“As a woman, your body is not seen by the law,” noted a former prisoner[1] to EIPR when asked about how she coped with her monthly period while incarcerated. “Your body isn’t seen- that is, until you become pregnant.”

Specifically, the former prisoner was referencing the Minister of Interior Decree 468/2017 on the treatment and living conditions of prisoners (which amended the prior Minister of Interior Decree 691/1998), which does not acknowledge any special treatment for the special needs of women’s bodies until their third month of pregnancy in terms of distributing special meals to accommodate their additional dietary needs.

The irony is that the menstrual cycle that precedes pregnancy –and is an integral and regular aspect of women’s health—is completely absent from the legal perspective of women prisoners who are incarcerated in the 11 women’s general prisons in Egypt. .[2] This campaign is an effort to push against the fact that women’s bodily needs are not recognized by the law until they are reproductive.

Open-ended interviews with five former female prisoners (2 criminal, 3 political prisoners)[3] in Qanater and Damanhur prisons highlighted how the absence of their bodily needs in the law plays out in their everyday lives in economic and health-related terms—both of which are detailed below.

Accordingly, this campaign calls on the prison authorities to provide cotton-based sanitary pads to female prisoners free of charge. In doing so, the campaign also seeks to destigmatize menstruation and present sanitary products as a basic bodily/health need for women.  This campaign is a gesture towards seeing women (and trans men and any other non-gender conforming people who may have period needs) and their bodies more fully; it is a step towards making room for a wider spectrum of bodies in our legal system, beyond that of the heterosexual man.

Economic Burden of Period Needs

All of the interviewed former prisoners commented on having to rely on visitors to bring them sanitary pads ahead of time to use during their periods. “But not everyone gets visits,” a former Qanater prisoner[4] iterated a unanimous statement followed by an acknowledgement of the socioeconomic disparity between prisoners, with prisoners who come from a more disadvantaged economic class (whether among political prisoners but more typically among criminal prisoners)n being less likely to have family members or social networks who can afford to visit and provide for them. The former prisoner added:

Many criminal prisoners who work informally in prison—for example by cleaning, washing laundry, or selling handmade items to other prisoners—can barely rely on this work to access food let alone sanitary pads. So we are accustomed to them coming to borrow from us. But this is an unnecessarily demeaning and difficult thing to have to do. It should be every woman’s right to have this integral thing that is essential to her bodily functioning without having to beg other prisoners for it.

There is also the option of buying sanitary pads from the prison canteen; however, this option creates even greater economic barriers for people who are most vulnerable in terms of socioeconomic status since the pads are sold at inflated prices. A former prisoner who spent time both in Qanater and Damanhur women’s prison expounded[5]: “When I was at Damanhur I remember the pads sold inside being at least 50% more expensive than the price outside of prison; in Qanater, I remember the prices being inflated even more, maybe even two-fold.”  (See the recent EIPR report, “For Sale in the Prison Canteen” for a more detailed documentation of economic exploitation through inflated canteen prices). [6]

In addition to accessing pads at your own personal cost—if you can afford to— a former Qanater women’s prisoner noted the economic cost of equipping and cleaning bathrooms is also forced onto the prisoners and dependent on social class and financial capability. “ The prison provides you with a white gown and a scarf. Everything else is on you: white undergarments, underwear, disinfectant cleaners…”[7]  Another former prisoner from Qanater noted how prisoners also pay for bathroom maintenance: “We fix the toilet the shower, and purchase a trash can- either we have someone buy the materials from outside the prison or we pay the prison’s plumber to bring items with him.” [8]

Health Risks

Because so many prisoners rely on receiving sanitary pads during visits (or borrowing them from other prisoners), a former prisoner at Damanhur[9] expressed  how this may lead to prisoners deciding to wear pads for longer periods than they should:  “If you become worried that your pads will run out before the next visit, or if you gave out most of them to prisoners who asked for them.”  Former prisoners also spoke of having to wear over soaked pads while going to and from court or an external hospital in the prison transport vehicle: “The prison transport vehicle is in itself, completely inhumane for a woman on her period. It’s terrible. From the metal interior you have to sit on, to the extreme shaking of the vehicle...it’s not comfortable at all...and in a trip that lasts 2 hours each way (to and from court for example). And when you get to the prosecutor, you cannot always use the bathroom. Also, when you’re going to the Kasr al-Ainy hospital, for example, the trip is usually about three hours each way. So on days like these, it’s normal to spend the entire day wearing the same pad.” [10] Wearing a damp pad for long periods (more than 6 hours, or less depending on the flow) places women at risk for skin rashes, urinary tract infections, and vaginal infections.

This recommendation cannot be separated from calls to improve structural determinants of health within prison facilities—from  access to clean water, available and clean bathrooms, and sunlight. These conditions vary from one prison to another. In Damanhur for example, a former prisoner spoke of the poor water quality and limited availability of it: “The water has a strong stench, and would cause skin issues…and at times, it would only be running for two hours the whole day. So during that window, there’s always this rush to use the bathroom or change your pad while the water is running.” In addition to the limited water’s availability, the limited access to bathrooms at Damanhur also led to women adjusting/compromising their pad changing schedule to the prison’s conditions. “In Damanhur the prisoner: bathroom ratio was large and so, you can’t always get up and change your pad if you need to. It’s not that simple, and you find yourself waiting longer to avoid the hassle.”

At the same time that inadequate access to healthy sanitary pads, clean water, and clean bathrooms increase women’s’ risk of vaginal infections and rashes, former prisoners spoke of resulting health conditions not being taken seriously by prison medical personnel. “If I were to tell the guard, I need to go to the doctor because I was itching down there, she would probably consider that absurd and retort with a ‘well, we all itch’ type of comment” a former prisoner at Damanhur explained, “so just to go to the hospital is an issue in itself, because the medical personnel deals with prisoners’ health concerns as if they are using them as pretext to rebel, and are thus vicious and aggressive in their treatment, so many prisoners prefer to just wait things out instead of putting themselves through that.” In short, the push to ensure cotton-based sanitary pad availability to all women prisoners cannot be separated from calls for addressing wider structural health determinants and conditions.[12]

Legal Analysis  

The Minister of Interior Decree 468/2017 on the treatment and living conditions of prisoners (which amended the prior Minister of Interior Decree 691/1998), stipulates special treatment for the special needs of women’s’ bodies once they reach their third month of pregnancy in terms of distributing special meals to accommodate their additional dietary needs.

However, the decree should have incorporated wider aspects of women’s health and bodily needs. This absence should be addressed through a new Minister of Interior decree that stipulates for the disbursing of female sanitary pads to last an average period length of 7 days, on a monthly basis.

Such a legal intervention push against the fact that women’s bodily needs are not incorporated into the law until they are reproductive and refuses to accept that women’s products for basic bodily cycles are considered a luxury rather than necessary needs, just like food and clothing.

 In doing so it, seeks to work towards the principles outlined by the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Right (Comment No. 14 on Article 12 ) which uphold a notion of health determinants that include basic needs such as the right to: “food and nutrition, housing, access to safe and potable water and adequate sanitation… and a healthy environment” (Paragraph 4).[13]

References:

[1] EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s prison from June 2014 – September 2015.

[2] The 11 general prisons designated for women are: Damanhur, Mansoura, Zagazig, Port Said, Qena, Sohag, Minya, Tanta, Shebeen el-Kom, Banha, and Qanater Womens’ Prisons. Note: This number only includes general prisons designated for women and excludes other places of detention where women are incarcerated such as police stations, security directorates, military and central prisons.  

[3] Though the category of political detention no longer exists in the older sense which prevailed when detention decisions could be made by administrative officials (the Ministry of Interior) according to section 1 of article 3 of Egypt’s emergency laws (which gave the Egyptian president authority to arrest, detain, and search indviduals and places without being restricted by the measures of the Criminal Justice Procedure law), the label of political imprisonment still exists and is related to prisoners who are arrested on the basis of political charges and implicated in cass  as members of opposing political organizations.

[4] EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s Prison from May 2015 - August 2016 and November- December 2017; and Damanhur from May - September 2014, May 2015- May 2016, and January 2018.

[5] ibid

[6] Egyptian Intiative for Personal Rights (July 2018). For Sale in the Prison Canteen: Dispossession and Poverty Inducement at ‘Aqrab Prison. Retrieved online.   

[7] EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s prison from June 2014 – September 2015.

[8] EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s Prison from December 2015- June 2016.

[9]  EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s Prison from May 2015 - August 2016 and November- December 2017; and Damanhur from May - September 2014, May 2015- May 2016, and January 2018.

[10] EIPR interview with a former prisoner at Qanater Women’s Prison from December 2015- June 2016.

[11] ibid

[12] Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights (June 2014). Health in Egyptian Prisons: A field study on the determinants of health behind bars.

[13] Adopted at the Twenty-second Session of the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR), General Comment No. 14: The Right to the Highest Attainable Standard of Health (Art. 12 of the Covenant), 11 August 2000, E/C.12/2000/4, available at: https://www.refworld.org/docid/4538838d0.html [accessed 3 February 2019]