formerly known as
Womens Liberation Front


Welcome to, formerly known as.Womens Liberation Front.  A website that hopes to draw and keeps your attention for  both the global 21th. century 3rd. feminist revolutution as well and a selection of special feminist artists and writers.

This online magazine will be published evey six weeks and started February 1st. 2019. Thank you for your time and interest.

Gino d'Artali
indept investigative journalist
and radical feminist











                                                                                                            CRYFREEDOM 2019/2020

When one hurts or kills a women
one hurts or kills hummanity and is an antrocitie.
Gino d'Artali
and: My mother (1931-1997) always said to me <Mi figlio, non esistono notizie <vecchie> perche puoi imparare qualcosa da qualsiasi notizia.> Translated: <My son, there is no such thing as so called 'old' news because you can learn something from any news.>
Gianna d'Artali


<The stench of death>
<Canada's indigenous murdered women and girls.>

Between 8 Nov 2021 and 17 Feb 2022 AL Jazeera published a serial  of articles about femicides of Canadian Indigenous women and girls of which each word is so heartbreaking that it takes a lot of courage to read the whole serial. Still I challenge you to do so! I divided it  according to the number of articles and quoted from them ending with a read more URL. All articles were written by Brandi Morin (1 to 10) except the last one (11th.) written by an Al Jazeera team:

1<The stench of death
On Canada's Highway of Tears.>
2<'Snatched away'>

4<A lingering evil>

5<'No one is going to believe you'>
6<'If she was white, she would still be here'>

7<Vancouver rallies for missing, murdered Indigenous women>
8<A letter to Sarah, who was murdered by a serial killer> (Canada)  

9<‘Walking to justice’>
10<Haunting Canada boarding school shot wins World Press Photo>

11<A warrior for Indigenous women and girls.>
12<Canada unveils agreements to compensate Indigenous children.>

New: 18 Aug 2022- Al Jazeera contributor Brandi Morin has won Best Feature Story at the Native American Journalists Association (NAJA) Awards for her story Canada’s 'crying shame': The fields full of children’s bones.


Al Jazeera
By Brandi Morin
24 Apr 2022

Al Jazeera
25 Jan 2022
By Jeff Abbott
<Guatemala: Indigenous women celebrate ruling on sexual violence.>

Women's Media Centre
28 Mar 2022
By Shilu Manandhar
Nepal: <<Question of Honor: Assaulted Girls Strive to Receive Justice.


29 Nov 2021

<<....In 1971, Jean Virginia Sampare, or Ginny as her family called her, was a typical 18-year-old; the second-eldest of six siblings. The shy but strong-willed teenager lived in Gitsegukla, a Gitxsan reserve of about 500 people that sits at the confluence of the Kitseguecla and Skeena rivers - and parallel to Highway 16. On the evening of October 14, 1971, Jean was hanging out with her cousin Alvin near a bridge on Highway 16, just outside Gitsegukla. It was a cool autumn evening, so Alvin rode his bicycle back to his home a few minutes away in the reserve to get his jacket. He told Jean he wouldn’t be long. But when he returned, Jean was gone. She hasn't been seen for over 50 years. Her sister Winnie Sampare told the Vancouver Sun in a 2009 interview, <It was just so strange how she disappeared. Everyone looked and they didn’t find anything.> Jean is one of dozens of women and girls, mostly Indigenous, who have vanished or been found murdered on or near Highway 16, earning it the moniker the Highway of Tears. Her missing person’s case has never been solved and she is not listed among the missing or murdered women on the Highway of Tear’s Project E-Pana, which is the investigative unit of the RCMP in charge of solving the cases of 18 girls and women who disappeared or were found murdered along the Highway of Tears since the late 1950s. She meets most of the criteria required for an unsolved case to be put on the official E-Pana list: she is female and was last seen within a mile of the highway. But foul play must also be confirmed, which police have been unable to do in Jean’s case. Jean’s story and the many others like it were what inspired Cindy Martin, a Gitxsan woman, to become a passionate advocate for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG). For years she participated in annual marches to raise awareness about the issue in Vancouver, where she worked in an Indigenous mentoring programme and as a student advocate with Indigenous youth in the school system. She dreamed of one day opening a counselling centre to help Indigenous families heal from the many consequences of colonialism, including the violence inflicted upon Indigenous women and girls along the Highway of Tears.Then she too went missing.
It was December 2018 - two days before Christmas - when 50-year-old Cindy left her mother’s house in New Hazelton, where she had been living since recently breaking up with her boyfriend. She had been helping her mother, 83-year-old Mae Martin, and older sister Faye prepare for the holidays. <Cindy loved Christmas,> recalls another of her sisters, 58-year-old social worker Sheridan Martin, who has driven an hour and a half from her home in Terrace to a restaurant in Smithers to talk about Cindy. <She’d make handmade wooden gifts, suncatchers and cards,> she says over a cup of coffee.
Cindy was the baby of the family, Sheridan explains as tears form in her eyes. <So many hearts were broken,> she adds. Then she looks down, lifts her hand to her heart and her tears begin to fall. ............
For a time she believed Cindy was still alive, she explains, gripping her no-longer warm mug and swallowing the last few sips of coffee. Maybe she was a victim of kidnapping and sex trafficking and was still out there fighting for her life, she thought. But as more time passed, those hopes began to fade.<I worry she was tortured,> she says, crying. <I don’t believe she’s alive anymore … I have dreams of her in the spirit world. She’s laughing … beautiful.> Sheridan smiles, a flicker of hope that briefly co-exists with her tears. She has lost faith in Canada’s national inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG); its final report with Calls to Justice, released in June 2019, has to date produced no action.
<The inquiry is a joke; it was just lip service. Nobody is going to come help us,” she says, gripping tightly onto the side of the wooden table she is sitting at.
<You know, Cindy was not just another statistic, she was a human being, a breathing, alive human being.> >>
Read the whole article here:

23 Dec 2021
<<A 'lingering evil'
From residential schools to murdered women.

British Columbia, Canada - Fifty-seven-year-old Mary Nikal flops down onto a blue Chesterfield couch. Her scruffy miniature black poodle sits at her feet. Mary is exhausted. She has given countless interviews to the press over the past 30 years, but they still don’t get any easier. Her hair - dyed a warm caramel brown - is tied back in a low ponytail, her bangs - with their strands of grey - frame hazel eyes, similar to those of her little sister, Delphine. Delphine’s pictures are displayed on a nearby table, illuminated by candlelight.
She was 16 years old when she disappeared in 1990 - one of three members of the Nikal family to have vanished; all of them under 20, all of them female. Less than a year before Delphine disappeared, her 15-year-old cousin Cecilia Nikal went missing from Vancouver. A year before that, in 1988, another cousin, 19-year-old Roberta Nikal, disappeared near the city of Surrey in British Columbia. “She wasn’t a runaway,” says Mary of Delphine as rays from the setting sun settle upon the houseplants that line the windows of her mobile home on an acreage near the town of Hazelton. <I was thinking the worst for years … She was either in the river, someone beat her and raped her. Someone overpowered her because she was pretty strong,> she says, forming a fist. Delphine was the youngest of five siblings. Her Dutch father was 49 when he met and married her Wet’suewet’en mother, who was just 17 at the time. But they had a good life, Mary says.The family lived a few kilometres outside of Smithers, on a farm surrounded by snowcapped mountains. They kept pigs, chickens, goats, cows, horses and dogs. Delphine had a deep affection for animals, Mary says, and an attraction to mischief. <One time when Delphine was three, we lost her. We were looking all over and dad found her sitting in the garden eating strawberries. Her mouth was stained red,> Mary chuckles, adding that Delphine’s nickname was ‘baby’. Delphine was exceptionally close to her father who liked to spoil her, says Mary. It was their mother, Judy Nikal, who enforced the rules, handing out chores to the children. Mary attributes her mother’s sternness to the fact she was a residential school survivor.
The notoriously abusive state- and Church-run schools - to which Indigenous parents were forced to send their children under threat of arrest - unleashed the sort of trauma that would be passed on through the generations. Judy attended Lejac residential school. It operated from 1922 to 1976 and was run by the Roman Catholic Church with the aim of forcing Indigenous children to assimilate into settler culture while forcibly removing them from their own culture, communities and families. Abuse of all kinds was rampant, but there was one story, in particular, that came to define Lejac in the minds of many Indigenous people. In 1937, four young boys ran away from the school, but before they could make it home, they froze to death on a nearby lake. <Mom went through a lot of pain and suffering she never dealt with,> says Mary, her eyes distant and filled with tears.
............'If Delphine had blonde hair and blue eyes'. The night she disappeared - June 13, 1990 - she had been hanging out with friends in Smithers and reportedly planned to hitchhike back home to Telkwa, which was 15km (9 miles) away. It was a common thing to do, Mary explains, as public transportation between the small towns and reserves that line Highway 16 was - and still is - limited. But, two days later, Mary got a call from her uncle telling her Delphine never made it home. Her friends had last seen her getting into a vehicle near a gas station in Smithers. Mary, then 26 years old, immediately went to look for her sister. She turned to the Smithers detachment of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) to ask for help but says she didn’t get any. <The cops wouldn’t listen to us; they weren’t very concerned at all. We basically got the doors slammed in our face,> she says, her cheeks turning red with anger.>>
Read the whole article here:

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