Marielle and Anderson, present! The ongoing and necessary impact of “Powerful Feminism” in Brazil

By Jaqueline B. Ramos (This text was originally written as an essay for the course “Cultural Plurality in Feminist Theory”, Masters Creole, University of Vienna, Summer Semester 2026)

Introduction

“I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own”¹. This phrase by Audre Lorde² was quoted by black 38-year-old Rio de Janeiro Councilor Marielle Franco on March 14, 2018, during her participation in an event at the community space Casa das Petras (Black Women House), located in the city center area. Around two hours later and only a few kilometers away, Marielle and her driver, Anderson Gomes, were brutally shot and killed inside her car. Her assistant, Fernanda, who was sit next to her, was the only survivor.

Beyond the criminal act itself, which stems from a corrupt, oppressive and violent structure deeply embedded in Brazil’s political sphere, the assassination of Marielle and Anderson provoked an unprecedented and very critical response not only from the Brazilian, but also from the international society. Positively amplified by emerging social media resources, Marielle’s strength multiplied, making her presence even more constant in the Brazilian movement for women’s empowerment, especially in discussions on intersectional issues of feminism concerning race, gender, sexuality and class. Fact is that Marielle and Anderson remain present. The pain of mourning has been transformed into action – in Portuguese, there is the expression transformar o luto (grief) em luta (fight). Many who did not know her before her death came to know her afterward. The attempt to eliminate a powerful political figure turned against itself, and fortunately her voice became even stronger and constant.

In this work, I intend to focus primarily on this resonance of Marielle’s voice and on the importance of the echoes and the ongoing impact of the “Powerful Feminism” which she conveyed and continues to convey masterfully. I aim to reflect and put forward my ideas about what can be understood as “Powerful Feminism” in the Brazilian women’s rights movement history; to analyze Marielle’s history and her personal development of turning from a “regular black girl living in a favela in Rio de Janeiro”, supposed not to let her voice out, to a powerful politician who threatened the system to a striking back point; and to explore the relevance of Marielle’s legacy within the current political and social activism context in the country (the Marielle’s Effect).

To this end I used Kia Lilly Caldwell’s article as a starting point for inspiration for reflection and looked for information to provide a foundation for my research and to help me organize my ideas on diverse independent sources as references (mostly Brazilian ones).

“Powerful Feminism”

Before recapping the history of Feminism movement in Brazil, through pointing some names that ought to be remembered due to their contributions and actions in their social-political times (and all of them, undoubtedly, influenced Marielle’s feminist background and plans for action), I would like to post here what I understand to be the “Powerful Feminism”. And I put it in quotation marks intentionally, because I do not rely on any theoretical or conceptual definition of a specific term, but on my own perception, ideas and research insights about Feminism and its ability to encourage critical and open-wide thinking (discomforts leading to deconstructions, which lead to new and innovative ideas, resulting in empowerment).

In my opinion, “Powerful Feminism” is the one which embraces intersectionality on its essence, which is not to be consisted merely as a marker of differences, but as an indicator of common points/correlations worth addressing. In other words, it’s the one that recognizes that women are diverse and experience different kind of oppressions, depending on their race, class, gender, religion, nationality, culture etc. At the same time, this realization is not used as a tool to define fixed labels or to impose group divisions. On the contrary, it consists of a high valuable resource for a “broadening perspective” exercise, for the recognition of the common and of the other one’s struggles and the changing – and empowerment – of yourself through this inclusive and dynamic process. It’s about plurality, about not only one, but several “Feminisms” which interlace and necessarily strengthen one another.

In her book “Feminism for whom?”, the author Daniela Moraes Brum³ highlights the importance of intersectionality in Feminism quoting the ideas on the subject coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw⁴ at the end of the 1980’s, when feminist movements were gaining new momentum. “According to her, ‘discriminatory systems’ intersect or overlap, creating intersections – that is, in Feminism or any other form of activism, it is always necessary to look broadly at the debate being proposed, also observing other oppressions at play, since they directly influence how our society functions and the hierarchical issues to which we are subjected on a daily basis.” (pp. 39-40).

Correlating this concept with the history of oppression in the Brazilian society, Brum appropriately reminds about the racist and classist modus operandi deeply rooted in the country social and economical structure, and the importance of Feminism in facing and tackling this shameful historical scar. “Whenever we speak of oppressions, we cannot forget the history of black people (slavery⁵) in our country, and how the construction of our history continues to affect them to this day. (…) Likewise, we cannot forget the violence perpetrated against indigenous peoples, who have been treated as supporting characters in our history. (…) How, then, can we say that women in our country are socially treated in the same way?” (pp. 42-43). 

At this point it’s possible to associate this whole idea of “Powerful Feminism” with the Black Feminist thoughts and, of course, Marielle. She represented, and her name continues to represent, the essence of Black Feminism – a Feminism that reveals how oppressions based on race, class, and gender are interconnected, and demonstrates that concrete improvements will only come when the racist, patriarchal, and class-based restraints are to be weakened and ultimately dismantled. 

Reflecting the real structures of everyday life, Black Feminism follows the history of women’s emancipation, no matter where they are, serving as a fundamental tool for creating opportunities and equality for black women and for raising awareness about the need to combat the patriarchal and racial logics embedded at the core of our (now global) society’s construction. There was a time when activists were still asked what was more important: the black civil rights movement or the women’s movement. Today, we know that this question makes no sense at all, because what really matters is to understanding the intersections and interconnections between the two movements – and expose them!

Another key point of what I call “Powerful Feminism” is the ability to transport the strength of grassroots activism – with popular participation and a genuine representation of real problems/concrete situations and specific experiences lived by women (their own ontologies, borrowing the general idea of the ontological turn in anthropological studies) – into the institutional and political spheres. In doing so, it expands the agenda and intensifies the public visibility of the “Feminisms”. In practical terms, diverse points of view and arguments shape new projects, programs, and even legislation, providing new forms of protection, support, and resources for women to exercise their agency.

As an example of this idea, I highlight the implementation, exactly 20 years ago, of the Maria da Penha Law⁶ (nº 11.340, from August 7th, 2006), a landmark in Brazilian legislation for the protection of women victims of domestic violence. The law was drafted by a consortium of human rights NGOs and honors the biopharmacist Maria da Penha Maia Fernandes⁷, who was left paraplegic after surviving two murder attempts by her ex-husband in 1983.

After years of impunity in Brazil, her case was submitted to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR/OAS), resulting in the condemnation of the Brazilian State – and the subsequent mobilization and creation of the law. Its innovation lies in the fact that it clearly defines the five types of violence (physical, psychological, sexual, property, and moral), creates urgent protection mechanisms (protective measures), bans these crimes from being punished with light penalties, and authorizes the creation of specialized courts for violence against women.

Brazilian Feminists: work in progress since the 19th century 

Even when the concepts we discuss today about the Feminism were not that clear and far to be theoretically developed, there were Brazilian women who sensed that lots of things were just not right and did what they could with the resources that they had. Feminism in Brazil consolidated in accordance with the waves of the movement that emerged in the 20th century and is expressed today in a plurality of movements (black, indigenous, popular, workers, LGBTQIA+, academic, etc.). But the fact is that there were already voices raising criticisms and advocating for changes since the first decades of the 19th century, when the country was still a very young empire⁸. 

The greatest Brazilian feminist precursor of the movement during this period was Nísia Floresta⁹ (1810 – 1885). Born in northeastern Brazil, Floresta was an educator, translator, and writer who challenged the patriarchal paradigm of her time. During the empire, the central agenda already discussed by the women who did not accept the extremely machista (male chauvinist) rules running at the time – these women were regarded as immoral, even being punished for it sometimes – was mainly access to education and criticism of the slave-owning order. In 1827, on the occasion of the promulgation of the law of October 15th¹⁰, government representatives questioned the level of education that would be appropriate to Brazilian girls (as in male politicians questioning if women would need to learn much more than domestic activities after all). 

According to Nastassja Pugliese, author of the book “Nísia Floresta”¹¹, this debate inspired Floresta to translate Mary Wollstonecraft’s¹² work “Vindication of the Rights of Woman: with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects” into Portuguese in 1832 as Direitos das Mulheres e as Injustiças dos Homens (Rights of Women and Injustices of Men). In addition to widely disseminating the pioneering ideas of the work in various newspapers and booklets, Floresta led the movement to found schools for girls in the country starting in 1838, and over the years broadly published several texts criticizing flawed and restrictive teaching methodologies, using literature and education as tools for emancipation and equality advances arguments.

From the industrialization of the early 20th century onward, working-class women organized and participated in general strikes, and the focus shifted to political (voting, suffrage) and civil rights – Feminism first wave. In 1922, biologist, politician and feminist Bertha Lutz (1894 – 1976)¹³, who studied in Europe and was very influenced by the suffragist movement, founded the Federação Brasileira pelo Progresso Feminino (Brazilian Federation for Women’s Progress). The organization fought for equal rights between men and women, for women’s access to education and to the labor market, and contributed to the conquest of the women’s vote, guaranteed in the 1934 Constitution.

The second wave of feminism took place precisely during the period of military dictatorship (1964–1985), when the country experienced very strong acts of political oppression. Feminist sectors became involved with left-wing activists around issues such as redemocratization, amnesty, human rights, as well as matters related to labor laws, reproductive health, and domestic violence. In the 1970s, autonomous feminist groups and research centers at universities began to emerge, and these debates entered the public sphere with increasing force. This influence was strong enough to contribute to an important achievement in the 1988 Constitution: the elevation of maternity leave to a social right, guaranteeing pregnant women 120 days of leave without loss of employment or salary.

Another characteristic of this period was the emergence of criticism from black intellectuals and activists regarding racism within the movement itself, with denunciations of “white” feminism (meaning the bounded vision of white Western women from former colonial powers conducting the  concept of the movement). Feminists started to make sense of the articulations of race, gender, and class and of the intersectionality ideas presented by Crenshaw and others who developed the critical revisionist perspectives on Feminism that marked this phase of the movement and fueled the consolidation of Black Feminism.

Black feminists Lélia Gonzalez (1935–1994)¹⁴ and Sueli Carneiro (1950)¹⁵ are references in this new phase of feminism in Brazil. An anthropologist and philosopher, Gonzalez participated in numerous forms of political resistance and, in 1978, at the peak of the military dictatorship, she helped found the MNU – Movimento Negro Unificado (Unified Black Movement). In addition, she participated in several feminist and black women’s meetings in Brazil and in other parts of the world, denouncing racial and gender inequalities and the erasure of black women within the discussions. In 1988, she introduced the term “Amefricanity” in the essay “The Political-Cultural Category of Amefricanity”¹⁶, which proposes a reinterpretation of the American continent as a whole, decentralizing the Eurocentric perspective and placing the experiences and heritage of black and indigenous peoples at the center of history.

The philosopher and writer Sueli Carneiro is the founder and current director of Geledés – Institute of Black Women and is considered one of the leading authors of Black Feminism in Brazil. At the institute, she created, in the early 1990s, the only Brazilian program providing guidance in physical and mental health specifically for black women. As a theorist on the subject, in 2011 she published the book “Racism, Sexism and Inequality in Brazil”¹⁷, in which she presents a critical approach to human behavior and discusses the main advances achieved in the country in aiming to overcome racial inequalities, including social indicators, black consciousness, affirmative action quotas, racism in childhood, mandatory teaching of African and Afro-Brazilian History and Culture in public schools, among other topics.

Last but not least, it is very important to highlight the trajectory of Benedita da Silva (1942)¹⁸ as a politician and an active spokesperson, for over four decades now, of the specific interests and rights of black women from less privileged backgrounds in the country. In 1982, Bené, as she is affectionately called by Brazilian people, was the first black woman and favela resident to be elected as a city councilor for Rio de Janeiro. She has always referred to herself as a representative of three minorities at the same time, for being a woman, black, and a favela resident, and is very clear in using her former personal experience (she has been a domestic worker and a camelô¹⁹, in addition to having faced several other complicated situations for being black, poor, and from a favela.) as fuel to fight for her causes. Among them are domestic workers’ rights, reproductive justice (coerced female sterilization), racial discrimination, domestic violence, and the interests of indigenous communities.

Over the years, she has held various local and national public offices, becoming a reference and inspiration for Brazilian black women to face the designated challenges if they want to act as political agents. She still keeps her career active and is currently a Federal Deputy and candidate for the Senate for Rio de Janeiro state, always affiliated with the Workers’ Party (PT – Partido dos Trabalhadores). As Kia Lilly Caldwell properly points out in the article “#MariellePresente: Black Feminism, Political Power, and Violence in Brazil”²⁰, her mere constant presence in the political spaces, traditionally occupied by affluent and privileged white males, questioned the dominant narratives about what was believed to be “the black women’s proper place”, that is domestic servants or sexual objects. “Both Benedita da Silva’s political contributions and the work of black women activists were critical do reshaping the political arena in Brazil since it’s transition to democracy, and to providing a context for Marielle Franco’s emergence as a political figure.” (p. 219)

Marielle and her political power

Not surprisingly, Benedita da Silva was one of the first politicians who openly lamented Marielle’s assassination and at the same time did not hesitate to denounce very clearly and loud that the crime was committed because Marielle gained considerable political power and influence on people; and that this threatened the prevailing system of the country, which lashes out violently out of cowardice. “Marielle was a black woman who made people uncomfortable. She made the elite uncomfortable, she made the masculine world, the politicians, uncomfortable”, Benedita declared in a interview to the BBC Brazil²¹ largely posted just four days after the crime. 

Bené is absolutely right in analyzing and speaking up about the political significance of Marielle’s assassination. As she herself said several times, Marielle had the potential to be a congress representative (state and federal deputy), a senator, and even president of the country. The truth is that her power is so immense that even with her trajectory being tragically cut short, her ideas remains alive, vibrant and productive. For it is a legacy that reflects not only her life story, which in itself is already very rich, but also incorporates inspirations and lessons from several other feminists who produced theory and plans of action resulting in real achievements (all of the ones previously cited included). Some of these women even have a similar history of attempt against their lives for the sake of being female figures who were not afraid to protesting, therefore, caused a significant level of discomfort for those who feed and benefit from the oppressive system.

The rural worker and union and human rights activist Margarida Alves (1933–1983)²² was one of the first powerful female political figures that Marielle heard about when she was still a child, awakening her first interests in social and justice activism. This curious fact from Marielle’s early formative years is recounted by Pâmella Passos, one of Marielle’s close friends and she herself a researcher and human rights activist, in the book “The History of Marielle Franco”. Marielle got to know Alves’ trailblazing work through her aunt Marlene, who knew and spent time with the activist in the countryside of Paraíba, in northeastern Brazil – precisely the region from which Marielle’s family is originated. Marlene would tell Marielle stories about Alves’ fights when the then young girl travelled from Rio to Paraíba during school holidays to visit her grandparents and other relatives.

Alves was one of the first women to preside over a rural workers’ union in Brazil and was also brutally murdered, shot in the face in front of her home in the town of Alagoa Grande. Local landowners ordered the killing after she denounced abuses against rural workers. Any resemblance is no coincidence. Like Marielle, Alves’ legacy remains present and she is a living icon in Brazilian Feminism culture. In her memory, August 12 – the day of her assassination – was designated Brazil’s National Day of Struggle for Human Rights. The case concerning Alves’s murder was also brought before the Inter-American Court of Human Rights²³, which held the Brazilian state responsible for impunity and human-rights violations in 2021.

Parallels and similarities with other feminists are common in Marielle’s trajectory and only demonstrate that her background development is solid and based on concrete experiences sensed from an early age. Until receiving the nearly 47,000 votes that elected her as the fifth most voted councilwoman in Rio de Janeiro in the 2016 elections, Marielle’s path was built on the real experiences of a black girl growing up without privileges in the Maré favela, one of the largest low-income housing complexes in the city²⁴. Like many in Brazil, Marielle’s parents were poor and migrated from the northeast of Brazil to Rio de Janeiro in search of employment and better living conditions. They made part of an intense exodus process which occurred mainly between the 1950s and 1970s, an exodus that portrays the social inequalities which affect the country to this day – exactly the inequalities that Marielle herself protested and fought against.

In her childhood, Marielle learned to take on responsibilities at home and already showed a talent for “explaining things in public” – she used to say she wanted to be a teacher. She did household chores and took care of her younger sister, and even worked at the school where they studied as a way to get a tuition discount. This was the way the family found to ensure the daughters benefited from fair and quality education²⁵, so they would not be limited to the fate of the vast majority of young Brazilian residents of favelas, who are subjugated, end up lacking the opportunity to access good schools, and, consequently, remain subjected to low-paid and precarious jobs.

Marielle’s confrontation with the harsh reality of police violence in the favelas also began when she was very young, in her early teens. From then on, she became more aware of the risks faced by poor people—especially black people—and gained her first insights into this form of injustice and into ways of arguing against it. This cause accompanied her throughout her political life and has even been identified as the main motivation behind her murder.²⁶

Despite the difficulties of being a single mother (Marielle gave birth to her daughter, Luyara, when she was just 19, and raised her with the support of her family) and some unsuccessful attempts in the vestibular (Brazil’s university entrance exam), she never gave up. Finally, in 2002, she succeed and was awarded a full scholarship to study Social Sciences at the Pontifícia Universidade Católica do Rio de Janeiro (PUC-Rio), a prestigious private and elite university in the city. The joy of becoming a university student was accompanied by the difficulty of finding enough money to support herself and to continue her studies, in addition to being exposed to the customs and lifestyle of a higher social class, generating uneasiness. But she persevered and managed to complete her degree. 

From then on, her education and activism truly took off. Engaging more and more with readings, studies, and activism groups in social causes (after graduation she also completed a postgraduate certificate and a master’s degree²⁷), and still experiencing na pele (feeling it in the skin) the constant oppression in the favela (in 2005, she lost a close friend who was a victim of a crossfire during an abrupt police operation), Marielle began to denounce human rights violations, to actively participate in political campaigns, and to lead actions in defense of minorities and against injustices.

Her institutional political career began in 2007, when she became a parliamentary advisor to then-State Deputy Marcelo Freixo, known for launching an investigation committee into the illegal activities of police forces (paramilitary criminal militias). As a result of her engaging work, in 2011, she became the coordinator of the Commission for the Defense of Human Rights and Citizenship of the Legislative Assembly (CDDHC) of Rio de Janeiro. The decision to run for city council came after Marielle witnessed several illegal forced evictions of families in poor areas due to the city’s preparation for the World Cup (2014) and the Olympics (2016). She believed that, through institutional means, she could help in the fight against this and all types of violence driven by political motives. Affiliated with the Socialism and Liberty Party (PSOL), her campaign slogan was “I am because we are!”.

The question “Who killed Marielle?”, which fortunately has now been answered, was incessantly asked by the Brazilian public for years until the assassins were exposed and convicted. While the answers regarding the motive and the perpetrators have already been resolved, an open question that I present for reflection is: And why Anderson? Although there is no certainty, it is believed that Anderson was not the intended target – that the shots were directed at Marielle and her assistant. But the fact is that on that night, he was simply on a work assignment and was fatally shot. His death symbolizes the vulnerability of so many honest workers who become victims of the rampant violence affecting various urban areas in Brazil. A vulnerability which reinforces safety and security concerns faced by low-income communities, a problem which was also denounced by Marielle due to everything she had already witnessed throughout her journey.

Anderson was born in Rio de Janeiro and was 39 years old at the time of the crime²⁸. People described him as a cheerful and friendly man, a Flamengo (football club) fan, a typical carioca (person natural from Rio de Janeiro), who dreamed of having children and building a family. He was married to Ágatha since 2014 and was father of Arthur, who was born with special health conditions and demanded permanent care in the first months of his life. Arthur was one year and 8 months old when Anderson was murdered. He used to accompanied Arthur in all health checks appointments and was very proud of his son’s strength and achievements.

According to his wife, Anderson was working as a freelancer driver with Marielle and other politicians since 2016, after he was unemployed. But this was supposed to be temporary, because he had studied to become an airplane mechanic and would begin his dream job in April that year. Anderson represents the average Brazilian worker, born with no privileges and working hard to provide for his family and to make ends meet. Now he is profoundly missed by his family and friends. But just like Marielle, Anderson is present and his legacy remains a powerful inspiration in the continuing fighting efforts for social justice in Brazil.

The Marielle’s Effect

The hashtag #LuteComoMarielle (Fight like Marielle) is one of the dozens of slogans and trends driven by the sense of outrage sparked by the crime – and by the transformation of that outrage into a force of resistance against the political violence that still affects a large and disadvantaged segment of Brazilian society. This is part of what has come to be known as the “Marielle’s Effect”: the idea that Marielle may be gone, but she has become a seed, a source of inspiration, and the foundation of a “gardening and cultivation process”, which will continue to bear much fruit in the effort to establish active representation for Feminism, especially Black Feminism, in Brazil.

During the brief period of just one year and two months in which she served as a city councillor, Marielle proposed 16 bills, including those she co-sponsored with other councillors. She coordinated the Rio de Janeiro City Council’s Committee for Women’s Rights and organized several significant events, such as the Rolezinho na Câmara – a visit program by people from the city’s low-income communities to the council offices – and the “Women in Politics”, which sought to encourage more women to participate in the upcoming 2018 national elections.

In addition, she held public hearings and carried out numerous educative activities in several regions of the city. She personally gave talks and spoke with children and young people in schools, teaching them, above all, about rights and citizenship. Marielle was not an office-bound, an armchair politician. She understood the importance of being close to the people – and of bringing the people into institutional spaces. Fortunately, the impact of this approach continues to be felt and echoed to this day.

The day after her death, the area around the City Council in central Rio de Janeiro was fully filled with thousands of people who had come to attend her funeral vigil, say goodbye to Marielle and protest against political gender and race violence. Although she was no longer physically present, her voice and message were louder and more powerful than ever. Banners and signs stated phrases such as: “They tried to bury us, but they didn’t know we were seeds” and “That bullet was fired at the people, but the struggle lives on.”

Marielle’s tragic death caused unprecedented public mourning and repercussion, not only in Brazil, but also around the world. News of her assassination became the most widely mentioned topic on social media at the time, being cited more than 3 million times in 54 countries in the days following the crime. The world came to know her face and her purpose, and Marielle, indeed, would not be silenced. Shortly before her seventh-day memorial Mass, her mother, Marinete da Silva, received a phone call from no one other than Pope Francis, who expressed his solidarity with the family’s grief, emphasized the importance of Marielle’s struggle, and invited her to visit the Vatican. In August of that same year, Marinete joined a delegation that delivered a report on threats to democracy and human rights in Brazil to the pontiff and was received by the Pope at St. Martha’s House.

The year 2018 itself was already highly significant in the Marielle’s Effect, and everything happened very quickly. On Marielle’s birthday, July 27, her family announced the creation of the Marielle Franco Institute²⁹, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to inspire, connect, and empower Black women, LGBTQIA+ people, and people from marginalized communities to continue transforming the structures of society for a fairer and more equal world. In August, remembering 150 days without the councilwoman, the Rio de Janeiro City Council approved five bills authored by Marielle in an extraordinary session open to her family and friends.

In that same year, in the first elections following the assassination (October), three black women who had worked with Marielle were elected. Dani Monteiro, Renata Souza, and Mônica Francisco became state deputies for Rio de Janeiro. Erica Malunguinho was elected state deputy for São Paulo, becoming the first black and transgender representative in the state legislature. In the 2020 elections, 761 women candidates committed themselves to the Marielle Franco Agenda, developed by the Institute as a kind of policy platform pledge. Of those candidates, 81 were elected in 54 cities across all regions of the country, including 46 black women. One of them was Erika Hilton, a transgender woman who, after serving as city councilor, was elected federal deputy representing São Paulo. In the 2022 elections, Talíria Petrone, Marielle’s friend and fellow party member, and Áurea Carolina were also elected federal deputies.

Although the numbers remain low when we consider the proportion of representation relative to the number of declared black and transgender Brazilian women, as well as the difficulties that many women – especially black ones – still face during campaigns and while serving in office, the fact is that a very significant increase was observed in the number of black women becoming politically engaged and, consequently, being elected from 2018 on. 

In her article “#Marielle Presente,” Caldwell highlights the underrepresentation of black women’s in Brazilian Electoral Politics and contextualizes recents changes in racial discourses that challenges Brazil’s longstanding image of a non-racist country³⁰. The black vote did not use to be a relevant topic of discussion in the country (even with strong voices as Benedita da Silva). But after Marielle’s case, this definitely shifted, together with the rising numbers of women entrance into politics. “It should also be noted that many female candidates in Rio de Janeiro said that Marielle Franco’s murder inspired them to run for office. (…) The impact of Franco’s death on black women’s political ambitions was widespread and could be felt throughout Brazil. Following Franco’s murder, $10 million (U.S.) dollars flowed into Brazil to support black women seeking to enter electoral politics.” (p. 221). In other words, there is no doubt that Marielle’s death represents a turning point when it comes to black women participation in politics in Brazil.

Beyond politics, the Marielle’s Effect also resonated across many other areas. Marielle inspired – and continues to inspire – artistic works, such as theater productions³¹ and art exhibitions³², as well as cultural expressions³³ and performances. She has also become the subject of academic research at Brazilian and international universities. Here, I highlight the article “Teaching Black History and Feminism: Importance in Political Conjunctures, in Light of Marielle Franco’s Legacy,”³⁴ published this February in the journal Ponta de Lança: Revista Eletrônica de História, Memória & Cultura³⁵.

In this work, researchers Alcione da Silva and Marcos Cesar Neves, from the State University of Maringá (UEM), analyse the extent to which women – especially black women – are underrepresented and even erased from historical narratives in Brazil. They highlight the importance of Black Feminism and Marielle’s activism in surpassing this model, and argue that incorporating the trajectory of figures such as Marielle Franco in History teaching contributes to the deconstruction of these stereotypes and to the appreciation of women’s struggles, especially black women, in the historical and contemporary context. “The inclusion of History education as a tool for understanding these historical and social processes is essential so that future generations recognize and value women’s struggles – especially those of black women – in combating oppression and building a fairer and more equal society. By incorporating Marielle Franco’s legacy into the school curriculum, History education challenges traditional narratives and offers a broader, more inclusive view of Brazil’s political history, thereby promoting a more critical and emancipatory education.” (p. 95)

Conclusion

At the same time that Marielle is unique, she is also just one among the many intelligent and strong women who have come before her and who will come after her—with their stories, frustrations, discomforts, collaborations, and achievements. Different paths which are parts of the same collective construction. This is precisely the beauty and strength of what I call “Powerful Feminism”: a plurality of “Feminisms” built by many hands. It is far from perfect, with no ready-made answers. But it is attentive enough to question, rethink, and reshape itself when necessary.

That is why Marielle will always be present, even though she is no longer here physically. Her impact is ongoing and necessary. As she herself used to say, “nossos passos vêm de longe” (our steps come from far away), so that all women – and especially black, poor, and trans women – do not forget the long history of struggle for justice, respect, and recognition that so many have experienced, as well as the challenges and problems they have faced in order to win small (but significant) victories and achieve progress. “Diversas mas não dispersas” (diverse but not dispersed) was another phrase Marielle repeated constantly, setting the tone for the concept of collectivity that is so important within Feminism.

But why Marielle? In addition to having an extraordinary impact when assuming a leadership role and becoming a spokesperson in defense of social rights that run counter to the economic and political interests of a corrupt and oppressive system, Marielle was a black girl from the favela who, as we say in Portuguese, venceu na vida (made something of herself). She refused to accept the fate normally forced upon the less privileged in Brazilian society. Marielle read, studied, worked, built partnerships, and transformed her knowledge into critical thought and constructive strength. She was black, lesbian, and from a working-class background, but she did not allow herself to be subjugated. This is a major distinction for a black woman living in such an unequal society, and, therefore, makes many people uncomfortable. But it also inspires others to keep going.

As Benedita da Silva stated in the interview with the BBC after the crime, knowing how difficult it is to make progress, it felt as though all black women had been struck by the bullets when Marielle was killed. “Think about it: she was a black woman, from the favela, and a lesbian, fighting for human rights. As people used to say, for someone from the favela, to become somebody in life and fight for what one believes requires an almost supernatural effort. That is the person they executed. It could have been me, or another young idealist.”

References and research sources: 

• Caldwell, Kia Lilly (2020),  #MariellePresente: Black Feminism, Political Power, and Violence in Brazil, Souls, 22:2-4, 213-238.

• Brum, Daniela (2020), Feminismo pra quem? (Ed. Astral Cultural).

• Passos, Pâmela (2025), A História de Marielle Franco (Ed. Astral Cultural).

• Aparecida da Silva, Alcione and Danhoni Neves, Marcos Cesar (2025), Ensino de história e feminismo negro: importância nas conjunturas políticas, à luz do legado de Marielle Franco (Journal Ponta de Lança: Revista Eletrônica de História, Memória & Cultura , Volume/issue: 19, no. 37, pp. 82–99).

Notes:

¹ (1981) Audre Lorde, “The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism”. Keynote presentation at the National Women’s Studies Association Conference, Storrs, Connecticut, USA. https://blackpast.org/african-american-history/1981-audre-lorde-uses-anger-women-responding-racism/.

² Audre Lorde (1934-1992) was a black North-American feminist and activist whose work explored the intersection of race, gender, sexuality and class. She is still a reference in the feminist movement, specially on black feminism. Lorde was very critical towards racism and promoted the idea that feminism should not treat women as a single and uniform category.

³ Feminist activist, author and digital content creator from Rio de Janeiro, Daniele is very popular in Brazil among young people interested in Feminism. She is known for creating and administering the ‘Feminiismo Popular’ page on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/feminiismo).

⁴ Known as the woman who invented intersectionality, North-American civil rights and critical race theory advocate Kimberlé Crenshaw (https://www.law.columbia.edu/faculty/kimberle-w-crenshaw) developed and launched the idea that overlapping social identities—such as race, gender, and class— create unique modes of discrimination and systemic disadvantage, discussing how this intersects with law and institutional power. 

⁵ Putting the issue of slavery in Brazil into a brief context: there were almost 400 years of enslaved labor of African men and women, counting about 5 million people trafficked to the country. With the Golden Law (Lei Áurea) in 1888, slavery was finally abolished. Theoretically it ceased to exist, but the people, who throughout their lives were violated in the most diverse ways, found themselves lost, with nowhere to go. The freedom they had achieved was not accompanied by employment, money, housing, or any other means of support and subsistence. The formation of the favelas, for instance, is one of the effects of this process of lack of planning and assistance. This stigma of starting a new life while carrying countless prejudices is sensed by the Brazilian black community to this day.

⁶ https://www.cnj.jus.br/programas-e-acoes/violencia-contra-a-mulher/sobre-a-lei-maria-da-penha/

⁷ Today she is one of the main leaders of the Maria da Penha Institute (IMP – https://www.institutomariadapenha.org.br/), which she founded with the goal of raising awareness and combating domestic violence.

⁸ Brazil declared independence from the Kingdom of Portugal in 1822. Recognition by Portugal and other countries occurred only between the years of 1824 and 1826.

⁹ https://catedrahistoriadasmulheres.com/nisia-floresta/

¹⁰ The first general law on primary education in Brazil. Known as the law that ordered the creation of schools in all cities and towns, it raised debates because established much more limiting and bounded rules for the education of girls. Even being the reflect of the patriarchal culture at the time, it was controversial.

¹¹ 2023, https://doi.org/10.1017/9781009127219

¹² English philosopher and one of the pioneers of modern Feminism (18th and 19th centuries).

¹³ https://verfassungsblog.de/bertha-maria-julia-lutz/

¹⁴ https://www.blogs.unicamp.br/mulheresnafilosofia/lelia-gonzalez/ 

¹⁵ https://www.geledes.org.br/sueli-carneiro/

¹⁶ Originally published in Portuguese as A categoria político-cultural de amefricanidade, in the Brazilian humanities journal Tempo Brasileiro (1988, pp. 69–82).

¹⁷ Carneiro, Sueli. Racismo, sexismo e desigualdade no Brasil. São Paulo: Selo Negro, 2011.

¹⁸ https://www.camara.leg.br/deputados/73701

¹⁹Itinerant street vendors who sell low-value goods in a improvised stall in sidewalks and public spaces. This informal kind of work is common in Brazilian big cities and most of the time are the only way for some people to make a living.

²⁰ https://doi.org/10.1080/10999949.2022.2030151

²¹ https://noticias.uol.com.br/ultimas-noticias/bbc/2018/03/18/marielle-tinha-potencial-para-ser-deputada-senadora-presidente-da-republica-diz-benedita-da-silva-1-vereadora-do-rio-negra-e-da-favela.htm

²² https://g1.globo.com/pb/paraiba/noticia/2021/08/12/morte-de-margarida-maria-alves-38-anos-depois-filho-abandona-desejo-de-vinganca-e-busca-manter-vivo-o-legado-da-mae.ghtml

²³ https://oas.org/en/iachr/decisions/2020/BR_12.332_EN.PDF

²⁴ https://www.museumare.org/sobreamare

²⁵ There is a historical and structural quality disparity between free public education and private education systems in Brazil, at the primary and secondary levels.

²⁶ After years of a criminal investigation conducted corruptly by members of Rio de Janeiro’s police force and politicians who were involved in and complicit in the crime, those responsible were finally identified, and the suspects began to stand trial and be imprisoned in 2024. Justice concluded that the murder was motivated by land disputes and militia activity in Rio de Janeiro’s West Zone, which Marielle was strongly denouncing at the time. The killers/executors were former police officers Ronnie Lessa and Élcio de Queiroz, who were convicted in October 2024 and have been serving their sentences in prison ever since. The alleged masterminds were the Brazão brothers—Domingos and Chiquinho—who held several political positions in the city and were members of criminal organizations linked to militias, together with one of their advisers, Robson Fonseca. Two police officers were also convicted for monitoring Marielle’s routine as part of the criminal plan and for diverting the investigation: Rivaldo Barbosa and Ronald Pereira. They were tried and convicted in February 2026 and are being held in custody. (Source: Brazilian newspapers, August 2026)

²⁷ Always interested in learning more, Marielle also completed a postgraduate certificate in Social Responsibility and the Third Sector at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ) and a Master’s degree in Public Administration at the Fluminense Federal University (UFF), the latter during a period when she already had a significant role in the Legislative Assembly.

²⁸ https://www.mprj.mp.br/conheca-o-mprj/memorial-vidas-marcadas/eixo-5/anderson-gomes

²⁹ https://www.institutomariellefranco.org/

³⁰ “We are a mix-raced country, therefore there is no racism in Brazil”. This is usually the official narrative marketed to Brazilian society.  But is it true?! For sure, this is a fallacy.

³¹ https://confrariadoimpossivel.com/espetaculo-marielle-presente/

³² https://www.instagram.com/p/DV4J44tFvom/?img_index=7

³³ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_WwaNNIziQ

³⁴ https://periodicos.ufs.br/pontadelanca/article/view/20960// DOI: 10.61895/pl.v19i37.20960

³⁵ https://periodicos.ufs.br/pontadelanca