meet other seed savers from across Kenya and the world. As she shows me around, explaining varieties of maize, beans, tomatoes, and vegetables she hopes the indigenous knowledge, varieties, and preservation are not stifled by punitive seed laws. As she fights for indigenous seeds through the law and by practicing traditional methods, she hopes her cross-generational efforts pay off and the indigenous crop varieties stand the test. Beatrice is one of many people and organizations working to maintain the s tate of seed sovereignty . Despite the immense challenges posed by the corporate consolidation of the seed industry, the movement for seed sovereignty continues to gain momentum around the world. From seed libraries and seed swaps to on-the-ground breeding projects, countless individuals and communities are taking steps to reclaim their ancestral seed heritage and maintain biodiversity. By resisting the privatization of this vital common resource, seed savers stand as stewards of food security and biodiversity for present and future generations. Though the battle is an uphill one, the remarkable resilience and creative cross-pollination within the seed sovereignty movement offer a path toward a more regenerative, equitable, and sustainable food system. ∎ Farming has always been a bonding point between my father and me. When I ventured into agriculture, I only understood food systems from the point of small-scale farming. As a way of learning, my father would often bring some seeds and cuttings when he went somewhere new. This was one of the ways we introduced new foods to our small farm and onto our plates. In 2012, the Kenyan government enacted a law that made seed saving and exchange illegal, thereby posing a threat to an indigenous system of seed exchange that has persisted for eons. When I arrived at Beatrice Wangui’s house she was showing farmers how to build a vertical garden. Her home is an oasis in the dry Gilgil area and a large group of farmers, local and from other countries, stood around her as she showed them how to make a blend of manure, charcoal dust, and soil to grow vegetables in. This is a regular activity on her small but well-sectioned agricultural island. One side of her farm is a thriving bunch of vertical gardens teeming with leafy greens. Corners on the ground spot herbs like mint and rosemary. There is a short spread of beds hosting at least six varieties of managu (black nightshade ) , terere (Amaranth ) , mitoo (slenderleaf) and saget (spider plant). Now 59 years old, Beatrice has been an organic farmer for many years as well as champion of seed sovereignty. Indigenous communities in Kenya have had to work around the systemic effects and hurdles in the way of corporate capture of seeds, promulgated in the form of millions of US dollars by international seed companies to monopolize the seed sectors in Africa. I wanted to dive into the world of seed saving to see how people responded to or worked around the law that criminalized these traditions. Beatrice training a group of visitors on creating vertical gardens. Photo courtesy of the author. Seed sovereignty upholds the farmer’s right to save, use, exchange, and sell his or her own seeds. Seed regulation in Kenya began in 1972, ten years after the country gained independence. The Seed and Plant Varieties Act of 1972 entered into force in 1975, was promulgated in 1991, and later amended in 1994. While Kenya joined the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 1995, the country had already enacted its own unique (sui generis) law on Plant Breeders' Rights (PBRs). However, this PBR law did not take effect until 1999 after Kenya ratified the 1978 Act of the International Union for the Protection of New Varieties of Plants (UPOV). In 2012, Kenya updated its PBR law through the Seeds and Plant Varieties (Amendment) Act . Then, in 2015, the country furthered its commitment to UPOV by ratifying the 1991 UPOV Convention, which outlines stronger protections for new plant varieties. Today, seed saving is an essential part of Kenyan livelihoods, especially in rural parts of the country. In Kenya, 70 percent of the rural population is dependent on agriculture. As a child, I remember when my parents would return from visiting new places with some form of seed propagation. They could be suckers for a new vegetable, vines, or a handful of seeds – all a means to grow the crops that caught my parents’ interest. This was how I came to know and love a vegetable called rhubarb. In many rural homes across Kenya, kitchens are not only a space to prepare food. Hanging on walls, under the traditional fire racks near the fireplace are seeds tied up in leaves along with calabashes. The warmth from the fire dries them out and the smoke makes them nearly pest-proof. Smoking is one of the most traditional modes of seed saving. In many communities, other methods such as diatomite, cow dung, soot, and ash are used. This is a tradition for most, if not all the communities in Kenya. Slenderleaf pods at Beatrice’s farm. Photo courtesy of the author. Punitive Seed Laws The Seed and Plant Varieties Act of 2012 criminalizes farmers from “selling, sharing and exchanging” unregistered or uncertified seeds. Farmers who break the law risk a prison sentence of up to two years or a fine of up to a million Kenyan shillings. Beatrice says she refused to keep silent in the face of laws that promote corporate greed over the lives and livelihoods of communities across the country. She joined other farmers and civil society organizations as a petitioner in a case against the law prohibiting seed saving. The alliance of farmers and activists has courageously spoken up against the laws, arguing for the rights of small-scale farmers to save, exchange, and use their seeds freely. Their persistence and hard work has inspired farmers across Kenya to join their cause. They hold seed exchange fairs to fight for the right to cultivate indigenously obtained and retained seeds. Apart from them, fifteen other small land-holding farmers have filed a petition to the court to amend the law. Speaking to Beatrice feels like a plunge in a well of seed preservation knowledge. On a tour of her seed-saving facility, she pointed out the strategic use of all the materials she had on hand. She explained how each element played a role in ensuring the survival of seeds for up to years in glass bottles. Even though her village has no piped water, the facility carries stacks of jerry cans filled with water. The water helps keep the temperature low which reduces heat damage. The room is also low and near the ground. Beatrice at her community seed bank. Courtesy of Gregory Onyango As custodian of the community seed bank, Beatrice is tasked with ensuring that the seeds are in tip-top shape by the time farmers come to collect them. “Farmers bring in their seeds after drying them,” she says. “And they must wait at least a season before they come to get seeds. A farmer cannot take all the seeds at the same time. There was a year we had two failed rainy seasons and only the last batch of the seeds made it.” It begins with inspecting the seeds for moisture content. If the seeds do not pass this test, the farmer is required to take them back and reduce the moisture content to the required level. The next step is to check out the seed's germination percentage. "This is done by picking about 10 seeds, placing them in a bowl, and covering them with a wet tissue. In about 5 days, we observe how many out of the ten have germinated," Beatrice explains. If three or fewer seeds germinate, it means the germination percentage is low and the seeds are not of good quality and cannot be stored. Depending on the quantity of seeds, some are stored in airtight glass bottles while others are stored in buckets. A film of ash from special trees and bushes is spread over the seeds to keep both moisture and pests off. With help from organizations such as The Seed Savers Network , Beatrice has been able to increase her knowledge and capacity for seed saving. The Seed Savers Network was registered in 2009 and to date, has helped establish more than 52 community seed banks, including one that Beatrice looks after. The Seed Savers Network, she says, taught them seed characterization which is a process they follow from when they plant a seed to when they harvest it. Beatrice Wangui in her garden. Courtesy of Gregory Onyango Beatrice is keen on passing on this knowledge to her children and grandchildren. Her granddaughter who is named after her and attends a local secondary school, is very hands-on with the project. She has grown up around her grandmother and has learned how to tell different varieties apart and how to preserve each of them. “When she is around and I have visitors, she teaches them just as well as I can. She understands how to handle seeds and crops alike,” she shares. For Beatrice and others like her, awareness of such methods and passing on their teaching is an integral part of the process without which indigenous knowledge would disappear. With help from organizations such as The Seed Savers Network, Beatrice can meet other seed savers from across Kenya and the world. As she shows me around, explaining varieties of maize, beans, tomatoes, and vegetables she hopes the indigenous knowledge, varieties, and preservation are not stifled by punitive seed laws. As she fights for indigenous seeds through the law and by practicing traditional methods, she hopes her cross-generational efforts pay off and the indigenous crop varieties stand the test. Beatrice is one of many people and organizations working to maintain the s tate of seed sovereignty . Despite the immense challenges posed by the corporate consolidation of the seed industry, the movement for seed sovereignty continues to gain momentum around the world. From seed libraries and seed swaps to on-the-ground breeding projects, countless individuals and communities are taking steps to reclaim their ancestral seed heritage and maintain biodiversity. By resisting the privatization of this vital common resource, seed savers stand as stewards of food security and biodiversity for present and future generations. Though the battle is an uphill one, the remarkable resilience and creative cross-pollination within the seed sovereignty movement offer a path toward a more regenerative, equitable, and sustainable food system. ∎ SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Rise by Ian Njuguna. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Profile Kenya Climate Seed Sovereignty Agriculture Farming Beatrice Wangui Seed Saving Indigeneity Indigenous Seed Exchange Seed and Plant Varieties Act Agrarian Economy Rural Farmers Seed Savers Network Seed Banks Community Building Gilgil Nakuru County Sustainability Food Systems Organic Farming Environment Climate Change Agricultural Labor PIERRA NYARUAI is a Kenyan journalist with a focus on food systems, women empowerment, sustainable development goals and human interest, based in Nakuru, Kenya. Over the past five years, she has been looking for and telling the stories of African women in agriculture, their role in the world’s food systems and the nutritional and economic side of Africa. She has written for The Continent, Mail & Guardian and The Insider-South Sudan . 22 Apr 2024 Profile Kenya 22nd Apr 2024 IAN NJUGUNA is a visual artist born and raised in Nairobi, Kenya, where he currently resides. He works in Illustration, motion design, and graphic design. Njuguna's art style is characterized by a blend of whimsy and photorealism, often weaving together elements of fine art and cartoon styles. His practice is a commitment towards what he calls "African stories." Gardening at the End of the World Ben Jacob 3rd Feb Sinking the Body Politic Dipanjan Sinha 24th Aug Save Karoonjhar Zuhaib Ahmed Pirzada 19th Jul Chats Ep. 7 · Karti Dharti, Gender & India's Farmers Movement Sangeet Toor 29th Apr On the Ethics of Climate Journalism Aruna Chandrasekhar 22nd Aug On That Note:

ADVISORY EDITOR Divya Karthikeyan Divya Karthikeyan is the Capitol Reporter at Kentucky Public Radio , a collaborative of stations including LPM, WEKU, WKYU and WKMS. She is a journalist and host of the podcast Minor Feelings , previously at The New Republic . She is based in Louisville. ADVISORY EDITOR WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

WRITER Torsa Ghosal TORSA GHOSAL is the author of a book of literary criticism, Out of Mind (Ohio State University Press), and an experimental novella, Open Couplets (Yoda Press, India). Her fiction, essays, and interviews have appeared in Berkeley Fiction Review, Catapult, Los Angeles Review of Books, Literary Hub, Bustle , and elsewhere. She is an assistant professor of English at California State University, Sacramento, and a host of the Narrative for Social Justice podcast. WRITER WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

WRITER Saira Mir SAIRA MIR is a physican and author of the award-winning picture book Muslim Girls Rise (2019). This biographic anthology was born out of the need to counter Islamophobia and fill her daughter’s heart with amazing Muslim women like her. Her new book, Always Sisters: A Story of Loss and Love will be published by Simon & Schuster in August 2023, available for preorder at her website. WRITER WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

In the immediate wake of the COVID-19 crisis, disaster and religion became intertwined for many Rohingya refugees in the camps of Cox's Bazaar, allowing spurious claims to sway a vulnerable population. FEATURES COVID-19 and Faith in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh In the immediate wake of the COVID-19 crisis, disaster and religion became intertwined for many Rohingya refugees in the camps of Cox's Bazaar, allowing spurious claims to sway a vulnerable population. Vol. 2 Issue 1 FIRST TAG AUTHOR AUTHOR AUTHOR Photograph courtesy of Abu Yousuf Shazid, depicting Dhaka Ahsania Mission (DAM) hand washing station. ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Photograph courtesy of Abu Yousuf Shazid, depicting Dhaka Ahsania Mission (DAM) hand washing station. SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Tags Tags 23rd Oct 2010 Tags Tags Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. COVID-19 IS directly impacting the most vulnerable section of society in Bangladesh—its Rohingya refugees—a community which narrowly survived genocide in their native Myanmar, now subjected to mass displacement in the region. Combined with the impact of Cyclone Amphan and Cyclone Yaas in 2020 and 2021 respectively, Bangladesh’s constant battle with the climate crisis is well-documented. The mass displacement and persecution, however, continue to impact the largely overlooked refugee population. Approximately 1.2 million Rohingya refugees have been living in the 27 camps in two sub-districts of Cox’s Bazar district since 2017. Late last year, there were state-led actions that alarmed both humanitarian and human rights groups. The Government of Bangladesh, in December 2020, began moving Rohingya refugees from Cox’s Bazar to Bhasan Char, a secluded island without adequate healthcare infrastructure or protection against extreme weather events like severe cyclones and tidal surges. So far, more than 20,000 people have been moved, out of the planned 100,000 refugees to the low-lying silt island. Grappling with the effects of double displacement, initially from their home country and now being forcibly shifted from refugee camp to camp, coupled with the uncertainties about their legal status and insecurity over their future in their host country, the plight of the Rohingyas is a humanitarian crisis that shames humanity. Faith and Health of the Rohingya Refugees In 2020, several months of lockdown measures, put in place by the Government of Bangladesh to protect against COVID-19, led to a severe loss of livelihood for many of the country’s vulnerable and poor. In Cox’s Bazar, women-headed households, persons with disability, and elderly people have resorted to strategies that affect their health and well-being. Women and children are eating less nutritious foods and fewer meals in a day, reducing the quantities they eat. These harmful dietary practices are a result of their socio-economic conditions, especially loss of livelihoods and limited food relief during the COVID-19 crisis. It speaks of people on the brink, left to their own devices, and at the mercy of their faith. The Rohingya people are predominantly Muslim. Their community leaders are usually imams and muezzins leading prayers at mosques. As witnessed the world over, several COVID-19 conspiracies were at play. This emerged as the case with both Rohingya and Bengali communities, who turned to faith in trying and testing circumstances and in the face of uncertainty and scant information. These are usually the circumstances in which people who have lost all hope resort to religion. Rohingya refugees in Cox’s Bazar too believed that COVID-19 was a punishment and a test of their faith. Disease and health, thus, became entwined with spirituality, religion, and other spheres of life, including financial struggle. For this article, we interviewed imams, muezzins, women faith actors, and local NGOs who were instrumental in raising awareness on COVID-19 preventive strategies, surveying 100 households from both the Bangladeshi host populations and Rohingya refugees in Camps 15 and 19 in Cox’s Bazar. At the inception of the pandemic, in the throes of fear and insecurity on the ground, there were numerous conspiracies about the government in Bangladesh, just like anywhere else in the world. During Jummah prayers, religious leaders who initially supported fatalistic notions about COVID-19 virus were encouraging people to wash their hands to maintain cleanliness, and to wear masks. In the face of uncertainty and scant information in the pandemic, both Rohingya and Bengali communities turned to their faith in trying and testing circumstances. In 2020, Dhaka Ahsania Mission (DAM) set up a health outpost in Camp 19, and provided basic health services to the people living in the camps. The health staff assisted people with COVID-19-related measures and treatments. The DAM facility had referred 26 suspected cases—22 Rohingya members and 4 villagers—to the nearest hospital, where two positive cases were found amongst the Bengali villagers. The health outpost provided screenings for COVID-19 symptoms and referred them to the hospitals, while for the non-COVID-19 cases they provided treatments. As per the data provided to us by DAM, over 400 patients were treated, consisting of both Rohingya refugees and host community members. An official from DAM mentioned the following about the caseload: "As per health data, there were 367 positive cases and 10 deaths amongst Rohingyas across 32 camps. Within Camp 19, there were five positive cases in refugees and three hospital staff tested positive. Approximately 5,000 positive cases in the host community." This must be viewed within the larger context of limited facilities for testing within the camps in Cox’s Bazar. A medical doctor noted that only 25,000 had been tested so far out of 1.2 million people as of January 2021. Specifically in Camps 15 and 19, there are no sentinel sites. Inside a Rohingya Refugee Camp (RRC) Masjid. Courtesy of Abu Yousuf Shazid Another NGO, Dushtha Shasthya Kendra (DSK), undertook an initiative for public health messaging, generating awareness and providing timely information and discussions with around 700 Rohingya community members. They employed an interesting approach of using public speakers and microphones in the mosques, as well as door-to-door campaigns for providing information on COVID-19 preventive measures. They provided training to community and faith leaders, dispelling some of the rumours and misinformation that were rampantly spreading in these communities. With the collision of science and faith, there were interesting ways in which Rohingyas resisted and adapted to the new circumstances. From an outsider's perspective, it appeared that faith leaders were fatalistic, which percolated amongst other community members participating in our group discussions. Rohingya men and women were concerned that the elderly were susceptible because they did not remain “clean,” presumably concerning their personal hygiene. Many people shared that initially they had lots of misinformation and misbeliefs, believing COVID-19 was an act of God to punish the non-religious. Depending on who their community leaders were, such views would be either contested or encouraged, especially during prayertime. While there is a strong feeling that the pandemic is religiously ordained, a significant proportion of the people still believe it to be as a response to their sins; or nature's response to man's cruelty, or even due to a lack of belief in Islam. There were strong associations between cleanliness and the disease. Several rumours emerged about what causes COVID-19, just as it was commonly observed in countries in the Global South as well as Global North. Qualitative data indicates people received COVID-19 information through social media, public spaces like tea stalls, religious gatherings, and meetings at mosques. While there is a strong feeling that the pandemic is religiously ordained, a significant proportion of the people still believe it to be a response to their sins; or as nature's response to man's cruelty, or even due to a lack of belief in Islam . It is essential to note that these fatalist attitudes were the result of a combination of misinformation, manipulation, and inappropriate channels of information that the Rohingyas had limited access to. In the absence of large-scale humanitarian support, abandoned by their host and persecuted by their native country, the Rohingyas largely relied on their faith to tide over challenging circumstances. Hearing their stories about the painful and arduous journey from Rakhine state to Bangladesh, it is remarkable that these communities continue to thrive and survive in the face of challenging and dire circumstances. They relied on their community leaders, unelected Rohingya called “majhis,” for information and guidance to not only make this journey to Bangladesh but also manoeuvre the flailing political, administrative, and governance structures in the camps. Religious actors & women leaders With the merging of faith and public health, a key group of actors emerged as powerful and influential in changing beliefs and attitudes about COVID-19. Imams and muezzins played a crucial role in promoting healthcare in the Rohingya community, and several humanitarian NGOs relied on these religious leaders to promote preventive messages on COVID-19. Within the Bangladeshi community, the imam is a leader of the community revered for their exemplary adherence to faith. Imams in the Rohingya community play a similar role, and thus it is widely accepted that an imam’s verdict and messages about COVID-19 are sincere and trustworthy. Majhi, although originally a term used to refer to the leader who helped Rohingya refugees flee from Myanmar to Bangladesh, was also the name of the camp in-charge in Cox’s Bazar. The majhi system was initially established by the Bangladeshi authorities to manage the influx of refugees in 2017, but over the years it became an administrative position elected without participation and representation of the Rohingya communities. In effect, majhi were no longer the traditional leaders or elders of the Rohingya communities, and they neither reflected nor represented the voices, needs, and aspirations of these displaced groups. Several NGOs trained and addressed misconceptions held by the imams and muezzins and enlisted their support in delivering COVID-19 messaging during prayers. Interestingly, some imams married scientific facts with religious edicts. A Rohingya teacher said: "Lots of people live here and it is difficult to manage them. If any message and information are needed to deliver to the people, the leaders act as the main role. For NGOs and other officials, it is not possible to reach all people. The leaders also discuss different issues with the officials." Religious gatherings, especially jummah/Friday sermons called by the imam, appear to be the best source of information for the masses. A woman leader, who actively participated in the DSK NGO’s training programmes, noted that every Friday at the time of prayer, the imam discussed how we could be safe from the coronavirus. However, since women do not usually go to the mosques, those who attended the training from DSK would share what they learnt with other women near their homes. She also shared that since schools were closed due to lockdown measures in 2020, they lost out on a vital and reliable source of information. They had to pay approximately 100 takas ($1) per month for school, hence many could not afford going to school. A COVID-19 DSK awareness poster in a refugee camp. Courtesy of Abu Yousuf Shazid There were other information sources that were reported as the highly trusted and least trusted information sources for COVID-19: radios, television, posters, billboards, social media channels, and websites. People relied on social actors from both health and religious institutions, such as community health workers, majhis, imams, madrassa teachers, traditional healers, and members of the Tablighi Jamaat. Some depended on their friends, neighbours, and community health events for health-related information. Of these, community health workers and faith leaders such as majhis, imams, and madrassa teachers emerged as the top three sources of information as reported. Imams and muezzins were considered as trustworthy by the community members. The majhi system was initially established by the Bangladeshi authorities to manage the influx of refugees in 2017 but over the years it became an administrative position elected without participation and representation of the Rohingya communities. In effect, majhi were no longer the traditional leaders or elders of the Rohingya communities, and they neither reflected nor represented the voices and aspirations of these displaced groups. Rohingya members were skeptical about messages received from posters and radio as these did not explain much of the instructions they had to follow. Many times, these were in languages—English or Bengali—they were not able to read or comprehend easily. The lack of educational and literacy programmes for Rohingya refugees is pivotal to understanding Rohingya communities. Rohingya refugees are not allowed to read and write in the local Bengali language. There are no integration programmes available for refugees in Bangladesh, particularly for the Rohingyas. Although the Rohingya language, Ruáingga, has some affinity to the Chittagonian dialect spoken in Cox’s Bazar, many refugees are unable to read and write in Bengali. The refugee members have poor literacy rates due to systemic persecution and lack educational opportunities in Myanmar, and continued negligence in Bangladesh. The access to and continuation of education for Rohingya girls is very limited. Parental attitudes towards education for girls reportedly shift once girls turn ten years old as societal norms may allow girl children to be married. With limited economic means young girls are not enrolled into education programmes run by NGOs in the camps. Their educational attainment levels are well below average after having fled genocide and war in Myanmar, a symptom of the abject exclusion of the Rohingyas from education in both host and home countries. Male teachers provided a different perspective on how religion was limited in its capacity to counter the global coronavirus pandemic. One of the teachers who was interviewed clarified that there is nothing related to COVID-19 in the Quran or Hadith, although Islam asks everyone to stay clean. He went on to reflect how teachers were “trying” to unlearn misinformation that they gathered through various mediums like social media or others. The madrassa teachers also had a role to play in the COVID-19 response. Firstly, teachers from schools or madrassas are very respected people in Rohingya society, an intellectual privilege that allows them an ease in delivering their messages. Rohingya exclusion from society, education, and other opportunities has fed into cynicism over science and outsiders, and they heavily rely on local actors and leaders whom they trust rather than external social workers. While the teachers are involved in the faith-based committee, they also have access to mobile phones which means they can access updated information. Their involvement in the training and awareness programmes has helped NGOs to build trust with refugee community members. This process has been capitalized to deliver COVID-19 preventive messages to the people, through teachers who have a unique way of perceiving and explaining scientific ideas with religion to counter misinformation amongst the people. Rohingya refugees are not allowed to read and write in the local Bengali language. There are no integration programmes available for refugees in Bangladesh particularly for the Rohingyas. Although the Rohingya language, Ruáingga, has some affinity to the Chittagonian dialect spoken in Cox’s Bazar, many refugees are unable to read and write in Bengali. Despite religious leaders being male figures, there were local women leaders who actively participated in religious activities. Although women leaders have lesser authority than their traditional male counterparts, Rohingya women can reach out to women leaders easily. Imams and muezzins did not interact directly with women and children because their religious responsibilities were largely centred around the mosque. An Arabic teaching room in an RRC Masjid. Courtesy of Abu Yousuf Shazid Since women did not have access to religious and educational spaces, they were more likely to have untested misbeliefs and attitudes towards COVID-19. Some women leaders in the Rohingya communities were included in NGO training and were enlisted for house-to-house visits and providing information on COVID-19 preventive steps. However, their numbers are few—most women leaders continue to believe and share their misinformation about COVID-19. For instance, a 35-year-old female leader (name withheld) explained her understanding about the cause of COVID-19 as being an “order from God,” and that we need to keep ourselves “neat and clean” in order to prevent ourselves from being infected. They have little access to information, with limited to no educational opportunities, and are unable to voice their opinions and apprehensions in relief and awareness programmes. Such misinformation is, of course, not limited to Rohingya or Bangladeshi women. In order to stop the flow, the government, humanitarian actors, and media will have to take steps to rule out every possible rumor with scientific fact. This should be accessible and available in several languages, written and orally presented widely. This reveals the fact that women are less considered for group and organized meetings; they remain as passive receptors of information passed onto them by their husbands. This provides fertile ground for the spread of misinformation and misconceptions, often used to suppress women further in such isolating circumstances. There were physical and social barriers that determined the uptake of COVID-19 preventive messages, such as low literacy levels, cultural and linguistic differences between host and refugee communities, and no access to basic health, educational, and livelihood opportunities. Local faith and community leaders can play a vital role in addressing vaccine hesitancy and cultural biases related to vaccine uptake amongst both Bangladeshi and Rohingya communities. Since women did not have access to religious and educational spaces, they were more likely to have untested misbeliefs and attitudes towards COVID-19. Some women leaders in the Rohingya communities were included in NGO training and were enlisted for house-to-house visits and providing information on COVID-19 preventive steps. However, their numbers are few. Gender experts are also alarmed at the increased rates of domestic violence during the pandemic. There have been numerous cases of intimate partner violence against women isolated with abusive partners. Women’s responsibilities and workload were overburdened as men were barred from going out during lockdown. COVID-19 has had a huge impact on women’s rights and their access to justice. There are strict restrictions imposed on them, which became stricter during the pandemic: limited movement outside the home and adherence to follow instructions. Several rumours reported by Rohingyas were shared by a senior official from DAM NGO during a telephone interview. "Rohingya people were scared. They used to say: 'If we go to the health post, we will be sent to Bishan Char island, or we may go missing. We may even be killed.” The official interpreted these rumours as symbolic of a genuine mistrust between the health system and refugee populations. However, they reflect the harsh realities of the Rohingyas who have no one to turn to and who fear further persecution from authorities, constantly coming across government initiatives that push them further into destitution. The Future of Humanitarianism in Cox’s Bazar No country was prepared to face such a pandemic, and yet, for persecuted communities like the Rohingyas, these uncertainties and health emergencies are symptomatic of a larger phenomenon that isolates, negates, and further reproduces the injustice and unfair conflict that they have faced not only with the government authorities. Misinformation and mistrust is not a unique phenomenon to the Rohingyas but it is important to unpack why people are peddling conspiracy theories instead—lack of information, spread of disinformation campaigns on social media and the Internet, and politicians and society leaders questioning the severity of the pandemic while silencing the needs and voices of Rohingya refugees. On September 29, 2021, Mohibullah, 46, chair of the Arakan Rohingya Society for Peace and Human Rights (ARSPH), was shot and killed by unidentified gunmen in Kutupalong camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. Several human rights and NGO workers have criticized this killing as not only silencing Rohingya voices, but also refusing to have a dialogue with the refugees for their safe future, either in Bangladesh or in a safe return to Myanmar. Many believe that the non-state actor Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA), an armed group present in the camp, is responsible for this violent and gruesome murder. With disarray in camps and limited resources from humanitarian actors, violence has become rampant, resulting in murders and abductions. It is the responsibility of government authorities to ensure the protection of people in the camps, including refugees, activists, and humanitarian workers from both the Rohingya and local community, many of whom have shared concerns about their safety. Any humanitarian effort should build on an understanding of the underlying drivers of conflict, violence, and issues affecting social cohesion within the local Bangladeshi communities in Cox’s Bazar. Social cohesion factors such as a sense of social or group identity, sense of community, and attachment to place can be important adaptation drivers when considering how populations respond to public health and other crises. These factors, together with community-based leadership, including faith-based leadership, can play an important role in the development and increasing social bonds central to Rohingya capacities when confronting COVID-19 and a range of other hazards. Mapping out power relations and structures within and beyond the Rohingya community could help meaningfully engage with the persecuted minority. The battle for citizenship and statehood for Rohingyas is long and dates to colonial history and negligence by Burmese authorities. While these groups await their uncertain future, it is the responsibility and mandate of neighbouring countries like India and Bangladesh to be proactive and participatory in their approaches to the needs of this population. While the humanitarian world debates whether Myanmar is culpable for the genocide of the Rohingyas, their day-to-day needs and lived realities can no longer be brushed under the carpet or silenced through more violence. ∎ More Fiction & Poetry: Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5