Youth Act! — from Ipas

…for sexual and reproductive health and rights. Youth voices from around the globe. Ipas works to increase young people’s ability to exercise their sexual and reproductive rights—including the right to safe, legal abortion. www.ipas.org

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Help us work to make Marta Maria’s wish for women a reality by giving a donation today! 

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Help us end the injustice of unsafe abortion

Young activists in Nicaragua shouldn’t have to raise awareness of the devastating impact of their country’s total abortion ban. How many more women must die? #AbortionIsNotACrime #10YearsOfInjustice #GivingTuesday

Help us end the injustice of unsafe abortion by giving a donation today!

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“Abortion: Women decide. Society respects. The government guarantees.”

Activists in Nicaragua have been saying this for 10 years, but a total ban on abortion continues. Help us end injustices like this by giving a donation today.

https://www.ipas.org/get-involved/donate-now/donate?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_content=donate&utm_campaign=10years

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Cómo pasé a ser promotora del derecho de cada mujer al aborto seguro y legal

Por Claudia Martínez Lopez, ginecobstetra, asesora clínica de Ipas México y becada del Programa de Becas Maguire de Ipas 2016

Me crié en El Salvador, en una sociedad un poco pasiva, sin mayor cuestionamiento de lo que digan “los mayores”, las costumbres y la Iglesia. Entre nuestros males desfilan la inseguridad, la indiferencia y el no reconocimiento de los derechos humanos, entre otros.

Respeto las creencias de todas las personas pero aún más, hoy por hoy, respeto la vida de las personas que me rodean (sean conocidas o no). Casi a fines de mis estudios en medicina general, durante el año de servicio social, recibí mi primer taller sobre el respeto por los derechos humanos; ese fue el inicio de reflexiones sobre temas que nunca se discuten “porque son pecado”. De ahí en adelante fui más consciente de un tema tan horroroso: el Aborto.

A lo largo de ocho años de estudio para ser médica general y luego tres años más para ser ginecobstetra, en un país que niega el acceso al aborto bajo toda circunstancia, me enteré de muchas compañeras que hicieron malabares económicos para tener acceso al mismo; ellas provenían, hasta cierto punto, de un grupo privilegiado porque lograron el cometido sin mayor percance. Pero no todas tuvieron un final feliz. Durante mi residencia de ginecobstetricia, en el único hospital especializado para la mujer, situado en la capital del país, vi como cada día se presentaban casos de mujeres embarazadas con alguna complicación de cualquier enfermedad, todas ellas con poca o ninguna educación, a la voluntad de lo que decidieran los médicos que las atendían y muy pocas podían expresar su opinión o voluntad.

Recuerdo claramente dos historias que me marcaron: la primera una madre joven y su hija adolescente llorando desesperada por “una solución al problema”, acudieron a la sala de urgencias del hospital durante mi guardia y solicitaron un aborto. La niña había sido violada por mareros (miembros de pandillas criminales, de las más violentas del mundo y radicadas en El Salvador); estaban amenazadas de muerte y la niña estaba embarazada. La otra mujer, una trabajadora doméstica relató los hechos de una violación muy violenta: “a una la tratan peor que a un perro”, dijo. Y así sucesivamente vimos muchos casos más de mujeres a las que no se les brindaba ni la atención adecuada ni el mínimo reconocimiento de respeto a su dignidad. Todo lo que podíamos hacer era ayudar con lo que teníamos al alcance (recetar medicamentos para prevenir alguna infección de transmisión sexual, llenar un formulario, mandarla a cita con psicología) hacerse casi ciegos, encomendarlas al Todopoderoso: “Pobrecita, que Dios la ayude”. Nunca lo creí justo. Y hasta la fecha siento culpa por no haber hecho algo sensato para ayudarlas. Fui cobarde.

Todos estos sucesos te provocan a replantearte por qué debes creer que una mujer debe recibir un castigo “divino” por las decisiones que toma, por solicitar un aborto. Estas mujeres están reconociendo que NO pueden/quieren cargar con la responsabilidad de la maternidad; porque también sucede que muchas de ellas no cuentan con el apoyo de la contraparte masculina y/o fueron víctimas de violencia, y/o nunca tuvieron la información ni el acceso básico a servicios de salud reproductiva, y/o pertenecen a poblaciones vulnerables. 

Y me da pena pensar que como médicos, a veces, se nos olvida el valor de cada mujer. Puede ser fácil olvidar que siendo yo capaz de evitar estas muertes, prefiera negarme a brindar una atención de salud básica, que ha demostrado ser segura, por el simple hecho de pensar en los prejuicios y preceptos sociales en torno al aborto, (porque nos resulta más cómodo y porque estamos acostumbrados a no dudar de lo que dice “la santa y pura religión”). No creo en un Dios punitivo, no creo que exista complacencia por las miles de mujeres muertas a causa de un aborto inseguro. Y sobre todo porque todas estas muertes se pudieron haber evitado si hubiéramos eliminado los estigmas y prejuicios. 

Siempre he pensado que todos llegamos a este mundo por una razón específica; la mía es esta causa, en esta organización, por los derechos sexuales y reproductivos, término que desconocía hasta hace algunos años. No sabría decir con exactitud qué fue lo que me motivó al cambio, pero comprendí que lo justo y lo lógico era brindar apoyo a las mujeres; siendo médica esto significa una oportunidad y un deber. Puedo decir que duermo en paz sabiendo que he ayudado a una mujer que se encuentra en esta situación. He ayudado a evitar la muerte por un aborto inseguro. Cada mujer tiene sus razones, y yo no soy jueza para poner en tela de duda sus decisiones.

Muchas personas dirán: “¿Para qué tuvo sexo? ¡Existen anticonceptivos! En las farmacias, centros de salud, etc.”. Pero para contestar esa pregunta, cada persona debe reflexionar: ¿En verdad estos sistemas funcionan como deberían? ¿Toda la ciudadanía tiene las mismas oportunidades de acceso? ¿Son eficaces las políticas de salud? ¿Recibí o brindé YO una educación sexual SIN prejuicios y completa?  Siempre hay promesas políticas de mejorar el acceso de TODAS las personas a los servicios básicos, pero en la práctica NUNCA se concretan. No podemos obligar a las mujeres a tener hijos cuando no están preparadas para ello. No podemos obligar a nadie a ser madre o padre, porque también el producto en formación merece una vida DIGNA.

Debemos cuidar más a nuestras mujeres, sobre todo las más desprotegidas, las olvidadas, las excluidas de oportunidades. La necesidad de recurrir al aborto no va a desaparecer. El aborto ha existido desde tiempos inmemoriales y continuará existiendo.

Como bien diría Maqués de Sade: La conciencia no es la voz de la naturaleza, sino solo la voz de los prejuicios.

Entonces debemos ser parte de la solución, juzgar menos, cuidar más y dejar a un lado los prejuicios.

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How I became an advocate for every woman's right to safe, legal abortion

By Claudia Martínez Lopez, Ob-Gyn, clinical advisor for Ipas Mexico, and one of Ipas’s 2016 Maguire Fellows

I grew up in El Salvador, in a somewhat passive society, without much questioning of that said by “grown-ups,” customs and the Church. Among our evils parade insecurity, indifference and failure to recognize human rights.

I respect the beliefs of every individual, but even more, day by day, I respect the lives of those around me (be they acquaintances or strangers). Toward the end of my studies in general medicine, during my year of social service, I attended my first workshop on respect for human rights; that was the beginning of reflections on issues that are never discussed “because they are a sin.” From that point on, I was more conscious of a very horrible topic: Abortion.

Throughout my eight years of studies to become a general practitioner, and then three more years to become an Ob/Gyn, in a country that denies access to abortion under all circumstances, I found out about many peers who juggled their economic resources to have access to abortion care. To a certain degree, they came from a privileged group, because they were able to accomplish the task without further mishap. But not all of them had a happy ending. During my Ob/Gyn residency, in the only hospital specializing in women’s health, located in the country’s capital, I saw each day cases of pregnant women who presented with complications of various diseases, all of them with little or no education, at the will of that decided by their treating physicians, and very few of them could express their opinion or their will.

I remember vividly two stories that marked me: the first of a young mother and her adolescent daughter crying desperately for “a solution to their problem,” who presented at the hospital’s ER during my shift and requested an abortion. The girl had been raped by mareros (members of some of the world’s most violent criminal gangs, located in El Salvador); their lives had been threatened, and the girl was pregnant as a result of the rape. The other woman, a domestic worker, reported the facts of a very violent rape: “they treat us women worse than dogs,” she said. And so on, we saw many more cases of women who did not receive adequate care or minimal recognition of respect for their dignity. All we could do was help with what was at our hands (prescribe medications to prevent a sexually transmitted infection, fill out a form, refer them to a psychologist), almost turn a blind eye, entrust them to the Almighty: “Poor woman, may God help her.” I never thought it was fair. And to this day I feel guilty for not having done something sensible to help them. I was a coward.

All these events make you question why you should believe that a woman should receive “divine” punishment for the decisions she makes, for requesting an abortion. These women are recognizing that they CANNOT or DO NOT want to bear the responsibility of motherhood, because many of them do not have the support of their male counterpart, and/or were victims of violence, and/or never had information or basic access to reproductive health services, and/or belong to vulnerable populations.

And I’m ashamed to think that as physicians, sometimes we forget the value of each woman. It may be easy to forget that I, being capable of preventing these deaths, would rather refuse to provide basic health care, which has been shown to be safe, for the simple fact of thinking about social biases and precepts regarding abortion (because we feel more comfortable in so doing and because we are used to not questioning what “the holy and pure religion” says). I do not believe in a punitive God; I do not believe He derives satisfaction from the thousands of women who have died due to an unsafe abortion. Especially because all these deaths could have been prevented had we eliminated stigmas and prejudices.

I have always thought that we all come into this world for a specific reason; mine is this cause, in this organization, for sexual and reproductive rights, a term which I did not know until a few years ago. I cannot say exactly what motivated me to change, but I understood that what is just and logical is to provide support to women; as a physician, for me this means both an opportunity and a duty. I can say that I sleep peacefully knowing that I have helped a woman who is in this situation. I have helped prevent a death from unsafe abortion. Each woman has her reasons, and I am no judge to question her decisions.

Many people will say “Why did she have sex? There are contraceptives! In pharmacies, in health centers, etc.” But to answer that question, each person should reflect: Do these systems really work as they should? Do all citizens have the same opportunities of access? Are health policies effective? Did I receive or provide comprehensive sex education WITHOUT biases? There are always political promises to improve EVERYONE’S access to basic health care, but in practice they NEVER materialize. We cannot force women to have children when they are not ready. We cannot force anybody to become a mother or father, because the fetus also deserves a DIGNIFIED life.

We should take better care of our women, especially those who are the most unprotected, those who are forgotten or neglected, those who are excluded from opportunities. The need to resort to abortion will not disappear. Abortion has existed since time immemorial and will continue existing.

To quote Maquis de Sade: “Conscience is not the voice of Nature, but only the voice of prejudice.”

Thus, we must be part of the solution, judge less, care more and put aside prejudices.

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Ladies, it’s your responsibility to keep yourselves safe. Really?!

Brittany Moore, Ipas’s 2016 Maguire Fellow from the United States, engaged in an eight-week work placement with Ipas Development Foundation (IDF) in India. Here she talks about the experience of being a woman in Delhi and the culture of blaming women for harassment and abuse they receive—in India, the U.S. and beyond.

It can be difficult to be a woman all across the globe; however, the challenges can vary vastly and the level of gender inequality can be subtle or can be completely in your face. As a woman in the U.S., my life has been shaded with sexual and emotional abuse and subtle, systematic inequalities that rear their ugly head once someone is brave enough to address the issue head-on. In Delhi, the gender inequality slapped me in the face as soon as I walked in the front door of the mall, for example. The “safety” sign (see above) at the Citywalk mall left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a level of anger with no outlet.              

On one hand, the mall is open and honest about the fact that there is, indeed, an issue of violence and sexual assault against women. On the other hand, instead of condemning the negative and inappropriate actions of the perpetrators, they instead suggest a list of methods women can use to prevent these attacks. The idea that women have to change their entire lifestyle in order to hopefully fend off unwanted attention absolutely blows my mind—and it’s an idea common in the U.S. too.

The sign’s section on confidence and the guidance to “resist any attempt of physical eve-teasing” is simply offensive, in my opinion. The idea that women need to be told to avoid physical eve-teasing is laughable, as in general women do not appreciate nonconsensual physical touch. However, to “resist” against these actions can sometimes lead to additional aggressive behavior, escalating the situation further and making it more violent. Around the world and back in the U.S., I am constantly bewildered how these issues are always up to the women to solve, to change their behavior, when it is in fact the perpetrator who needs to know that their actions are reprehensible and, hopefully, illegal.

Along similar lines, I saw that women in Delhi tend to adjust their lifestyle in order to avoid potential negative contact with men. Women shouldn’t go out after dark by themselves, women should dress modestly (despite the heat), women should avoid groups of men, and the list goes on. It was difficult to adjust to these standards at times, though my friends were completely supportive and when we did go somewhere after dark, I always felt safe with them. But the fact is that the women who live there have to face this reality every day, while most men go about their daily lives in any way they choose.

Too often, when women experience assault of any type, in settings around the world, they hear statements like these from people who know and love them: Why didn’t you try to fight back harder? If I was the one who got attacked, I would have beat him up. Maybe next time you go on a date, you should bring a weapon. If you really didn’t want it to happen, then you probably could have tried harder to stop it.

This attitude that it’s a woman’s responsibility to prevent her own harassment or assault permeates the minds of our friends and loved ones, the guidance we receive about how to stay safe, and our laws. Always, the onus is on the woman and, as always, this has never been enough to change the tide of abusive behavior and violence against women. It frustrates me and overwhelms me, partially because I feel helpless against the entire institution of it. 

But! There are signs of change. In the U.S. we’ve definitely seen progress on the issues of sexual violence and rape culture, with more women—and men—speaking out about the need for a cultural shift. And in Delhi I did meet and work with many men who shared my views about women’s equality. I lived across the road from a college in Delhi, and in that environment I saw women wearing less modest clothing and exuding an air of confidence, even going for walks around the block on their own at night. Along the same lines, the men I met seemed to push back against the traditional views about women in India. As the younger generation is so often the one to push social progress, I very much hope that will be the case worldwide with women’s equality—and safety.

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¿Eres menor de 30 años? ¿Conoces tus derechos sexuales? Dale click al link de arriba para mayor información!

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From Delhi to Accra: Bride prices, dowries and a woman’s sense of freedom

Priyanka Subramaniam, Ipas’s 2016 Maguire Fellow from India, embarked upon an eight-week work placement with Ipas Ghana. Here she shares insights on gender roles and what it’s like to be a woman in both India and Ghana.

I got asked a lot of questions in Ghana. Some of them were familiar, they were questions any single Indian woman in her late twenties would be used to: Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you going to get married? What do you mean you don’t want to get married? But the one that bore down the differences in gender roles between Indian and Ghana was this one: Is it true that in India the girl’s side pays the bride price? I didn’t understand what I was being asked at first, and then someone explained to me that in some Ghanaian communities it was customary for the groom’s side to “pay” for the bride—with gifts to her parents and to bear the costs of the wedding.

India’s infamous dowry system is the exact opposite. In India, historically and broadly culturally speaking, this practice of a bride’s parents paying—literally—as a condition of their daughter’s marriage has had major social implications. Dowry is prohibited in India under the Dowry Prohibition Act of 1961. In actuality, the system continues unabated and puts undue pressure on the parents of daughters. This then leads to son preference which further leads to gender-biased sex selection when women become pregnant. Government sanctions and actions to curb gender-biased sex selection (well-meaning but implemented poorly) then culminate in restricted access to safe abortion. This is a simplistic explanation, of course, because the reality is too complex to be condensed into a paragraph or even to be explained over a lunch of fried yam and pork (my very favourite dish in Ghana).

India is not an easy place to be a woman, especially if you are not lucky enough to have the significant privileges—a job, education, supportive upbringing—that I have and that millions of Indian women don’t. The society is patriarchal, and gender inequity and inequality are a daily reality. Most women have little agency when it comes to their sexual and reproductive health and rights. My observation of life in Ghana (over a short time period and within the safe confines of home, work, and travel with companions) was not diametrically opposite to my experience of life as a woman in India; which is to say that there were as many parallels as there were differences. But the differences were significant. It was a pleasure to see women wearing clothing and styles that I would never wear in India, to talk to young women making their own choices in partners, and at the end of the day I have to admit it felt freer to be a woman in Accra than I do every day in Delhi.

Apart from a quick lesson on gender roles, eight weeks in Ghana taught me other things: how to eat fufu the right way, what a grasscutter is, and that Ghanaian jollof is better than Nigerian jollof. One of the most important lessons, however, and one that I will carry forward is to be open—to questions, ideas and experiences. Stepping into a new cultural milieu or joining a new group with preconceived notions and a mind closed to ideas will leave you with few opportunities to learn, have fascinating conversations, build new relationships, or even traverse an exhilarating forest canopy walk! (See photo evidence above of my being open to new experiences—the Forest Canopy Walk in Ghana’s Kakum National Park.)

Another lesson is to be direct—ask for what you want, and speak up (respectfully) when you have something to say. And lastly, a lesson that was reinforced time and again was the need to look for humour when other responses fail you—it came into use on several occasions, including when discussing polygamy and divorce, talking about LGBTQIA issues, and turning down a proposal of marriage from a brand new acquaintance.

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A lesson from Ghana: Young people care

Priyanka Subramaniam, Ipas’s 2016 Maguire Fellow from India, embarked upon an eight-week work placement with Ipas Ghana. Here she talks about the leadership and passion she encountered in young people.

During my country office placement, Cynthia Tawiah, Ipas Ghana’s Youth Advisor, asked me if I would do a four-hour session on content writing for social media for their Youth Advisory Board (YAB). Now, I’ve missed the cut-off for “youth” as defined by the YAB by three years, but visions of long, boring, seemingly interminable lectures I was forced to attend during my time as a student loomed ominously in front of me. How was I supposed to keep a group of young men and women interested and engaged for four hours? (In photo, see me at center preparing for the workshop with Cynthia Tawiah and Kenneth Agyakwa of Ipas Ghana.)

The principle behind the YAB is simple. Since sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR), including comprehensive abortion care, play such an important role in the lives of young men and women, they should be able to contribute in some way to the design and implementation of SRHR programs. The YAB serves this purpose for Ipas Ghana, and plays an important role in building awareness among communities. YAB members also serve as referral points within their communities.

I shouldn’t have worried about keeping the group engaged. The YAB’s incredible enthusiasm for the work that they do, their drive to learn, and their sheer dynamism made the session (at least for me) some of the most fun I had in Ghana.

And I’m pretty sure I learned more than I shared that day. I learned how empowering a personal story of motivation can be—the young men and women were part of the YAB for so many different reasons, all of them compelling: the desire to achieve more than the women in their community were usually allowed; to prevent mortality due to unsafe abortion that had taken away the life of a family member far too soon; to ensure that friends were not at risk of SRHR-related morbidity… I was so impressed by their ability to channel their experiences and stories into their motivation to affect positive change. Their ability to surmount obstacles and still have the kindness and desire to help other people is truly humbling.

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Ipas - Youth at the center

When it comes to sexual and reproductive health, young people have unique needs and face unique challenges to accessing care—especially when seeking often-stigmatized services such as contraception or safe abortion.

Girls and young women MUST play a central role in programs to improve their sexual and reproductive health. Here's an inspiring story of how that's happening in Zambia. 

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Ipas puts youth at the center | from Ipas

Learn about how Ipas works with youth to inspire better futures at http://www.ipas.org. To make a donation to Ipas, go to http://www.ipas.org/donate. Ipas wo...

On #DayoftheGirl, we celebrate the amazing leadership by girls and young women in the movement for sexual and reproductive rights.

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10 years ago in October, Nicaragua's government passed a total ban on abortion. Women have lost their lives as a result. The world is watching.

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Perspectivas sobre el derecho y acceso al aborto en Jamaica

Las barreras principales para acceder a servicios de aborto en mi comunidad son el miedo y la crítica. Además, el fundamentalismo religioso es un factor importante dentro de las barreras de acceso. Por ejemplo, yo asisto a una iglesia pentecostal, y nos han enseñado es que el aborto es un error y un pecado contra Dios. No hay estrategias disponibles para sensibilizar sobre el aborto seguro en mi comunidad.  

Recientemente, una de mis compañeras me contactó debido a que había tenido relaciones sexuales sin protección, estaba preocupada por un embarazo y preguntaba acerca de sus opciones y qué podía hacer al respecto. Ella estaba más allá de las 72 horas de tomar un anticonceptivo de emergencia. Por la falta de conocimientos, no sabía sus opciones. [Nota editorial: En Jamaica, el aborto es legal solamente para salvar la vida de la mujer o para preservar su salud física o mental.] 

¿Por qué debería ser legal? 

Si una persona es víctima de una violación, debe tener la opción de acceder a un aborto seguro. En ese sentido, la interrupción del embarazo es para el bienestar mental de la mujer. Otra regulación eficaz podría ser que los abortos se permitan durante los primeros meses de embarazo, antes de que el feto sea viable. Como ya se realiza en los países donde es legal. Esto permitiría la seguridad del procedimiento y disminuiría las consecuencias sanitarias de los abortos inseguros. 

¿Cómo los hombres pueden estar involucrados con el movimiento por el aborto seguro y legal? 

Los hombres pueden involucrarse con organizaciones, como JFPA (asociación miembro de IPPF en Jamaica), con el fin de capacitarse para dar educación dentro de sus comunidades, de manera que las mujeres conozcan sus opciones. Creo que hay muchas otras opciones que podemos hacer personalmente, tales como: la práctica de sexo seguro, conocer también que las píldoras anticonceptivas de emergencia se pueden utilizar antes de que se necesite un aborto. Si las personas conocieran sus opciones de anticoncepción, disminuiría la necesidad de abortos. 

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Sobre el autor: Andre* es un activista joven en la Asociación de Planificación Familiar de Jamaica (JFPA). Ha estado trabajando y siendo miembro del grupo de jóvenes por 6 años. Miembro de la Red de Jóvenes de IPPF/RHO. 

* Se utiliza un pseudónimo para proteger la confidencialidad del autor de este blog.

** Foto con permiso de IPPF/RHO

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Perspectives on abortion rights and access in Jamaica

The main barrier to accessing abortion services in my community is the fear and criticism one might receive for having an abortion. Religious fundamentalism is also a major factor in accessing abortion services. For example, I am an attendee of a Pentecostal church, and what has been taught at church is that abortion is wrong and a sin against God. So there are no strategies or innovations available to increase awareness about safe abortions.

Just recently, I was contacted by a peer regarding an issue she was facing after having unprotected sex and being concerned that she might be pregnant. She was inquiring about her options and next steps because she was past the 72 hours to take an emergency contraceptive. As a result of the lack of awareness, she did not know her options. [Editor’s note: In Jamaica, abortion is illegal except to save a woman’s life or preserve her physical or mental health.]

Why should abortion be legal? What are the consequences of its criminalization?

If a person is raped, they should have the option to have a safe abortion. In that sense, it is for the mental well-being of the woman. Another effective regulation could be that safe abortions could be legal during the first months of pregnancy before the fetus develops further, as it is performed in countries where abortion is legal. This would allow for safety because it would decrease the consequences of unsafe abortions.

How can men be involved with the movement for safe and legal abortion?

Men can get involved with organizations, such as JFPA (IPPF member association in Jamaica), in order to be able to provide education within their communities so that women are aware of their options. I believe that there are many other options we can personally do, such as: practicing safe sex, and to know that emergency contraceptive pills can be used before abortion is needed. If people were educated on this matter then it would lessen the need for abortions.

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About the author: Andre* is a 24-year-old youth advocate at Jamaica Family Planning Association (JFPA). He’s a member of International Planned Parenthood Federation/Western Hemisphere’s Youth Network, and he has been working within the group for about six years.

* Alias used by author to protect his confidentiality.

** Photo used with permission from IPPF.

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Ipas - Movement for safe, legal abortion goes global

Advocates for women’s health and rights around the world are increasingly successful at breaking down the laws and other barriers that keep women from accessing safe abortion.

When abortion is a crime, women suffer—along with their families and communities. But advocates for women’s health and rights around the world are increasingly successful at breaking down the laws and other barriers that keep women from accessing safe abortion. And a global movement for safe, legal abortion is growing. Check it out!

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The biggest barrier to safe abortion: People don’t want to talk about it

By David Imbago Jácome

Ecuador is a country with laws that criminalize abortion, both for women and for health providers, however the biggest barrier I've seen is that people don’t want to talk about abortion and when they decide to do so, they usually become judges.

It’s common to meet people who after a brief talk, they tell me they agree with access to safe abortion, but "only under certain circumstances." Also I often hear: “If access to safe abortion is legal it becomes custom and women would cease to be responsible for their actions." It seems incredible how access is limited when there are still rapes, and while we have poor sexuality education and low access to safe contraceptive methods.

Often a woman is condemned to live a life that she doesn’t want because of just one decision or another, simply because of the way we think about abortion, inherited from biased sex education based on fear that showed us images totally distant from the reality of safe abortion.

What can we do? Educate ourselves and educate people—but how? With evidence-based information, with facts, forging our own opinion after reflecting on all the necessary data. Our position regarding access to safe abortion must be our position, not the conservative position of our government, our school, or even our parents.

We defend the right to choose for a more just world for every woman who is imprisoned unjustly, for each separated family, for every doctor who is only doing his or her job, and for the women who die every day from a totally preventable cause.

 About the author: David Imbago Jácome, age 23. Quito, Ecuador. Medical student, Pontifical Catholic University of Ecuador. President of the Medical Students Association for Projects and Exchanges (AEMPPI). Collaborator with CEPAM, the IPPF/WHR member association in Ecuador.

I think it is on young people to create a revolution in Sexual and Reproductive Rights.

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La más grande barrera al aborto seguro: La gente no quiere hablar al respecto

Por David Imbago Jácome

Ecuador es un país con leyes que penalizan el aborto, tanto para la mujer como para el personal de salud, sin embargo la más grande barrera que he visto, es que la gente no quiere hablar al respecto y cuando deciden hacerlo, usualmente se convierten en jueces.

Ha sido común encontrarme con algunas personas que luego de hablar del tema me dicen que están de acuerdo con el acceso a aborto seguro, pero “sólo en ciertas circunstancias”, alguna vez escuche que, si el acceso a aborto seguro es legal, “las mujeres harían costumbre y dejarían de ser responsables sobre sus actos”. Parece increíble cómo se limita el acceso cuando todavía existen violaciones, si no tenemos una educación sexual de calidad y disponibilidad para adquirir métodos anticonceptivos seguros

Muchas veces se condena a una mujer a vivir una vida que no quiere por una u otra decisión, solo por la opinión que tenemos sobre el aborto, heredada de una educación sexual parcializada basada en el miedo, que nos mostraba imágenes totalmente alejadas de la realidad del aborto seguro.

¿Qué podemos hacer? Educarnos y educar a la gente ¿Cómo? Con información basada en evidencia, con hechos, forjando nuestra propia opinión después de una reflexión con todos los datos necesarios. Que nuestra posición respecto al acceso a aborto seguro sea nuestra posición, no la posición conservadora de nuestro gobierno, de nuestra escuela, de nuestros padres. 

Defendamos el derecho a decidir por un mundo más justo, por cada mujer que es encarcelada injustamente, por cada familia separada, por cada médico que sólo está haciendo su trabajo y por cada mujer que muere cada día por una causa totalmente prevenible. 

Sobre el autor: David Imbago Jácome, 23 años. Quito, Ecuador. Estudiante de Medicina, Pontificia Universidad Católica del Ecuador, Presidente de la Asociación de Estudiantes de Medicina para Proyectos e Intercambios (AEMPPI). Colaborador para el CEPAM, Asociación Miembro de IPPF/RHO en Ecuador.

Creo que depende de los jóvenes crear una revolución en Derechos Sexuales y Reproductivos.