Awana Digital just co-hosted an Indigenous women’s gathering in Brazil, bringing together 90 women from more than five Indigenous nationalities, from May 12th to 15th, 2025. This blog is a reflection from Bárbara González Segovia, who led the work from our side:
These past weeks have been a whirlwind, filled with friendship and deep learning alongside Indigenous women from the Brazilian Amazon and Cerrado. After many days of traveling by flight, car, bus, and even a canoe, my body was tired, and my heart completely full when I finally arrived at the Aldeia Maçaranduba in the Indigenous Territory (T.I.) of Caru. I went there to make a long-held dream come true: to closely collaborate with the Guerreiras da Floresta and to co-organize a women-only gathering in the Brazilian forest.
A few days after my arrival, standing by the Pindaré River, I thought of Elder Aurora, an Indigenous Siona woman I knew in Ecuador many years ago. She once told me the secret to truly greeting a river and hearing its voice: go just after the night’s shiest creatures have eaten and the sun’s just begun to peek out. "That’s when the river talks louder, when you can also hear yourself," she’d say.
As I stood there, in front of this old river wanting to talk, echoes from many other women-only spaces I'd been honored to be a part of came rushing back. My excitement grew thinking about how powerful it has always felt for me to witness Indigenous women claiming their power firsthand, reclaiming their ancestral wisdom and building resilience together. Their understanding, so different from most of us, springs from a deep, living connection to the land and generations of watching and respecting nature. I thought of how ironic it is that so much of this profound knowledge is still brushed off as 'alternative', while it’s literally what's kept humanity here. I reflected on how crucial it is not to be like those who claim to value such knowledge, while their actions tear it down.
“You have many organizations, many governments that have always wanted to speak for us, the Indigenous peoples. How much our ancestors suffered because of those who said they were protecting us” shared Rosilene Guajajara.
At Awana Digital, we want to be proactive about sparking systemic change throughout our work of supporting Indigenous and other frontline communities to protect their land and cultures. We believe in building strong partnerships through close collaboration. That means not just upholding the expertise of people, but also making sure the knowledge and skills we bring are easy to share and truly useful.
Rooted in this commitment, we teamed up with four incredible Guajajara environmental guardians and leaders from the Guerreiras da Floresta: Maisa, Marcilene, Paulinha, and Poliana Guajajara. Together, we co-designed a powerful three-day gathering exclusively for women. The core discussions focused on essential matters to the historical fights of Indigenous people: the Rights of Nature and Territory, the Rights of Women and Indigenous Women, and Climate Change.
We also work closely with many other amazing land-based groups: Associação de Mulheres Indígenas do Maranhão (AMIMA), the Indigenous Associação WIRAZU, MidiaCarú, the Guardiões da Floresta T.I. Caru, and Coordenação de Associações e Povos Indígenas do Maranhão (COAPIMA). This important work is made possible with the generous support of our valued funders, Daughters for Earth and Eurofins, as well as our recent partnership with PAGES Project in collaboration with the Secretary of Agricultural Family of Maranhão (SAF).

Who are the Mosaico Gurupi
The timing of this gathering truly amplified its impact, as after decades of advocacy, the Brazilian government is preparing to make a decision on legally recognizing the Mosaico Gurupi as a protected area, which is central to the territories of the Guerreiras da Floresta and all of the other women participants. For many years, Indigenous communities have tirelessly advocated for their rights and the protection of these lands that cover an area of approximately 46,000 km² across the states of Maranhão and eastern Pará. To understand why this is so significant, it helps to know that a “Mosaico” is a legal environmental term that refers to the connection and management of various conservation units and other protected spaces. It allows for a unified and collaborative approach to land management across a vast territory, strengthening protection efforts.
Legal recognition for the Mosaico Gurupi could considerably boost the power and resources available to Indigenous, Quilombola, and other traditional groups within these lands, creating a strong push for their enduring protection. Giving more agency and resources back to the people who are the true guardians of these lands. Now, more than ever, Indigenous women need to be empowered and informed to lead through what’s coming.
The gathering wasn't just about exchanging wisdom for land defense; it was also a joyous celebration of Indigenous cultures in the Mosaico Gurupi and community. Over 90 women from various Indigenous territories, including T.I. Arariboia, T.I. Krikati, T.I. Pindaré, home to the Guajajaras, Krikatis, Kanelas, and even the recently contacted Awa, shared handicrafts, sang, and danced alongside elders and youth. These moments of cultural exchange and appreciation are essential catalysts for fostering Indigenous belonging and collective strength
“These activities, these spaces for knowledge exchange, are what make us stronger. If we don't gather with others, our strength weakens”, explained Marcilene Guajajara.

Dr. Kari Guajajara, an Indigenous woman lawyer from the Guajajara nation and the Indigenous Territory of Arariboia, led the facilitation. Kari's unique perspective, rooted in her deep cultural understanding and legal expertise, fostered an environment of profound trust and open dialogue. It allowed participants to delve into sensitive yet crucial topics often difficult to address, such as violence against women, and the intricate relationship between territory defense and its impact on women's bodies and survival.
Furthermore, after decades of colonization, racism, assassinations, territorial displacement, violations, and many other struggles Indigenous people have faced, communities have been left with less ability to support and trust each other. This has unfortunately translated into increased violence, both from the outside and the inside, which governments, companies, and organizations have wrongly attributed to Indigenous culture rather than to the impacts of colonialism. This harmful belief has sadly permeated younger generations. Kari's Indigenous background and powerful voice offered a truly unique opportunity to name and challenge this imposed belief. “Violence has never been a part of Indigenous cultures", Kari reaffirmed.

A Journey Forged in Resistance
The path to securing fundamental rights, especially for Indigenous territories, peoples, and women, is rarely a straightforward victory. It's a constant journey of struggle, building knowledge together, shared strength, and tireless advocacy. These rights aren't simply given; they are fought for, generation after generation.
Indigenous cultures and their deep connections to the land have been brutally suppressed, everywhere in the world, including Brazil where institutions claiming to protect Indigenous Peoples often aimed to assimilate them. As expressed by Kari Guajajara:
“The idea was the same. 'We are going to teach them to be more like us.' It was about a violent policy of integration. Our relatives resisted, that is why today's resistance is so important, because we are continuing the processes of territorial defense that our grandparents started.”
Even when the 1988 Brazilian Federal Constitution marked a crucial turning point by recognizing Indigenous Peoples' "original rights" over their lands, this was no gift. It was the result of immense pressure, advocacy, and sacrifice by Indigenous movements who tirelessly championed their cause. Yet, even with this constitutional recognition, the challenges from oppressive policies and outside interests continue. This is clear in recent legal cases like the "Marco Temporal," a legal thesis put forth by the Brazilian agroindustry with the support of the Bolsonaro government. This thesis, among other things, proposed that only Indigenous territories occupied at the time the current constitution was approved could be demarcated. It also allowed the use of Indigenous land without Free, Prior, and Informed Consent, and aimed to revive a very harmful legal system that promotes acculturation.
This threat is a huge setback for Indigenous Peoples not only in Brazil, but also creates a very harmful precedent for Indigenous Peoples worldwide. It's a constant battle to ensure Indigenous rights are put into practice and respected, not just written down on paper, and to discern who truly stands for cultural and territorial protection.

Current territory rights are made possible by the hundreds of Indigenous women and men who fight and resist every single day. This fight isn't just about mapping, monitoring, and stopping illegal activities on their land. It's also in the act of singing traditional music, practicing ancient medicine, and speaking their Indigenous languages. This resilience extends beyond well-known figures who've paved social and political paths; it thrives within the community, among the women, men, and children, and the elders who, for example in the past, without any modern transport or knowledge or Western languages or social clues, walked hundreds of kilometers through the deep forest to raise their voices in the biggest cities of the world. A powerful example is the Acampamento Terra Livre (ATL), the largest indigenous mobilization in Brazil and one of the biggest in the entire world. These actions are far from small or passive; they are the very glue that today holds everything together.
Breaking Silences
For too long, the invaluable contributions of Indigenous women to resistance movements were silenced. Indigenous women have often been seen as non-essential, not prepared enough to lead. Even to this day, their work is underestimated both from outside and within their own territories, where Western ways of thinking have made it harder for women to be fully included.
“My grandmother was not illiterate. It is true that my grandmother couldn't read or write, but she led the protection of the land where my people live now”, Shared Cintia Guajajara.
Yet, Indigenous women have always kept fighting to take their agency back, nurturing the land and keeping their communities and cultures strong, even when men had other, more visible, roles in external negotiations. Their deep connection to the land means that the rights of Indigenous women are profoundly interconnected with the rights of nature itself. To harm one is to harm the other. This enduring fight has always been about pushing back against historical erasure, systemic violence, and the constant undermining of their power.

The gathering created a powerful space for open and honest discussions about the difficult reality of violence against women within communities. The firm declaration that "violence is not cultural" revealed a deep-seated fight for justice. This isn't just about talking; it's about actively dismantling harmful Western narratives and demanding accountability, both from within and from the wider society. It's a relentless push against systems that fail to offer enough protection, fail to provide opportunities and sometimes force impossible choices between safety and cultural ties. As Kari Guajajara said "Is it only violence when they hit our bodies, or is it also violence all the attempts they make to cut off our dreams and opportunities?"
A crucial outcome of the gathering was the collective decision to draft a letter to the Brazilian government. This document, signed by all the women present, was a direct and urgent plea: "Protect Indigenous women now and create laws just for us that recognize the specific circumstances of Indigenous women who deal with violence while having a tie with culture and land." Dr. Kari Guajajara sent the letter to the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples and Ministry of Women.
The lessons learned were about the immense power of collective action and building knowledge among Indigenous women. When they come together, they shake the very ground, powerfully showing how these rights are won through solidarity. Their continued existence is vital for the survival of Indigenous resistance itself.