Stories

Over the past 30 years, more than 60 countries and territories have liberalized their abortion laws. Only four have regressed, including the United States. Abortion rights are increasingly becoming recognized as fundamental human rights for millions of people worldwide. The global landscape of abortion rights continues to evolve in 2024, with new legislation and feminist movements fighting for better access. Let's take a trip around the world to see the latest developments.

It wasn’t the group meetings, the testing services or the health facilities that attracted Manny Norman, it was the offer of a free subway card and a bite to eat. A friend who was also a substance use told him about the workshops in a basement at a nearby community centre. Manny focused on the subway card which would be worth a few dollars if he sold it on. “I just wanted something to eat,” he says. “I hadn’t eaten in probably 20 hours. And the idea of getting more drugs without stealing sounded good to me.” Thirteen years later and he is still attending the Safety Counts meetings run by Planned Parenthood’s Project Street Beat, and credits them with helping him rebuild a life shattered by drug abuse. At the time, he explains he was neglecting his young family, stealing from them to buy crack cocaine and alcohol. His wife would call the police or lock him out of the home on an almost daily basis. “I was on crack and alcohol, the drugs that led me to dereliction, that led me to stealing, being unmanageable, not responsible, without a care in the world,” he says. “(I) didn’t want to work. I just wanted to feed my drug addiction.” Starting a new life But when he walked into the Safety Counts meetings, he says now, he realised he was among people who understood his life. “They met me where I was at,” he says. “They could tell I was under the influence. They could tell I was hurting, that I wasn’t doing the right thing and they made me feel no less than and no different. They gave me hope to come back the next week.” At first, he just went with the flow, focusing on the food and the subway card, not taking much notice of the services on offer. But eventually, he realised there were other people in the room he had come out the other side and rebuilt their lives. “We talked about harm reduction,” he says. “I could identify with the stories other people were telling. Lying, cheating, stealing, borrowing money knowing you wouldn’t pay it back.” Detox and rehab followed. He used the facilities of the projects mobile medical unit to get himself tested for Hepatitis C and HIV and has managed to stay clean, even training as an HIV outreach worker, and has rebuilt his family life. “It’s a happy home now,” he says. “My daughter got her father back, my wife got her husband back. Most of all I got myself back, thank God.” Without Project Street Beat he says his life would have continued its downward spiral. He would most likely be in prison today. Instead, he works as a supervisor for a cleaning company. And when he bumps into one of his friends from the old days he knows what to do. “When I walk down the street and see someone I know – someone I took drugs with or drank with – I let them know exactly where the mobile might be at,” he said. “I have cards in my pocket I give out to people and let them know this is the new way.” Watch Project Street Beat in action

A young man stops by a pile of rubbish at the side of the road. He fiddles with an abandoned umbrella, snapping off one of its broken ribs and slipping it into his backpack. Eric Fairchild spots the signs. The HIV prevention specialist greets the man like an old friend. “We got condoms, leaflets, testing right here,” he says standing in front of Planned Parenthood’s mobile medical unit. The man refuses initially, stepping into a nearby grocery store, before returning a few minutes later with his girlfriend to hear about the services on offer. The umbrella rib, says Mr Fairchild later, was a giveaway. It makes a perfect tool for scraping the residue from a substance pipe. Understanding and overcoming Eric has worked for Planned Parenthood for 12 years, using his experience growing up in the Brooklyn neighbourhood of Brownsville to help spot others who are in need of help. “I was part of the streets,” he says. “I was a substance abuser. Never injected, but I smoked, sniffed... stuff of that nature.” He has been clean for 26 years but explains that his experiences help him connect with other users. “The first thing I do when I have hardcore substance abusers sitting in front of me, I first show them identification,” he says.  “I let them know I understand just how they feel. I’ve been there feeling hopeless, helpless, confused about where to turn.” Some occasions might mean he has to use the training and education he has received as an outreach worker. Other times it is a case of using his 60 years’ experience of life in Brooklyn. “That’s my benefit to the programme,” he says. “I’m street savvy as well as educated in the classroom. I have the best of both worlds.” Eric already had an extensive background in community work before joining the project, prompted by a desire to learn more about HIV prevention following the death of a relative and a friend died from the illness. He is often the first point of contact for clients, handing out pamphlets on the street corner, conducting HIV tests and explaining Project Beat Street– and the facilities available on the mobile unit to wary newcomers. From there he can offer advice and guidance on other services, from home care managers to sources of funding for people with HIV and setting up appointments at clinics. He follows up with phone calls and meetings, often at every step of a client’s progress. “I saw when they came in,” he says. “I saw them come in from a struggling situation, uncomfortable with their lifestyle at the time. Going from being an unproductive member of society to taking better care of themselves and being in a healthier situation that they were before. I am always happy to know I was part of that process.” Watch Project Street Beat in action

At a local bar, we meet nine women from Kirundo. They’re all sex workers who became friends through Association Burundaise pour le Bien-Etre Familial's (ABUBEF) peer educator project. Yvonne is 40 and has known that she’s HIV-positive for 22 years. After her diagnosis she was isolated from her friends and stigmatized both in public and at home, where she was even given separate plates to eat from. “I started to get drunk every day,” she says. “I hoped death would take me in my sleep. I didn’t believe in tomorrow. I was lost and lonely. Until I got to the ABUBEF clinic.” ABUBEF has supported her treatment for the past six years. “I take my pill every day and I am living example of having a good life even with a previous death sentence,” Yvonne explains. “But I see that the awareness of HIV, protection and testing provided by ABUBEF is still very small.” Yvonne became a peer educator, speaking in public about HIV awareness, wearing an ABUBEF T-shirt.  The project spread to the wider region, and volunteers were given travel expenses, materials and training, along with condoms for distribution. But funding cuts mean those expenses are no longer available. Yvonne says she’ll carry on in Kirundo even if she can’t travel more widely like she used to. Her friend, 29-year-old Perusi, shares her experience of ABUBEF as a safe space where her privacy will be respected. It often happens, she says, that her clients rape her, and run away, failing to pay. Since sex work is illegal, she says, and there’s no protection from the authorities, and sex workers like her often feel rejected by society.  But at ABUBEF’s clinics, they are welcomed.

Monica has never told anyone about the attack. She was pregnant at the time, already had two teenage sons, and rape is a taboo subject in her community in Burundi. Knowing that her attacker was HIV-positive, and fearing that her husband would accuse her of provocation - or worse still, leave her - she turned to a place she knew would help.   ABUBEF is the Association Burundaise Pour Le Bien-Etre Familial. Their clinic in Kirundo offered Monica HIV counselling and treatment for the duration of her pregnancy.  Above all, ABUBEF offered privacy.  Neither Monica nor her daughter has tested positive for HIV. “They saved the life of me and my child,” Monica says. “I hope they get an award for their psychological and health support for women.” Three years on from the attack, Monica, now 45, raises her children and tends the family farm where she grows beans, cassava, potatoes and rice. She’s proud of her eldest son who’s due to start university this year. She educates her boys against violence, and spreads the word about ABUBEF. Monica speaks to other women to make sure they know where to seek help if they need it. Her attacker still lives in the neighbourhood, and she worries that he’s transmitting HIV. But the ABUBEF clinic that helped Monica is under threat from funding cuts. The possibility that it could close prompted her to tell her story.    “This is a disaster for our community,” she says. “I know how much the clinic needs support from donors, how much they need new equipment and money for new staff. I want people to know that this facility is one of a kind - and without it many people will be lost.”

On Friday afternoon in Municipal Lycee of Nyakabiga, Burundi,  headmistress Chantal Keza is introducing her students to the medical staff from Association Burundaise pour le Bien-Etre Familial (ABUBEF). Peer educators at the school, trained by ABUBEF,  will perform a short drama based around sexual health and will answer questions about contraception methods from students. One of the actresses is peer educator Ammande Berlyne Dushime. Ammande, who is 17 years old is one of three peer educators at the school. Ammande, together with her friends, perform their short drama on the stage based on a young girls quest for information on contraception. It ends on a positive note, with the girl receiving useful and correct information from a peer educator at her school. A story that could be a very real life scenario at her school. Peer programmes that trained Ammande, are under threat of closure due to the Global Gag rule.   Ammande says, “I am afraid what will happen when there will be no more projects like this one. I am ready to go on with work as peer educator, but if there are not going to be regular visits by the medical stuff from the clinic, then we will have no one to seek information and advice from. I am just a teenager, I know so little. Not only I will lose my support, but also I will not be taken serious by my schoolmates. With such important topic like sexual education and contraception, I am not the authority. I can only show the right way to go. And this road leads to ABUBEF.” She says “As peer educator I am responsible for Saturday morning meetings at the clinic. We sing songs, play games, have fun and learn new things about sex education, contraception, HIV protection and others. Visiting the clinic is then very easy, and no student has to be afraid, that showing up at the clinic that treats HIV positive people, will ruin their reputation. Now they know that we can meet there openly, and undercover of these meetings seek for help, information, professional advice and contraception methods” Peer educator classes are a safe and open place for students to openly talk about their sexual health. The Global Gage Rule will force peer educator programmes like this to close due to lack of funding.   Help us bridge the funding gap   Learn more about the Global Gag Rule