Tributes continue to come in for Dr Sylvia Tamale, the first woman Dean of the Faculty of Law at Makerere University, Uganda. Dr Tamale, an internationally renowned feminist activist and academic was honoured on December 2nd by the women's movement in Uganda for her extensive work to advance human rights in Africa. As we reflect on the impact of violence on the lives of women over the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence, we hear from two contributors. One is a survivor of domestic violence, and the other a young lesbian activist in Uganda. Both (whose identities have been protected) wished to express their appreciation for Dr Tamale's support for their individual and collective struggles. They also wish to focus attention on the critical importance of the work that Dr Tamale and others like her do. - Sarah Mukasa, Akina Mama wa Afrika

We Do Not Interfere in Domestic Matters

"The first step towards ending an abusive relationship is to have the courage to speak about it. To tell someone about the hell that you are living with is the first small step towards healing oneself. When I was ready to take that step, Sylvia was there to pick me up and to help me start the healing process. And so I will honor her, even as she honors me; by telling you my story. I am a survivor of domestic violence and an activist. My field of activism is democracy and good governance for my country Uganda. I have come to be active in women's rights after realizing that part of the reason that our countries have a huge democracy deficit is the non-involvement of women as primary actors in decision-making. But back to the subject:

I bring to the campaign to stop violence against women a perspective that I hope will help people to discard the often-misconceived stereotypes about the women who are subjected to domestic violence. I am a lawyer with a postgraduate degree in law and I studied the international protection of human rights. One would imagine therefore that I know my rights. This did not stop me from living with and marrying a companion who shot me through the right hand wrist in a fit of anger and possessiveness. I lived with my husband trying to make a marriage out of a war zone, seemingly unable to change my circumstances for eight years.

Each year the violence got worse especially after the birth of our first child (we have two). I knew he was being unfaithful and lived with the constant fear of contracting HIV/AIDS. Yet I went ahead and had a second child. When I tried to introduce condoms into the marriage I was battered for that too. And I stayed on a few more years. Until one day my daughter (3 years at the time) woke up during a particularly bad fight and found her father holding a cocked pistol to my head. It was then that I knew I had to leave. I decided that this was not the legacy I was going to leave for my daughter. I did not want her to grow up believing it is normal for women to be battered. I had never seen a fight between my parents as I grew up and they are still married.

I had a good job, good education; I am a political leader and a regular political columnist in Uganda. I had a very good standard of living. So why was I putting up with this abuse? Is it culture, upbringing or am I just a little crazy to have stayed with this man?

Then of course there is the question of making the laws work. The night I allowed myself to see that I was indeed a battered wife after all those years, I called my friends to come and help before my husband murdered me and I told them to bring the Police with them. The Police refused to come because they did not 'interfere in domestic matters'. This was assault with a deadly weapon. I did not need any subsidiary/domestic violence laws, the Penal Code should have been enough. But since I was a woman, being battered by her husband, the Police refused to interfere. In the morning I rushed to a local medical clinic and called a photographer to take pictures of my injuries (Now I think of it I never got round to picking up the pictures). I walked to the police station with the confidence of a lawyer who knew her rights. However, the drunken sod at the police laughed at me. "We do not interfere in domestic matters".

My husband is an army officer and so I went to his overall superior and asked him to disarm this domestic terrorist. Once again I was ignored. I called a relative who was a government Minister and asked her to talk to my husband's boss, he told her something like: "You know her! She must have provoked him". The 'Boy's Club' shut me out and I was on my own.

I did all the lawyerly things. I started the judicial separation process, appeared before a family court to settle the case. A senior Attorney represented my husband. He refused to believe that my husband could hold a gun to my head and he built a case based on the premise that I wanted to squeeze money out of my 'poor husband in some kind of revenge'. So I finally put on the 20/20 eyeglasses and allowed myself to see my life for what it was- a typical story of "The abused woman". The law and those who would write it, who swore to protect and defend it, were actually working against delivery of justice. I was in a country with no services for battered women. The counselling I got was from parents and friends who had no clue about domestic abuse except what they read and what I myself told them.

Throughout all of this, Sylvia has remained a true girl friend. When the abuse started I was hesitant to tell anyone about it because I thought it would be admitting to failure and weakness. But because of the trust that existed between us I was eventually able to open up to tell her what was going on. She listened and gave whatever advice she could. She listened to my woes and cried with me when I needed to cry. By simply being there, listening and believing in me, she kept me going another day.

When things were really tough Sylvia held on. Aside from the physical injuries, women who experience domestic violence have to deal with deep, often overwhelming feelings of complete worthlessness.

Sylvia would not let me give in to this mental anguish. She even asked me to edit the book she was writing at the time in 1997-98 but I was too consumed with my misery and could not complete the task. The fact that she offered showed me that she was trying to pull me out of my misery so that I could do something worthwhile and start believing in myself again.

After I left my husband Sylvia did not allow me to wallow in guilt and shame for a failed marriage. She came and sat with me in my new home and talked me through the threatening phone calls that my husband made from time to time. Sometimes I drank too much alcohol to take away the pain. Sylvia patiently waited for me to realize that the answer was not at the bottom of a bottle.

I guess the most important thing in all this is that my relationship with Sylvia and my closest friends never changed. That gave me a sense of security and continuity. I knew that in spite of all that happened I had a friend I could count on to pick me up and make sure I went on with my life.

Thank you Sylvia. It is time you were recognized for the work you have done for women such as myself in this county.

Sylvia, Our Hero, Our Friend. We are proud to commemorate the achievements of our dear friend and partner in the struggle for the rights of sexual minorities, Dr Sylvia Tamale. We are very honoured and grateful to be part of this ceremony. As you are all aware, Sylvia has endured a lot of criticism and hostility for speaking out. Yet she still chooses not to keep silent."

"As SEXUAL MINORITIES UGANDA (SMUG), we have benefited so much from the support of this powerful woman. I remember the first time our organization first met her way back in 2003. She was such a great and positive force. This was a total departure from our past encounters with the mainstream civil society and human rights sector. Often we were subjected to abuse, ridicule, dismissal, outright hostility. Occasionally if we were 'lucky', we met with those who arrogantly informed us, that our issues are not 'priorities'. Oh really? So it is fine in the meantime for us to be subjected to abuse, torture, ridicule, humiliation, police harassment, criminalization, and to live a life of constant fear and insecurity? All this came from the movement that is supposed to be promoting human rights in this country. Those who arrogantly spoke down to us in this way did not even recognize the irony of their remarks. Heterosexual women, who fight for the right to choose their partners; who resist the humiliation of having their sexuality policed and monitored by an established patriarchal order (for example, the policy of rewarding girls who remain virgins until marriage, as one of the main HIV prevention strategies of the Buganda Kingdom, FGM, early marriages and so on), would have us submit to the very oppression they resist. They do not see our struggle as a natural extension of the rights they seek. Apparently, the struggle for women's autonomy and bodily integrity is limited to a select few! One is forced to ask the question, what is the good of human rights if they do not protect the rights of all human beings? For whatever else people choose to call us, we are first and foremost, human beings.

And so when we met Sylvia we were somewhat cautious.

What a breath of fresh air she was. Here was someone who listened to us. She was not judgmental. She did not think us mad, immoral or evil. Instead she encouraged us to stand up for our rights, never to quit no matter what. She says we may never live to see the fruits of our efforts, but at least we would have made a difference, and the world a better place. She understood our pain and isolation, our fears and our hopes. She has inspired us to fight on.

This brave and courageous woman was last year voted worst woman of the year in a poll that was taken in one of Uganda's leading dailies. What a strange world we live in. Someone who stands up to fight for the rights of all people, without qualification; someone who struggles for an end to all violence and discrimination; this is the person, voted the worst woman of the year? Well, there are many of us who do not agree with this. Sylvia is our woman of the year, always.

We feel very honoured to be here today. We believe in Sylvia and we thank her for standing by us through thick and thin. She is such a wonderful person, one who inspires us. We have learnt and continue to learn so much from her.

We are proud to be associated with someone who understands our language, one who believes that it is unacceptable to discriminate against others simply because they are different from ourselves. Whilst many people in this country call gays and lesbians mad, insane, sick (you know what they call us), at least we know that there are people in this country who care to get along with us, even if they have not walked in our shoes.

To us Dr. Tamale is a friend, parent and a teacher.

Sylvia you will always be our hero."