Ten years ago, I stood in a dusty meeting room at the heart of our community. The walls were bare, the air still, but within that space stood women whose presence carried generations of silence. Some spoke in whispers. Others said nothing at all. Yet in that quiet, I felt something unmistakable, a deep burning fire. It was not loud, but it was powerful. It was a call to action, an insistence that our stories be heard, our struggles seen, and our dreams honored.
That moment marked the birth of the Indigenous Women Council. It began as a fragile dream, hope held gently between women who had long been told they were powerless. But even the smallest spark, when shared, can grow into something unstoppable. What started as a conversation grew into a movement. The Council became more than an organization; it became a heartbeat. A living, breathing reminder that when women rise together, there is no force stronger.
Over the past ten years, we have walked side by side, gathering more than 10,000 voices. Each voice carries a story: of a mother refusing to let her daughter be married off too soon, of a survivor of FGM reclaiming her identity, of a young girl walking miles to a school because she believed in a different future. These stories are not isolated, they are threads woven into a powerful tapestry of resilience, courage, and transformation. I have seen women stand tall in the face of judgment, laugh through tears, and hold each other when the weight of injustice seemed too heavy to bear.
My work with the Council has never been about paperwork or formalities. It has been about listening. About sitting with pain, honoring truth, and lifting voices that society has long chosen not to hear. Every woman I meet becomes part of a greater story, one of collective strength and shared purpose. There were moments when the obstacles felt insurmountable, climate crises, cultural resistance, funding gaps but the courage of the women I worked with never faltered. Their resilience became my compass, guiding every decision, every step.
Together, we created spaces where women could speak freely without shame, without fear. Where stories once told in hushed tones could be shared aloud and passed on. Where leadership was not assigned, but reclaimed. Slowly, the silence cracked, and what rose in its place was a chorus of voices too powerful to ignore. It was not just about advocacy; it was about rewriting the narrative of who Indigenous women are and what we are capable of.
Now, looking back, I see more than years. I see lives transformed. I see communities strengthened by the power of their women. I see a movement rooted in love, resilience, and the unwavering belief that every woman has the right to be heard, to lead, and to thrive. This is not just my story. It is ours. It belongs to every woman who dared to step forward, to speak up, to believe that something better was possible.
Ten years. Over 10,000 voices. One shared journey. And it’s not over. Because the work of solidarity, of courage, of reclaiming our voices never ends.
Jane Meriwas_ Samburu Women trust Director, IWC Secretariat.
