And there are those who heal by touch, those who do massage, energy healing; those who heal through art like Felicité Codjo or through theater like Nathalie Vairac … Of course the Cartesian wiring of my brain often resists, but my beliefs matter less so long as patients feel better.
There are yet those who heal by listening and asking questions. Coaches like Patricia Sennequier and Fatime Faye or just women’s human rights defenders. Binta Sarr is gone, but she left attentive ears to women’s pain at APROFES. Oftentimes, the best care is listening; someone who agrees with you that you were treated with injustice. Oftentimes, the best caregiver is a lawyer, a gynecologist, a legal adviser or just a sister who accompanies you to the police station and testifies that you are not the one at fault, but the victim.
The Invisible Giants, the women that I share about, the women whose stories I tell, had to heal themselves. They had to walk the journey to their own healing, the journey to learning, sometimes informally, and then formally, how to find a solution for themselves, their families or their neighbors.
Who heals the healers? Who takes care of the Invisible Giants and of those who give hope? There seems to be a vacuum. I often have no answers to my questions. At the Feminist Republiik convening in Kenya, organized by Urgent Action Fund, I saw the opportunity to give this moment to healers. Even though we do not have the means to organize an event of that magnitude, we must at a smaller scale find ways to provide a space for rest to our brave fighters.
The celebration of the Invisible Giants is an attempt to recognize and care for those who give so much to so many people in our communities.