"The Women of Amphissa"

THE DIARY OF A HUMAN RIGHTS ADVOCATE

As a Nigerian young woman born and raised in Italy, my childhood was anything but typical.

I was raised by my former Italian godparents, and every evening the three of us would sit around the dinner table, TV on. My godfather would eagerly break his bread, eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the 8 o’clock news. Once the hour struck, silence fell; no one was allowed to speak. It was time to listen.

As a child, I hated that tradition. The news felt boring, completely unrelated to my world at the time. Meanwhile, my godparents sat captivated by every update, every new law, every current affair that might affect us. But one thing stood out to me, no matter the day, no matter the year, the news always reported the same kind of tragedy: a woman murdered by her passionate, possessive, and paranoid partner.

They called it femminicidio—murder committed simply because she was a woman.
At the time, I didn’t grasp its weight. But a decade later, that word would shape my understanding of womanhood, identity, and purpose.

Growing up, International Women’s Day on national TV wasn’t a day of celebration. It wasn’t about honouring the strength and achievements of women throughout history. It was a day of mourning. A list of names would scroll on the screen; women who had lost their lives to gender-based violence. And every year, that list grew longer.

They would air a short play narrating a woman’s journey through domestic abuse. It followed the stages of emotional manipulation, isolation, physical harm, silence, fear, until eventually she was killed. It aimed to send a message of hope, telling women in similar situations that they still had a choice and that it wasn’t too late to walk away. The segment always ended with a helpline. But I couldn’t help but wonder: What good was a number, if the system stayed the same? If the deaths kept rising?

As I grew older, I developed a deep love for my heritage. Reconnecting with my Nigerian roots exposed me to another truth: misogyny exists everywhere, in different forms, yet echoing the same pain. 

I remember family members saying, “It’s normal for men to cheat. It’s just how they are.” I remember hearing church elders settling domestic abuse incidents by blaming the wife because “If she hadn’t spoken to him like that, he wouldn’t have hit her.” That culture of silence, shame, and misplaced blame shook me. I could not understand how domestic abuse was normalised and to some extent even glorified. 

Over time, I realized something deeply unsettling:
We know that violence against women exists.
We know it’s happening because they are women.
Yet we’re still missing something.

We still shift the blame.
We still place the burden on women telling them to be cautious, to be silent, to be strong, while rarely holding the systems, the culture, and the perpetrators accountable.

Yes, there are more organizations today advocating for women, providing shelter, resources, and emotional support. But prevention—the kind that challenges power structures and tackles root causes—is still severely lacking.

That’s why I’ve started this blog.

This isn’t just a diary. It’s a call to conversation, a space where we begin to shift our perspective. Where we talk about gender inequality not as a “women’s issue” but as a human issue. Because yes, while women and girls are disproportionately affected, gender inequality hurts everyone: men, children, families, communities, and society at large. 

Let’s be honest: this is all of our business.

So, walk this journey with me. Each post will shine a light on issues both near and far, personal and global. I want to challenge how we think, how we respond, and who we hold accountable.

Together, we can raise awareness.
Together, we can build community.
Together, we can create change.

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This is just the beginning of the conversation. If something in this story spoke to you, whether you’re a survivor, an advocate, or an ally, please share your thoughts below. Let’s listen, learn, and speak up together. And if you believe this message matters, pass it on.