There are various forms of violence that women and girls experience, but intimate partner violence is, by far, the most common, with one in three women affected globally. And while a common approach to designing prevention programs for intimate partner violence includes targeting men and women in relationships, new evidence shows that the approach may be misguided.

Today, as part of the UN Human Rights Council’s “Universal Periodic Review” process, Burma will be questioned by every country in the world on the nooks and crannies of human rights abuses happening inside its borders

In January 2008, during the violence following Kenya’s disputed elections, someone banged on my door. The man was a friend of my neighbor and, since my neighbor wasn’t home, I thought I might be able to help. But when I opened the door, he forced his way into my house and raped me.

It is clear there are accountability problems within the UN system when it comes to sexual assault. Between campaigns fighting for accountability in cases of rape in the Central African Republic by French peacekeepers and the latest scandal involving a UN contractor in the DRC, the issue of impunity for UN employees is now being discussed within the UN system—and outside of it, too.

I’d been working on a short radio story for the July 30 UN World Day Against Trafficking in Persons when I realized that the fight against human trafficking in my country, Italy, has become a disaster.

For women, the world might feel like it’s slowly becoming worse. Earlier this month, the UN announced that four peacekeepers in the Central African Republic have been accused of raping two women and an underage girl, as well as a 12-year-old girl. Last month, four women were raped and killed in Mexico City. And then there’s Syria, where reports keep emerging of how Islamic State militants justify raping women and children.

“Who Killed Rúben Espinosa?” read headlines throughout Mexico after the brutal murder of five people in Mexico City. On July 31, the victims were found in an apartment the Narvarte neighborhood of Mexico City.

When I met Sophie Otiende, she was running late. I had reached out to her in December 2014 while I was in Nairobi doing research for a film about sex trafficking. Sophie and her boyfriend, Jakob Christensen, are volunteers at the anti-trafficking nonprofit HAART Kenya and had agreed to meet me for dinner. But as time wore on, I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.

A few months ago, an Indian-American Hindu, a Christian Armenian-American, an American Jew, and a Muslim Pakistani-American filmed 22 strangers addressing questions about their experiences regarding gender, race, and wealth. We wanted to produce a website of short videos that explore the concept of “privilege.”

Dirty white gates fronted the detention center on the Italian island of Lampedusa, a tiny speck between Sicily and Tunisia, where 71 women were being held. Beyond the bars, I could just make out laundry hanging from the building in which they were housed—maybe 100 yards away—a yellow scarf, a hot-pink piece of cloth.

For the first time in the history of the Bosnian War Crimes Court, judges included compensation to a wartime rape victim as part of the court’s ruling. On June 24, 2015, Bosiljko Marković and Ostoja Marković were ordered to pay roughly $15,000 to the woman they raped during the war. The court sentenced each man to ten years in prison.

The end of June was hot and dry in Lampedusa, as summer always is. The week I spent on the island of an estimated 5,000-6,000 Italians there was a very separate center of town for a population of 771 people.

Often stories on the “Mediterranean migrant crisis” use shots of the rescue at sea: A rickety boat overfilled with desperate people wait to board some kind of Navy boat. But what happens to them next?

We began 2015 by looking at underreported stories of rape and sexualized violence around the world. Cases involving sexualized violence against women—its aftermath, its consequences—were falling below the public’s radar. Now, six months in, we thought we’d take a look at some of the good things that have happened—the steps forward in the march to end sexualized violence globally.

In India, it is legal to rape your wife. And as of last month, when a government minister explained why he thought the issue can’t be remedied in his country, marital rape is back in the news.

When Congolese President Joseph Kabila tapped 49-year-old Jeanine Mabunda Lioko, a finance executive and a member of the National Assembly of the Democratic Republic of Congo, to be his special representative on sexualized violence in July 2014, UN representatives hailed the appointment as a “new dawn” in the fight to end rape and child recruitment in the country’s 20-year conflict.

Last week, Human Rights Watch released a report on the campaign of rape being waged in Iraq by the Islamic State (ISIS) and called for medical and psychological help for the survivors. The organization interviewed 20 women and girls in the Iraqi town of Dohuk who escaped captivity by the militant group, and also spoke to medical workers who are doing their best to help the survivors.

On Monday, a report from the UN was made public by UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon that highlights sexualized violence in war. The report covers attacks conducted in 2014 and describes violence against women in 19 countries—13 conflict zones, five countries that are recovering from conflict, and one “additional situation of concern” (Nigeria).

In February, the London School of Economics and Political Science announced the launch of a new Center on Women, Peace, and Security at the school. The center, which is scheduled to open in 2016, will focus on the “participation of women in conflict-related processes and on enhancing accountability and ending impunity for rape and sexual violence in war,” according to its website.

In 2011, a Thomson Reuters poll found that Somalia was ranked among the top five most dangerous countries to be a woman. Fewer than three years later, Human Rights Watch concluded that two decades of civil conflict in the country had created a large population of civilians vulnerable to sexualized violence, in a report titled “Here, Rape is Normal.”

When the loudest voices against sexualized violence against women have never caused anyone discomfort, it is safe to say that no one thought that their attitudes on women were being challenged. India's Daughter is the first time that those who knowingly or unknowingly espouse rape culture have been unnerved enough that they feel the need to shoot the messenger.

On February 24, a friend of mine posted an editorial on social media about a bill passed in the Pakistani Senate four days earlier, which punishes individuals who hinder prosecutions in rape cases or stigmatize the survivor. My friend asked: “How was this story not all over the news?”