To be a woman is to constantly live in fear
I’m walking down the
aisle. The sun is setting and there are few open stores. But it’s 7pm; it’s not
so late, is it? It’s only an hour past my curfew. I hear footsteps behind me. I
quicken my pace, the footsteps quicken as well. Fear. Anxiety. That’s all I
feel. Scary scenarios in my imagination. A voice calls out, “hey, fine girl” in
a very hoarse voice. I pretend not to hear. I quicken my pace and the voice
calls out even louder, “Hello madam, no be you I dey follow talk?”. I freeze in
my spot and I hear the footsteps even closer. I feel a tap and I gasp as I turn
around. “Take” the owner of the voice, a young man said to me. “Excuse me?” I
manage to say in a squeaky voice. “Madam take abeg. Your
money fall for ground. Abi you no want?” Oh. Oh. I
heave a sigh of relief as I take the hundred naira note from him. I mutter a
thank you and turn around to go. It wasn’t a kidnapper. Or a serial killer. Or
a rapist. My assumptions were wrong after all.
Or were they?
This is the fear we have
to live in as women. Walking down paths alone already screams danger. Random
glances from strangers get our hearts palpitating wildly. We freeze from the
slightest body contact. We have to be alert, we have to constantly be aware. We
have to arm ourselves. Tasers. Pepper spray. Taekwondo lessons. All for
self-defence. From what? From the potential danger awaiting outside.
Let’s talk about anxiety.
The one that grips us when we see a group of men gathered together. How do I
pass by without being catcalled? How do I pass without being “accidentally”
groped?
The extra
self-consciousness. The one that sets in even before you leave your house. Is
my dress too short? Are my pants too tight? No one wants the thirsty gazes. or
the flirtatious remarks.
We take all these
precautions. But for what? Safety? The same one we never really get?
Frankly, we wish it was
better. We hope and pray for the better. And we are certainly pushing for
better. But the reality right now is,
To be a woman is to live
in fear.
It's so sad that this is our collective cross
ReplyDeleteIt is. It really is.
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