The ghosts of violence dissipated with gestures of brotherhood and cries for justice

Carolina Gomez, Jessica Xantomila and Laura Poy

Newspaper La Jornada
Wednesday, March 9, 2022, p. 8

Nothing stopped them. Not even the warning that it would be one of the most violent marches in recent years. It was not so. They came out en masse, even accompanied by their young children, their babies and even pets. They shouted, wrote on walls, fences and pavement: They keep killing us, violating.

Although feminists have emphasized that International Women’s Day (8M) is not a day of celebration, many of the protesters who walked yesterday to the Zócalo showed anger, but also gender brotherhood with songs, jumps, batucadas and dance , balloons and costumes.

There were also those who left traces with graffiti and with hammer blows against urban furniture, statues, monuments and shops, but above all against the fences that protected the National Palace and the Metropolitan Cathedral, where, as every year, they tried to throw some without success. What they did manage to knock down were lights and a traffic light.

The constant yesterday again was the demand for an end to femicide violence, aggression, sexual harassment and impunity. That is why the collective cry was justice, justice, justice.

This 8M was massive. No one was afraid of covid-19 anymore. From different points of Paseo Reforma, Avenida de la República, Balderas, Insurgentes, Estela de Luz and Zona Rosa, various contingents marched, without the announced logistics, towards the capital’s Zócalo.

We are women, we love each other alive!was one of the many slogans, in a mobilization that also brought together some men and members of the LGBTI+ community.

The contingents began to advance before 2:00 p.m., from various directions, and at 7:00 p.m., the last demonstrators were still entering the esplanade. At 9:00 p.m., some women were still hitting the fences and were repelled with gas and foam from fire extinguishers.

The Zócalo plate was never completely filled, because as soon as some groups entered, others left the place. Unlike other years, there was no pavilion.

Despite this, mothers of victims of femicide and disappearance gathered at the flagpole of the Zócalo, where they spoke of the calvary they have faced to do justice to their daughters.

They denounced that many of the cases of femicide are investigated as suicides, and “we are the families who must investigate and confront the agents of the Public Ministry who tell us: ma’am, you better go home and cry.

Since past noon, groups of young people began to fill the streets, dressed in purple clothes and accessories alluding to the date: t-shirts, hats, bandanas and flowers.

Being alive shouldn’t be a privilege, with skirt or pants, respect me bastard and when I leave home I want to be free, not bravewere some of the phrases with which they made it clear that they live in a world in which being a woman is dangerous, and that in the face of impunity, we must take care of each otherthat’s why it sounded loud, quiet sister, here is your pack.

Due to the fact that most of the urban furniture was protected with walls and fences and the windows of the Metrobús stops had been dismantled, this time there was no major damage during the journey, only graffiti on the metal curtains of various shops, in streets and sculptures, some of which had purple and green scarves placed around their necks.

Later, in front of the Antimonument, there was a burst of joy to the rhythm of the batucada, and there was even a performancewhere dozens of women danced, some bare-chested, to make it clear that they are alive, a privilege, they affirmed, they haven’t had all.

At the Monument to the Revolution, a large contingent left before 2:00 p.m. for the Plaza de la Constitución, led by mothers and feminist groups, who were accompanied by their children.

As they passed, other women dressed in black and with their faces covered, made graffiti on billboards, newsstands and monuments, such as La Puerta 1808, by Manuel Felguérez. Meters later, they staged acts of vandalism. Two young people from the so-called Black Block were injured when a glass ceiling fell on them at one of the Hidalgo Metro entrances.

At the corner of 5 de Mayo and La Palma, some removed the protection from the windows and doors of a bank, which they entered to break windows and damage furniture, an act that was supported by many of the rest of the protesters, to the chorus of: we were all.

Upon arrival at the capital’s Zócalo, at 3:05 p.m., the so-called Black Bloc began to hit the metal fences of the National Palace with hammers and mallets. Police officers who remained behind them responded by activating fire extinguishers, which caused some protesters to report discomfort in the eyes and throat.

Minutes before 7:00 p.m., when the protest lasted almost four hours, dozens of young people knocked down the traffic light located at the corner of Plaza de la Constitución and Pino Suárez, which was thrown against the uniformed men.

They also shot down three lights with which they tried to knock down the fences in front of the National Palace. In addition, they managed to enter a fabric store, where they extracted artificial flowers that they distributed among the attendees.

After more than six hours of hammering (even with the participation of some men) the protest gradually dissolved.

The Zócalo plate was becoming empty, but the walls and sidewalks gave an account of the indignation and suffering of thousands of women, which was reflected in the legend pasted on a wall: mom, I come to shout what they made you shut up.