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Mehida Perez Martínez, a 45-year-old from Cuernavaca, a town near Mexico City, said she was marching for her children and for herself, explaining that she lives in a safe area in Mexico City but is “constantly aware of the men surrounding me”.

“Anyone could be a predator and I can’t trust the police, especially men,” said the mother of three, who joined the Amnesty International contingent of women. Dressed in a lilac tank top and baseball cap, she marched holding a sign that said, “My mom taught me to fight for my rights”.

“Our judicial system was created by men and is run by men. Even if I wanted justice, I probably couldn’t access it. Therefore, I try to prevent violence and protect myself by avoiding places and times that could be dangerous,” said Perez.

Her fear is justified. Impunity for homicide is around 94 percent, confirmed a study by the think-tank Mexico Evalua in 2021. Women have to be wary of police in Mexico; a government study released in 2022 found that the majority of women who are detained by the police have been abused, a third of them sexually.

The march ended in Mexico City’s central square — the Zocalo — that is overlooked by government buildings and the Metropolitan Cathedral. As the square filled with protesters, people sought relief from the scorching 31C-degree (89F-degree) heat in small pockets of shade under tents run by street vendors offering cups of corn, sliced mangos and potato crisps drenched in lime and chili sauce. Sunstroke was the most common complaint among the 112 patients who received medical attention during the march.

Behind heavy-duty metal barriers with overhanging metal lips, hundreds of police lined up, standing far enough back to avoid the near-constant barrage of plastic cups, rubbish, flashbangs and purple flares being lobbed by angry protesters. Taking advantage of any openings in the barriers, women taunted the police, showing their middle fingers or pushing lit cardboard banners through the gaps.

A group of women dressed in black with balaclavas and ski masks, referred to as the “Black Block”, slammed hammers against the metal fence.

“They represent the part of feminism that is angry,” explained Perez. “We tried to have our voices heard, but it did nothing. Yes, we are angry and we have a right to be so.”

“We are tired, angry and mad”, she added.

“¡Ni una más, ni una más! / ¡Ni una asesinada más!”
(“Not one more. Not one more assassination!”)

It was the first march for 10-year-old Emiliana Leyva Alvarez, but she said she hopes to go to more. Wearing pink socks and a purple T-shirt, she noted it was exciting to be there and “attend something that matters to everyone, not just to one person”.

She said she thinks things will change because of the march, “even if it’s just a small thing”.

“What kind of small things might change?” Emiliana was asked.

She paused, then said “The same pay for men and women or that fewer women are killed every day.”