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From October 2023 to June 2026, Asia Justice and Rights (AJAR) and Asosiasun Chega Ba Ita (ACbit) provided interim reparative measures to 455 survivors across Timor-Leste. GSF met with several of them to learn more about their journeys.  

Lourdes Sarmento wakes up at 5am every day to prepare snacks to sell at the kiosk in front of her home nestled among the mountains and valleys of Timor-Leste.   

There is no sign of fatigue from the woman who works here from 6am to 9pm every day. She shows us around with pride as two men sit outside, enjoying the cafe area she built with compensation from AJAR and Acbit’s project, which ended in June. She welcomes us outside her home with freshly made coffee and the snacks she prepared to sell for the day. Conversation turns to the reason we are here – interim reparative measures, or Bukae, for Timor-Leste’s survivors of sexual violence.  

Lourdes, who was born of sexual violence, lives with her mother and wider family in the town of Ainaro Vila. Before the project, she says, relations with their neighbours were strained; an issue often faced by survivors due to discrimination and victim-blaming following sexual violence. 

“Our neighbours now understand what we have experienced, and what my mother has been through,” she says, sitting next to her mother, Augusta. Lourdes’ sister, Sargita, is a dinamisadora * we meet later in the day, and travels several hours from Dili to meet survivors in remote areas. 

Their home is backed by a lush, peaceful garden where animals roam freely. Augusta leads us towards a large, new outdoor structure that hosts her kitchen, built with her financial compensation – a welcome relief, she says.  

“The financial compensation didn’t make a huge [material] difference but we feel more relaxed now, it gives us the strength and energy to keep going. We feel lighter,” she adds. 

The sense of a heavy weight off her shoulders also came from connecting with other survivors, according to Augusta, who largely left room for her daughter to speak, but said that getting together “helps us to forget about the past.” 

Lourdes smiles widely as she speaks, in between tending to her own daughter. She turns to the issue of children born of conflict-related sexual violence, who, in Timor-Leste as in other countries, are often particularly marginalised.

“Progammes like this shouldn’t end…labarik futu (children born of war) need access to programmes like these,” she said, adding that the government should also include such children in their aid programmes for veterans.  

“The recognition, at least, would be meaningful.” 

In Suai, on Timor’s southern coast, Etuelina Barreto and her son Felipe sit outside their home in the late afternoon heat. Etuelina was approached by Maria Amaral, a Steering Committee member, dinamisadora and native of Suai, who is also a friend.  

Born of sexual violence, Felipe also received bukae as part of the project. A motorbike mechanic since 2005, he used his compensation to build a garage with his son and cousins, upgrading from his open-air space in the small yard outside his home. Business is now booming, according to Maria.  

“A lot of people came before, but even more come now because I have more space,” Felipe adds as he surveys the large garage that took him a month to build.  

While he shows us around his workspace with pride, he also expresses resentment at the lack of attention paid to people in his situation, a sentiment shared by all the labarik futu we meet across Timor. 

“The government has never shown an interest. They’ve never identified us.”  

Eteulina shows us around the home extension she built with her compensation, allowing her to cook inside and host family for meals. As a survivor, she first told her story to our partner Acbit in 2021.  

“When people came to ask about my story, it brought up all my feelings from the past, but Bukae helped heal some of that harm. I couldn’t possibly do this by myself. Being with my son made sense to me,” she added.

In visits to survivors in different towns and villages, it became clear that the social aspect of the project was the most meaningful for many. Having spaces to connect and come together without judgement, no matter how much time has passed, is still important for survivors.  

Francisca Barboa is in her 70s and lives in a remote area of Mauchiga, a mountainous area. Dinamisadoras lead the team expertly up a steep hill through heavy rain to reach her home, which stands alone. The fields below us are her main form of sustenance and income.  

She used her compensation to build on the foundations of her new home where she now welcomes us. One room is yet to be completed. 

Behind the building is a small shelter where she used to live with her daughter and grandchild.  

“I used to practically live in our kitchen. The smoke would make our eyes water and it made me sad that we had to live like that…Building a house was a dream for me, but it’s not finished yet.” 

She first shared her story during the Truth Commission process in 2001, and heard about the project through Acbit and their dinasmisadoras, who visit often and are involved in a local women’s centre. 

“As a widow, every bukae activity has made he happy because it brings me together with others. I also liked that people came to visit.” 

Memorialising survivors, reuniting families  

Rosa dos Santos was a survivor of sexual violence and passed away in 2015. At her gravesite overlooking the cloud-covered mountains of Misuaga are three of her children, who live a few minutes walk away. They used the Bukae compensation to build a tombstone for their mother, replacing worn stone with marble, adorned with the flag of Timor-Leste and the name of Timorese resistance groups.  

The family had been splintered and fractured by the trauma their mother endured. While Rosa was known to Acbit for many years, some of her children were not found until the Bukae project was underway. As part of the programme, children of deceased survivors are also rights-holders.  

Acbit staff spoke of bringing the family together as part of the project, reuniting siblings that were unaware of each other for many years. In many cases, this is not a simple process. In Baucau, the team managed to reconnect a mother with her child. Not all cases have a happy ending – in Rosa’s family, there is still tension. But for now, things have improved, and they have a quiet, chosen site to mourn their mother.

* Dinamisadoras are community mobilisers in Timor-Leste, themselves survivors of conflict-related sexual violence, who support fellow survivors from explaining their rights to accompanying them through every step of the process.