“For the #MeToo movement to do the most good, it must include the voices of women and girls across the globe,” says Akilah President Karen Sherman, pictured with women community leaders in South Sudan.

As the shocking and painful revelations of sexual harassment and abuse flood newspapers and airwaves across the nation, and new allegations surface, the sheer depth and breadth of the #MeToo movement came as a surprise to many.

But not to me. I’ve spent more than three decades working in countries where sexual assault, harassment, and violence against women are the norm. Gender-based violence is the most widespread and pernicious of pandemics, outpacing HIV/AIDs, malaria, and opioid addiction combined. One out of three women worldwide have survived sexual or domestic violence.

For the #MeToo movement to do the most good, it must include the voices of women and girls across the globe, even as those voices differ from country to country, woman to woman. Feminism, we know, is not a monolith. Context and culture matter.

Rwanda is a country committed to tackling gender-based violence. It is one of only 52 countries that criminalize marital rape. A police hotline is available to report cases of rape and abuse, and perpetrators receive actual jail sentences. One-stop centers link the police with other ministries to provide coordinated support and services to victims. Still, violence against women there persists. Financial dependence on husbands as well as cultural barriers prevent women from seeking help and reporting cases of abuse.

Support like that is unheard of in South Sudan, which ranks among the worst places in the world to be a woman. Thousands have been terrorized, tortured, and repeatedly raped over decades of civil war. It is a place where food, shelter, and education are considered negotiables for women. Violence against women is endemic and unchallenged. Women and girls are raped as they search for food and firewood, access life-saving services, and seek shelter in the country’s packed refugee camps.

South Sudan ranks among the world’s worst countries to be a women. Many women have created their own support systems, such as teaching agriculture to others.

Talking with a group of self-appointed women leaders in Yei, South Sudan, I learned that most were war widows who had struggled to survive on the paltriest of means and raise children on their own. Almost all of them had been victims of domestic or sexual violence.

“No one thinks about the women,” said Mary, who grew up in Uganda and spoke passable English. She used to teach agriculture to other women until the supplies ran out. “We have no more seeds to plant,” she said. “We used to save, but now it’s too hard.”

Mary was a natural leader, poised and intelligent with a quiet strength. She would have been a successful businesswoman in any other context. Yet circumstances limited her choices — all of their choices. Many of the women had begun to make and sell a local brew to earn a little cash, which was contributing to alcoholism, among men and women, as well as extreme levels of violence. In a vicious cycle, men would steal money from their wives to buy the liquor, drink themselves blind, then go home and beat their wives or stop on the way to rape other women, according to multiple women I interviewed.

Our South Sudanese sisters are not alone. More than 87 percent of Afghan women are reported to have experienced at least one form of physical, sexual, or psychological abuse; at least half of them at home. And in Congo, women suffer daily occurrences of sexual and domestic violence. The American Journal of Public Health estimates that four women are raped every five minutes in Congo. More than two million women have been raped over the country’s protracted war, a number so staggering it defies comprehension.

These stories and statistics confirm a pattern of abuse toward women around the world, but also, how much we have in common: a shared desire — no, right — to be treated with respect, to support and educate our children, to live a life free from violence, abuse, and harassment, in peace and with dignity.

Today, women are taking to the streets, demanding change — from the women’s marches in the U.S. to protests in India over a student’s gang rape and murder to Nigeria’s Bring Back Our Girls campaign. The Welsh government recently launched a #thisisme campaign in response to known violence. Other countries are starting to follow.

How can we align our #MeToo efforts in their various forms around the world? Working with frontline activist groups is one way. Another is to support Everywoman Everywhere, a global coalition that is advancing a treaty to prevent violence against women and girls. The treaty will require governments to intervene and stop gender-based violence, building on the success of similar treaties that have regulated international issues ranging from landmines to tobacco to climate change. Evidence shows that when treaties mandate concrete steps from national governments, the impact is dramatic.

Too many women — whether in California or Congo — are living lives of quiet desperation. Women without voice and choice, without hope. On the eve of International Women’s Day, a day to celebrate female achievements, denounce violence, and advocate for gender equality, it is time to end this pandemic forever. But it will take women and men joining forces around the world to make it happen.

Karen Sherman is President of the Akilah Institute. She is the author of the forthcoming book, “Brick by Brick: What a Year in Rwanda Taught Me About Marriage, Motherhood, and the Gift of Choice.”