Πράγματι, το homicide rate στο El Salvaror θυμόμουν ότι είναι σοκαριστικό και με αρκετή διαφορά από την αμέσως επόμενη χώρα στην κατάταξη, την γειτονική (Ονδούρα).Και μερικά ακόμη γενικά και ειδικά info:While several other countries in the region have relaxed their anti-abortion laws, El Salvador has moved backwards. In 1973, its criminal code permitted the termination of pregnancies in cases of rape, congenital foetal defects or when the mother’s life was at risk. This, though, was superseded by a revised constitution (1998) in which article one stated that human beings come into existence from the moment of conception. As a result, abortion – or miscarriages treated as suspected abortions – can now be regarded as murder, which can carry a 40-year sentence.That does not stop abortions taking place in secret. Citing health ministry figures, Amnesty said that almost 20,000 abortions between 2005 and 2008, but NGOs believe this is an underestimate. Hundreds of women are believed to die as a result of complications. Those who are caught are imprisoned. The health and legal risks of clandestine abortions are felt disproportionately by poor communities.Many women are illiterate and their knowledge of reproduction is often minimal. Very few have access to a lawyer when they are accused. While the rich fly to Miami to have their pregnancies terminated, poorer women can find themselves in court.“Lamentably, there are women who go to hospital and find themselves in jail,” says supreme court justice Doris Rivas Galindo. “This doesn’t happen in private hospitals.”https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/dec/17/el-salvador-anti-abortion-law-premature-birth-miscarriage-attempted-murder__Vásquez is one of 11 children from a family of subsistence farmers in a rural village in western El Salvador. Their dire economic situation forced her to leave school at the age of 10, and move to the capital, San Salvador, at 17. She found work as a domestic servant.Vásquez gave birth to her first child when she was 20. He lived with his grandparents, so Vásquez could continue working. In 2007, according to her sister Cecilia Vásquez de Ramos, 43, she was thrilled to fall pregnant for a second time.“She was so happy she bought toys, nappies and clothes, and asked me to help look after the new baby so she could keep working,” she told the Guardian. “I thought if I could just explain all this to the judge he would see that she wanted the baby, but I never got the chance.”Despite the gravity of the allegations, Vásquez was in court within weeks of her arrest. There, she was denied a fair trial in favour of “express justice”, according to Katia Recinos, a lawyer with the Citizens’ Group. “There’s an absolute criminalization of these women and their families,” Recinos said.Vásquez’s son was just four when she was imprisoned. It costs $10 – the equivalent of two days’ wages – and takes almost two days on public transport to get from the family home to the women’s prison. Vásquez has seen her son, now 12, once a year on average since her detention. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/nov/30/el-salvador-anti-abortion-law-amnesty-internationalαίσχος.
