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For Roma feminist scholar Nicoleta Bitu, Roma identity is intrinsically linked to intersectional feminism. Drawing on the familial lessons of her upbringing and her exposure to political activism as she came of age, Bitu introduces a new intellectual framework of gender equality and women’s liberation—one that not only benefits members of her ethnic community but also enriches broader discourse on feminist theory.
Roma night, Digital illustration (2024) by Anna Rabko






Theorizing the Romnie
When asked how she became a Roma activist and built an entire career out of it, Nicoleta Bițu replied, with her childlike smile: “Well, it's a long story…”
Bițu grew up in an exceptional Roma family where both parents proudly displayed their Roma identity during the communist era, a regime that spanned four decades and, like the rest of Eastern Europe, ended in 1989. While many “integrated” Roma hid their identity out of shame and fear of social repercussions, Bițu's parents lived their Roma identity publicly, almost like a manifesto.
“My father was born and raised in a hut,” Bițu recalled. At 13, he ran away from home, went to Bucharest, and enrolled in an automotive school with a boarding facility. At that time, the left-wing Romanian state was strongly encouraging poor people to pursue an education, which allowed Bițu's father to stay in a boarding school. He was later recruited for the non-commissioned officers' school and continued with evening Law Faculty.
Bițu emphasized how Romania’s left-wing government was crucial in giving her father the opportunity to become a general. “I wouldn't be here with you today if that socialist state hadn't given him that chance,” she stated. “Do you understand how important it is for a state to take responsibility for the education of poor children, creating human resources?” Bițu laments the loss of social democracy, which she saw as a benchmark in the 1990s.
The communist regime in Romania lasted from 1947 to 1989. A hopeful project which—according to historian Alexandru Groza—stopped the royalty from leeching off society and attempted to eliminate social inequalities in Romania, it transformed—during its implementation stage (before ‘64) and in its last two decades–into one of the cruelest dictatorships in 20th-century Europe.
“My father was dedicated to Romania, loyal if you will,” Bițu said, “and he remained left-wing until he died.” Sometimes he was even “too nationalist” for her taste, which would cause disputes between them. “The entire police force knew him as Biță Țiganu (Biță The Gypsy),” she added, “because, no matter what, he never hid his identity.”
Bițu comes from both a family of Roma aristocrats—from her mother’s side—and one of traditional coppersmiths dressed in skirts, vests, and headscarves, from a compact Roma community. She believes this background is why her family reacted seriously to every injustice. When racial discrimination was not even a topic of conversation in Romania, she grew up hearing the word “racism.”
For Bițu, what she saw in her parents’s house was also a form of activism. In Roma culture, you have an obligation to help the extended family, and she remembers that the four-room apartment, in a neighborhood almost devoid of Roma, was always occupied.
“Some came to attend school, some came to go to the doctor, some cousins ran away from home because her husbands beat her,” Bițu recalled.
“We were somehow a family with resources—not necessarily material resources—we were never rich—but [in] resources of information, networks, space [instead].”
In 1977, Nicolae Gheorghe, who would become the father of Romani civic activism in Romania and Nicoleta Bițu’s husband, entered Bițu Țiganu’s family.
In the Romania of the '90s, society was marked by riots between Romanians, Hungarians, and Roma, leading to the destruction of hundreds of houses, deaths, and the displacement of large groups of Roma population. Hatred against others boiled in the blood of post-communist Romanian society.
Nicolae, who had brought the necessary funds for rebuilding houses burned during an interethnic conflict, took Bițu to work with the Roma. She was 21 and it was her first year being an activist. One year later, in 1992, she was admitted to the Faculty of Sociology and Social Work in Bucharest, among the first generation that occupied the special places reserved for Roma students.
“I was fascinated by Nicolae Gheorghe's personality,” she reflected, “though I don't think there was anyone who wasn't. But Roma activism was our inspiration. We protested. We went out into the field. Somehow, it gave you a sense of purpose. It was hard not to fall in love with him; I don't think I was the only one. He had extraordinary courage to fight everyone for the Roma.”
At the age of 40, in 2010, Bițu began her Ph.D. at the National School of Political Science and Public Administration in Bucharest. Her thesis, Roma Women and Feminism, was the first in Romania to address the subject of Roma feminism.
In 1993, she became one of the founders of the Romani CRISS center, an NGO that provides legal assistance in cases of abuse, remaining with them until she left the country for the first time in 1999. Bițu lived with her husband and two daughters in Warsaw, Poland, for seven years.
For Biţu, the anchor remained her proximity to her community and her responsiveness to their suffering.
“It didn't matter to me what non-Roma people said about us,” she said. ”Perhaps it was due to the dignity with which I was raised, that I didn't require validation from non-Roma individuals to know who I am.”
Although she was very proud of her father as a public figure, Nicoleta Bițu strongly disapproved of many of his behaviors within the family.
She believes her becoming a feminist was no coincidence—that the violence she witnessed (her father's against her mother) played a decisive role. She raised her voice at every opportunity, claiming she didn't believe a father who beat his wife could truly love his children.
“I was very young when I started asserting this in the family,” Bițu recalled. “I had no contact with feminist literature back then, I was just reacting to injustice the way I was taught to.”
As a student in 1993, she wrote her first essay about Roma women in conflicts and how they ensure the continuity of everyday life, based on her fieldwork from conflict-affected communities. “Little did I know that it was feminism,” Bițu reflected.
There were also moments when Bițu clashed with some of her male Roma colleagues over how they treated her. In the 1990s, the tendency to control women's sexuality was pronounced, especially among Roma women, who were severely punished for engaging in sexual relationships outside marriage.
“I was the subject of such discussions where I was called a whore,” confessed Bițu, who then started reading everything she could find on the subject of women’s rights and female sexuality.
In 1998, at a meeting of Roma women in Budapest she met the directors of the women’s program at the Soros Foundation in New York, who invited her overseas the following year. Bițu was 28 at the time but had over nine years of activism experience, with just two breaks, worth three months each, to breastfeed her children.
It was only in New York that Bițu received her first real feminist books from one of the directors with whom she developed a deep friendship, including bell hooks, Simone de Beauvoir, Angela Davis, and Kimberlé Crenshaw.
“My bible was Ain't I a Woman by bell hooks,” shared Bițu, for whom the book provided answers to many of her personal questions in the Roma movement. “I never let go of that book; I felt that woman was speaking to me.”
In 1999, Bițu presented the first report to the Council of Europe on the situation of Roma women in Europe and has since continued tirelessly on the path of feminism. Her discourse has evolved over time, she said, from blaming Roma culture to focusing on racism and later on misogyny.
“When I first heard the concept of intersectionality, the sky lit up for me,” Bițu reflected. “These were such moments of enlightenment that helped me reinterpret and reach a nuanced discourse, sufficient to do justice to my people, but also to help me understand myself, as a person and a woman, from a historical and intersectional perspective.’
When she began her Roma feminist trajectory, she was called a traitor to her people for “distracting attention from the racism against Roma” to address a portion of it towards Roma feminism.
“Intersectionality somehow gives you the opportunity to analyze the problem as a whole,” Bițu shared. “It gives me the example of early marriages, which are not just about misogyny but also about historical racism.”
Early and forced marriages are still a problem in Romania. The 2021 census revealed that 521 girls aged 11 to 14 were living in so-called “consensual unions.” Although this type of abuse is not unique to Roma communities, it is believed to be partly an inherited consequence of the so-called “right of the first night” of Romanian landowners over their Roma slaves, during the centuries-long Roma slavery on Romanian territory.
To prevent their masters from exercising this right, Roma families often preferred to marry their daughters at a very young age. For Bițu, feminism has brought to light a historical perspective that did not exist before.
From the way she understood feminism and the responsibility she felt over reconstructing the suppressed identity of her people, she turned towards art, culture, and historical documentation. During the last decade and a half, Nicoleta Bițu’s life has been marked by the construction of spaces, identity, and culture, different from the traditional, oral ones, that are lived in communities. She contributed to the Roma digital archive, European Institute of Roma Art and Culture, and the Roma Museum.
“Unfortunately, today there are [even] fewer women in the Roma movement than there were in my time,” Bițu claimed. “It's a very tough men's world,” she continues decisively, almost with anger. “It's very hard to stand upright. I'm talking about myself now. I can't speak for others. The thing is, they [men] won't accept you as an equal, and when you reach the same level as them, you become a danger, and they come after you.”
Are there any Roma male feminists in Romania? “No,” she answered. “Nobody. In words only, yes. But not in their personal lives and inner beliefs.”
In 2019, Bițu migrated to England without a concrete plan. Initially, Bițu worked at a product packaging warehouse, in her own words, “experiencing humility in a dignified manner.” However, her path took a significant turn when she attended a job fair organized by a foundation dedicated to aiding the homeless. There, she applied for a position as a social worker and secured an interview, eventually joining the team in central London devoted to assisting 120 Roma individuals experiencing homelessness.
Bițu couldn't help but question the twists of fate that led her back to a similar situation, thousands of kilometers away from home. Her family teased her about the irony of her journey, yet she came to realize that she hadn't left behind her people, but rather expanded her engagement with the Roma movement beyond Romania. With newfound determination, she dedicated the next four years to establishing a comprehensive service focused on supporting Roma living on the streets of London, proudly securing its funding until March 2025.
In 2023, a spate of assaults targeting women sleeping on London's streets within three months signaled societal shifts: Brexit, the ascent of the right-wing, and the passing of anti-migration legislation, akin to a tightening noose around Bițu’s neck.
Last year, she returned home; after feeling she had been away from her daughters for too long and preferring to spend her remaining years with them.
Bițu is presently on hiatus, yet she vows to remain steadfast in the Roma cause until her last breath. Her time in London taught her that regardless of her whereabouts or endeavors, she cannot escape herself or her work as a Roma activist.
Numerous Roma feminists are marked by Nicoleta Bițu’s work and personality.
One of them is Ionela Pădure. She met Bițu in 2005, at the age of 19, and described her as the first Romani feminist voice she remembers.
“For me,” Pădure shared, “Nicoleta Bițu was, and still is, a complex Roma woman because she embodies all these roles: the mother of two beautiful daughters, the wife of Nicolae Gheorghe, an intellectual, and an activist–roles that, in Romania, were often seen as vulnerabilities. Yet, she knew how to juggle them, turn them into strengths, and carve out a space for herself in a male-dominated world, all while coming from a traditional community. To this day, she remains a dedicated mother, an activist working on the ground, and an intellectual who writes academic articles.”
Pădure comes from a family of settled Roma, musicians, and blacksmiths. She holds a degree from the Institut National des Langues et Civilisations Orientales in Paris and has taught French at a college in France. However, she decided to return home to teach the Romani language in a village 40 km from the capital. Recently, she left formal education and, together with her husband, founded CPCD Vizurești, an NGO that organizes activities for village children, including Indian dance, drumming, Romani language lessons, boxing workshops, and more.
Pădure described Bițu as a reference point for younger Romani women activists, who are just at the beginning of their careers—a mother they can talk to about anything. “Knowing she’s by my side gives me a sense of security,” Ionela said.
She also credits role models like Bițu for helping her imagine herself and set new expectations. “I, too, married young and wanted to be a mother,” Pădure reflected. “Meeting Nicoleta and seeing her embodying all those roles made me realize that I could also make them all.”
Oana Dorobanțu, similarly, is a queer feminist author, former journalist, human rights communication expert, and co-editor, together with Carmen Gheorghe, of one of the key books examining anti-roma racism in Romania.
She doesn’t want to be called an activist or a feminist. “Shouldn’t we all be activists and feminists?” Dorobanțu asked, refusing to define herself.
“I don’t know how words could ever do justice to all the admiration, respect, and love I have for this person,” she said, referring to Bițu. “I met Nico when I was 27, and she was by my side in the period after I decided to publicly acknowledge that I am of Romani ethnicity. The fact that she immediately accepted me as a Romnie (Roma woman in Romani language) was of great support for me.”
For Dorobanțu, Bițu “embodies feminism.” She believes that all Romani feminists, not just in Romania, owe Bițu a great deal. "Many may see her as being in the shadow of her husband, Nicolae Gheorghe, who was also a major activist,” Dorobanțu noted, “but they were together because they were equals in every sense."
One of the things Dorobanțu learned from Bițu is that there is no room for pride in activism, that you get involved in the movement for liberation, not for a résumé, ego, or reputation. She also learned that it’s important to know when to step back from the fight and when to return stronger, when to stay silent despite insults, and when to fight back.
“Nicoleta was never didactic or pedantic,” Dorobanțu recalled, “but she influenced us indirectly through her nature, her charisma, and her way of being.”∎
SUB-HEAD
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Profile
Bucharest
Roma
Romnie
Feminism
Activism
Political Activism
Liberation
Gender Equality
Politics of Ethnic Identity
Feminist Theory
Nicoleta Bitu
Communist Era
Eastern Europe
History
Leftism
Democracy
Romania
20th Century Europe
Bita The Gypsy
Aristocracy
Community
Injustice
Nicolae Gheorghe
Civic Activism
Riots
Civil Society
Conflict
Interethnic Conflict
Political Science
Roma Women and Feminism
Romani CRISS Center
NGO
Violence
Domestic violence
Feminist Literature
bell hooks
Simone de Beauvoir
Angela Davis
Kimnerle Crenshaw
Council of Europe
Misogyny
Racism
Intersectional
Forced Marriage
Right of the first night
Suppression
Reconstruction
Space
Place
Identity
Tradition
Oral History
Archive
European Institute of Roma Art and Culture
Roma Museum
Roma Movement
Migration
Homelessness
St. Mungo's
Anti-migration
Legislation
Academia
Culture
The Romanian Problem
Hecate
CPCD Vizurești
Oana Dorobanțu
IULIA HAU is a journalist based in Bucharest who investigates and writes stories about migration, inequality, discrimination and travel. Her work has been featured in Al Jazeera, Caracas Chronicles, Voxurop, The Republic, Global Voices National Geographic, and Vice, among others.
Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes.
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3rd
Feb
2025
Iulia Hau

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