Meet Watatakalu Yawalapiti, an indigenous leader who fights for women’s rights

Born in Alto Xingu, Watatakalu talks about sexism inside and outside the village and shows the importance of women for the common good

29.02.24

From an Arawak family, Watatakalu Yawalapiti is the daughter of important indigenous leaders from the Alto Xingu, a condition that meant she was also raised to be a leader. Today, she is an international activist. Last year alone, she attended several national and international conferences and was the only one from the Xingu indigenous delegation who attended the Cannes Festival, alongside Raoni Metuktire, leading the voice of women and the Amazon. 

To get where she is, she had to break with sexist rules inside and outside the village. Therefore, she leaves no doubt about her main battle: “There is no point talking about climate change, the future, without listening to women”. We talked to her about her career as a leader, the period of imprisonment, the Xingu women’s movement, sexism and much more. Check out!

Lupa do Bem: Is it common for women to become leaders in indigenous culture? 

Watatakalu Yawalapiti: Both my father, Pirakuman Yawalapiti, and my mother, Iamoni Mehinako, were leaders in their people. And because I was the eldest daughter, this whole issue of representation fell on me. So since I was a child, even though I didn’t understand things, I was in all the spaces my parents wanted me to be, as if I were an adult. My father, especially, was always in the indigenous movement, talking about protecting forests and protecting rights.

And what was this process like in which you became a leader? 

My father wanted me to learn many things, but my mother thought that because I was a woman, I didn’t have to learn, because I could want things that a woman wasn’t supposed to do. That was something that drove me. I started trying to protect myself from some of the rules of our culture that in my view were not right (Watatakalu left a marriage that was arranged for her when she was 15 years old). Also, being the daughter of leaders, I realized that I could speak and be heard in the spaces I was already used to being in.

What spaces are these? 

The meeting of the Indigenous Health Council, for example (an important decision-making space where indigenous and non-indigenous people, in general, health professionals and government representatives participate). When it was said what was good and what was not good for us, indigenous peoples, I saw people saying things that had nothing to do with it. At that moment I felt that I needed to participate in these discussions too. My father was from those spaces, I went along, but he didn’t speak. When I saw a woman from another country speak and the men laughed, everyone lowered their heads, no one wanted to listen, and that bothered me.

How old were you at that time? 

Ah, I was already old, I was about 17 years old.

Was this the first time you spoke in public? 

Yes! And it was very difficult, I was very nervous. Then a guy said: ‘See? Women don’t have to talk! Women have to keep kissing, grating cassava.’ For me, it was painful to hear that, embarrassing! I came home devastated… I remember that at the time I didn’t understand why a nurse went there and hugged me, but she felt that too, right?! Today I no longer think it’s bad because it made me think. I didn’t want to accept that that guy had humiliated me. I was angry with myself because I was shaking (when speaking my opinion in public). I thought: why was I shaking?! The guys didn’t even speak the white language properly and they kept talking about me… So that gave me a push.

Image: reproduction.

You mentioned that your father wanted you to learn many things, but your mother was afraid… 

I had this preparation to be a leader on both sides of my family, both from my father and mother, who are from different peoples, with different cultures. And because I was with our mother most of the time, my presence was next to my grandparents. The teachings I carry today are from that time. I went through many moments when I couldn’t be with my cousins, in some rituals, while everyone was having fun, I had to be inside a hollow as if I were watching things. All this before imprisonment… 

(Incarceration is an important training process for adolescents in Alto Xingu and usually lasts a year or more. In the case of girls, incarceration occurs after their first menstruation. At the end of incarceration, adolescents are considered adults).

What was this period of seclusion like? 

Could you talk a little about that? Imagine a small room, completely covered in straw, with a hammock in the middle, no windows, just a crack for sunlight to come in and for me to see inside. I spent the whole day in that space. I had to wake up before everyone else in the village and sleep only after everyone else went to sleep. I couldn’t sunbathe. I had to take several showers a day, about six or so. There was a place inside to pee, but anything else in the bathroom was only at night and you couldn’t go alone, you always had to be accompanied by your mother, grandmother or aunt. 

During my confinement, I could only have contact with these women and my grandfather, rarely with my father, no one else. I couldn’t see other children, but there were some moments I spent with my cousins. The seclusion is like an indigenous university and for me it was very painful. Because it’s not just learning, but also preparing the body, applying roots, using a scratcher (a utensil made from a dog’s tooth stuck in a gourd cut into a triangle; the teeth scratch the body to stimulate blood circulation and receive substances into the skin, such as medicines). 

My grandfather, my father’s father, was the one who scratched me once a week. He was a very strict man. For him, we couldn’t fail or make mistakes, and every day that I knew there was going to be scratching, I had a fever from early on. I remember one time, I cried a lot and he said that it was nothing compared to the pain that life would make me feel. So the scratcher teaches you how to overcome painful things, life’s challenges.

How many years were you in seclusion? 

I was 11, almost 12 years old when I joined. It is a process that all indigenous people go through, but when they are children of leaders, it is longer. The length of imprisonment depends on each family, it can be one or two years, sometimes up to five. I was in prison for three years, and although it was difficult, it was the best part of my life, because I had full support from my family, and nothing bad happened to me during that period. And when I left there, at almost 15 years old, I was ready to live what life had to give me.

Today you are the coordinator of ATIX Mulher. What is the impact of creating a women’s organization in Xingu? 

First, I need to talk about the Xingu Indigenous Land Association. ATIX was created in 1995 by our parents, with the aim of strengthening the Xingu indigenous struggle. Many were FUNAI employees and worked to monitor the territory at that time. They arrested everyone who invaded the territory, fishermen, loggers… And they told them to create an association, to be able to work better. 

That was in 1995. In 2000, we tried to create a women’s association. But it was a group of women with very different thoughts. Some wanted the association to guarantee women’s rights so that they could be in decision-making spaces. Others, because they wanted to win pots and pans and dresses. And others, so that we would never need men again… but when it was time to go to the first Women’s Assembly, a woman staged a coup and decided to create another association. 

It didn’t work out and we were traumatized. Each one decided to follow their path and, in 2019, after Belo Monte, we started to articulate ourselves again, because there were a lot of people speaking for us. So we created the Women’s Department within ATIX, which coordinates all the work of women in the territory. It is not an exclusive association for women, it is more than that, it is a tool of the women’s movement.

What is the main struggle of the Xingu indigenous women’s movement? 

May women be heard and be in all spaces where men, the leaders of the territory, are. We spent two years articulating the creation of ATIX Mulher so as not to go wrong. The female leaders of the 16 peoples who inhabit the Xingu indigenous territory participate. So we seek support for transportation, fuel, and food. We also guarantee spaces for the Xingu Indigenous Territory Women’s Assembly.

Image: reproduction.

Are the movement’s demands specific to women, or is it a demand for the entire community? How it works? 

We are doing this for women, but it is not just for women, because the projects are for the entire community. The agroforestry project benefits the entire community, flour production, chicken farming… So everything women do is for everyone. But just the fact that it’s a women’s project is a little troubling.

Is there sexism in the village? 

Sexism is very great, we have faced a lot of violence. Many people who say that there is no sexism in indigenous culture… it’s not true. What happens is that before indigenous women were quiet and today they are not. Today we do things with or without their will. I also think it’s important to say that in the past, within our culture, men had to consult women about everything they did, but when non-indigenous culture arrived, that ended. They began to veto our presence with non-indigenous people and stopped consulting us.

And outside the village? How do you perceive sexism? 

Sexism is in all societies. I suffer sexism from all sides, both within the village and from those who come from outside to work with us. We women are treated differently, we are always put last. They say: ‘Let it go, they don’t understand anything’ or ‘she won’t know how to speak’ or ‘I think it’s better not to have a wife, because they will just get in the way’. And it’s hilarious when men are asked if there is sexism in indigenous culture. Of course, they will say no…

How to change this reality? 

Through our children. We can no longer close our eyes and accept that our sons treat our daughters the same way our brothers treat us.

What is your routine like as an activist today? 

Lately, because of ATIX Mulher, I have been staying in the city much more than in the village. So, today I live in Canarana, Mato Grosso and travel around 80% of the year. I’m away from my children and I spend a lot of time in meetings because I need to do this institutional coordination. Sometimes I represent ATIX in some spaces outside the village as well. And I travel a lot in the four regions of our territory, listening to women. All of this is important, but I would like to be with my family more. That’s why when I’m in Canarana or Xingu, I carry my children together, so I don’t spend too much time away. When I travel abroad, I can’t do it anymore, it’s too expensive…

You are an active person on social media. What do you think about the use of technology for the indigenous cause? Could I say, for example, that you are an indigenous influencer?

 I don’t know, I don’t think so. The use of technology for the indigenous cause is interesting, but we need to be careful. There are a lot of people talking nonsense, and saying things that don’t exist. And when we show what actually happens, people think it’s not true, you know?! The Internet, despite being powerful for the cause, can also serve as a tool against indigenous people. The media, for example, gives a lot of talk to people who shouldn’t. I saw a report the other day with some somewhat distant relatives who were attacking the work of the indigenous movement. Then they think that just because it appeared on Globo or Folha de S. Paulo, that statement is right. So, we need to be careful with this, so as not to shoot ourselves in the foot.

In closing, what message would you like to give to men and women? 

There is no point talking about climate change, and the future, without listening to women. We generate lives and we don’t leave our children’s education for later. Women protect the forests, the knowledge of the people… It is women who take care, not just the indigenous women, the others are also all the time taking care of others, producing food, and managing the well-being around them. So, we also need to be in spaces where decision-making takes place.

Watatakalu Yawalapiti is the coordinator of ATIX Mulher and co-founder of the National Articulation of Indigenous Women Warriors of Ancestry – ANMIGA. To find out more, follow social media on Instagram and Facebook

Maira Carvalho
Journalist and Anthropologist, Maíra is responsible for reporting and writing articles for Lupa do Bem.
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