The Bolivian mountaineer who scaled new heights
Nine years ago, Cecilia Llusco was one of 11 Indigenous women who made it to the summit of the 6,088 metre-high Huayna Potosí in Bolivia. They called themselves the cholitas escaladoras (the climbing cholitas) and went on to scale many more peaks in Bolivia and across South America. Their name comes from chola, once a pejorative term for Indigenous Aymara women.
In August, I travelled to Bolivia for a three-day expedition climbing Huayna Potosí with Llusco, 39, who, along with many of her fellow cholitas escaladoras, now works as a guide. She first started working in tourism at the age of eight, alongside her father, a trekking guide.
Llusco takes enormous pride in being an Indigenous woman and always goes up mountains wearing her pollera, a voluminous traditional floral skirt, over layers of petticoats. Watching her ascend an ice wall wearing crampons and a helmet, and holding two pickaxes, while her skirt and petticoats billowed in the wind, was unforgettable.
She and her peers have faced discrimination for being Indigenous women and for daring to reach the tops of multiple mountains. But despite everything, Llusco is full of an infectiously joyful exuberance when out in nature. And her belief in the strength of others, particularly women, is steadfast and reassuring.
Sarah Johnson
The photographer who documented the horrors of Gaza
When the war in Gaza broke out, Motaz Azaiza picked up his camera and headed to the frontline. He spent 107 days documenting the conflict, during which 15 members of his family were killed.
Through his lens, the rest of the world was able to witness the devastation in Gaza. His unedited footage attracted millions of followers on social media.
When I first met Azaiza in February, he had just arrived in Doha after being flown out of Gaza on a military evacuation plane. He was quiet, mentally exhausted and filled with self-doubt – the guilt of leaving his homeland and everyone he loved was palpable.
But he was also resilient and determined. “We all have a responsibility to bear witness to what is happening in Gaza,” he told me.
Since then, Azaiza has become a global advocate for Gaza. He has flown around the world, sharing his first-hand experiences of the war and calling for a ceasefire. When he is not pressuring high-profile ministers, you can find him giving motivational talks to student protesters at Columbia University in New York or taking centre stage at a Massive Attack concert in Bristol.
When we last spoke, Azaiza was finishing a speaking tour of the US, during which he helped raise more than $5m (£4m) for Unrwa, the UN agency for Palestinian refugees. It was inspiring to see him as determined as ever.
“I will only be proud of my achievements when the genocide of my people stops,” he said. “There is no freedom until everyone is free.”
Thaslima Begum
The Ethiopian cyclist who refused to give in to war
Genet Mekonen, 23, captains the Mekelle 70 Enderta women’s cycling team in Tigray, Ethiopia’s northernmost region, which was at the centre of the devastating 2020-22 civil war. Several hundred thousand people are estimated to have died, many from disease and hunger as the government blocked aid, and women were targeted in a campaign of mass rape.
With its members dispersed across Ethiopia, Genet’s team could not compete for nearly three years and almost did not survive the war. Today, however, the women of Mekelle 70 Enderta are back on the road.
When I interviewed her in April, as the team prepared for a tournament in the historic town of Axum, Genet had just returned from competing in the African Games in Accra, Ghana, fulfilling a lifelong ambition.
“Very few people expected cyclists from Tigray to represent Ethiopia in Accra, but we did it,” she said.
Many athletes may feel understandably bitter about having some of their prime years snatched from them by conflict, but Genet is upbeat and relentlessly optimistic.
Combining easy humour with strict athletic discipline, she is a natural leader, even at her young age, and has her sights set on becoming a regular international competitor. “I want to be one of the best and set new records,” she said.
Fred Harter
The mute Rohingya boy who found a way to tell his story
Though he cannot speak or hear, Asom Khan has so much to say. When I arrived at his shelter in a Rohingya refugee camp in Bangladesh, he was quick to dig out his art books so I could see his drawings, to show me the photos he takes with his phone, and to tell me his story through the makeshift sign language he has developed.
There is something about Khan that feels representative of how Rohingya refugees are treated collectively – a million people who are rarely allowed to speak by the authorities.
after newsletter promotion
He also represents their determination to be heard. A picture of Asom crying from hunger after arriving in Bangladesh in 2017, when 700,000 Rohingya people fled from massacres by Myanmar’s military, was one of the most memorable photos of the crisis. Now he takes his own photos, which he shares on Instagram, and gathers his community’s stories.
Photography has allowed Asom to communicate to the world what it is like to live in a refugee camp, where he has now spent almost half of his life.
Kaamil Ahmed
The Iranian lawyer fighting for women
It is difficult to comprehend the strength required to keep going in the face of decades of state harassment, including imprisonment, just for doing your job. But the human rights lawyer Nasrin Sotoudeh has been doing just that, while also supporting others with warmth, humour and steely resolve.
Her determination to stand up for victims of injustice in Iran is resolute. For decades she has fought for justice, defending children on death row, child victims of domestic abuse and prominent activists. She was beaten and arrested after attending the funeral of 16-year-old Armita Geravand bare-headed, in defiance of the hijab rules.
Some question how, as a wife and mother, she could risk imprisonment, after she was sentenced to 38 years and 148 lashes for her human rights work in 2019. But her husband and children’s support is unwavering: “People say life is precious, don’t sacrifice your family life, but human rights and freedom are also valuable and precious.”
Sotoudeh is now on medical leave from prison but has been barred from practising law. Still, she does what she can to help others by acting as a consultant and continues to fight for her beliefs.
Speaking to Sotoudeh by video call earlier this year, what struck me most was her calm demeanour, even as she spoke about returning to prison. She has every right to rage against the regime, yet she remains focused on fighting abuses.
The government has been relentless in its efforts to crush her spirit, but Sotoudeh refuses to give up hope. Even as Iran continues to suppress protests, she has faith that the violent repression of women, and the men who support them, will not last for ever.
Isabel Choat
The sex worker in Ivory Coast risking it all for her family
This summer, I found myself deep in the forests of northern Ivory Coast near the border with Mali and Guinea, talking to dozens of young Nigerian women, many lured there by traffickers promising them good jobs.
One of them was Sandra, 22, who quietly shared the ambition of them all to be independent. Unlike many of her peers, however, she had been born into a wealthy family and had knowingly taken up sex work.
After her father died when she was a teenager, and as is customary in parts of south-east Nigeria, her uncles seized his property and threw out his family.
Sandra was forced to become a breadwinner to help her mother take care of her family. Her pursuit of employment led first into sex work in Nigeria and then Ivory Coast.
As she spoke, her determination to return to her family and give them a semblance of the life that had been snatched from them was evident. Sandra was also insistent that even after paying off the debt of 1m West African CFA francs (£1,300) that her madam claimed she was owed, she would keep working to raise enough money to take back to Nigeria so all her sacrifices would have been worth it.
Her determination to deny herself any comforts indefinitely, and put her dignity and life on the line for her loved ones at such a young age, was as inspiring as it was unsettling.
Eromo Egbejule
