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Women for justice

A Tree for Remembrance, a Tree for the Future

There are stories that take your breath away. Stories for which words are never quite enough, because the suffering they describe is almost impossible to comprehend. For me, this project is one of those stories.

In August 2014, a genocide against the Yazidi religious community took place in the Sinjar Mountains in northern Iraq. It was not the first genocide this community had suffered in its history—but the atrocities committed by the so-called Islamic State (Daesh) at that time rank among the worst crimes of our time.

Men and elderly women were murdered. Boys were abducted and indoctrinated. Hundreds of women and girls were enslaved, sold, and deprived of their freedom. To this day, people are still listed as missing. Entire villages were wiped out, cultural sites destroyed, and even nature was not spared from the violence.

My connection to “Women for Justice” dates back to 2015. At that time, we founded Flamingo e.V. as a network for refugee women and children. Our goal was to provide a platform for dedicated activists so they could act quickly, even if they did not yet have their own organizational structures.

In this way, Flamingo was able to support the courageous women—who initially called themselves the “Platform for Abducted Yazidi Women”—with the organizational structure we had established.

It was here that I met Dr. Leyla Ferman, the founder of the organization. She traveled to Iraq time and again to meet with survivors of captivity and document their accounts.
This documentation is invaluable, as it lays the groundwork for the crimes to one day be addressed through the legal system and for the perpetrators to be held accountable.

In the village of Koço, Najlaa Matto—a woman who was freed from captivity—tells me that all the women and children were abducted by ISIS. And all the men, except for three who survived by sheer luck, were killed. To this day, there is no trace of many of them.

Najlaa takes the stage, tells her story, and advocates for visibility and justice with a quiet yet powerful strength.

The second village, Sîba, also symbolizes the courage and resistance of the people who tried to help others escape—often knowing that they themselves would pay for this effort with their lives.

The women of “Women for Justice” are fighting from Germany with tireless dedication for justice, remembrance, and the reconstruction of the Yazidi regions, and have established the

Projects that, through the planting of memorial trees, preserve stories of violence and resistance, with the aim of preventing those who were murdered and deported from being forgotten. Projects that promote ecological balance and demonstrate a significant act of solidarity, as connecting with and working in nature can help survivors process their trauma.

The planting of memorial trees holds special significance.
Every tree planted commemorates the dead, those who were deported, and those who remain missing to this day. At the same time, it breathes new life into the devastated landscape. For the genocide was not directed solely against people; it also struck at their homes, their culture, and their natural environment.

New life shall grow once more from the devastated earth.

Its roots reach deep into the earth—to the place where stories are preserved. Its branches reach toward the light—to the place where hope begins.

Where devastation once reigned, shade-giving trees shall grow once more.

Where pain remains, hope may take root.

Perhaps that is precisely the greatest response to violence:

that life returns.

A tree for Koço.

A tree for Sîba.

So that memory does not fade.

And so that the future can grow.

In this tradition, the mother’s abdomen is wrapped tightly with the rebozo, symbolically “closing” the openness and vulnerability that followed childbirth. The ritual is often combined with a sweat lodge ceremony (temazcal), offering both physical cleansing and emotional healing.

These rituals are also used for women trying to conceive. A special three-meter-long rebozo, along with a wooden tool, is used in massages that provide physical and emotional support. The cloth, firm in texture, is meant to hold and protect. “A woman who longs for a child but cannot conceive needs support,” says Amparo. In Indigenous medicine, illnesses are often categorized as “hot” or “cold.” The uterus, they say, must always stay warm. A “cold” uterus can lead to painful periods or fertility problems. The cold travels upward—from the feet, legs, and joints—to the womb. Midwives at the school use warming herbs to restore balance. Each midwife has her favorite—Amparo’s is rosemary.

Through a three-part ritual, the woman receives rebozo massages and wraps combined with hot water and herbal infusions of warming plants. These treatments offer protection and healing. In many post-colonial countries, techniques like these are often stripped of their spiritual roots and sold at high prices, making them accessible only to wealthy women. This commercial appropriation is completely against the values of Indigenous midwives and the mission of Amparo’s school.

Traditional medical knowledge is meant to inspire—not to be commodified or used for individual gain. It is grounded in collective Indigenous spirituality and belongs to the community.

The Midwifery School

The guiding philosophy of Amparo’s school is to share this sacred knowledge, not hide it—but also to protect it and pass it on responsibly. The school is free of bureaucratic barriers and open to anyone who feels genuinely called to this work. Alongside mentors, there’s also a network of midwives who regularly visit to teach.

Four generations of students have completed the training so far; the fifth generation, which includes Lita, is nearly finished. In just seven years, over 100 midwives have graduated from the school, carrying with them a deep understanding of traditional birth practices. More than 300 births have been supported at the Casa de Medicina Ixchel, helping to welcome babies into the world naturally and empower mothers in their strength. Beyond professional training, the Casa offers young women and girls free access to traditional Indigenous healthcare—especially those excluded from formal systems.

Amparo and her students continue the work in honor of her mother:

In memory of Aida Araceli Soto Mouzón.

May your knowledge grow like seeds wherever they land. May your name and your wisdom never be forgotten.

Casa medicina : Account Holder Name: Argelia Loredo Terreros
Account Number: 219124977132
Account Type: Checking
ACH Routing Number: 101019644
Swift / BIC: CMFGUS33
Bank Name: Lead Bank