To Eve: my testimony, a society's reckoning

I write this as a man, a teacher, and a member of a society where our daughters, students, sisters and female colleagues face harassment. I cannot fully understand the fear a woman carries in streets, offices, transport, family gatherings, or under an unsafe gaze. But I know this: the fear is real, the pain is real, and the silence imposed on women is cruel.

When our girls and women step out into the world, they carry more than books, bags, and dreams. They carry caution: which route to take, whom to avoid, when to pretend to be on the phone, when to walk faster, when to stay silent, and when to smile only to escape discomfort. We have trained girls to protect themselves, yet have not taught boys that staring, teasing, blocking someone's way, unwanted messages, misuse of authority and indecent behaviour violate dignity.

At work, a woman arrives with competence, ambition and dignity, yet some reduce her to appearance. Her smile is misread, her silence exploited, her courtesy mistaken for weakness, and her refusal judged as arrogance. Improper remarks are dismissed as jokes, while the woman who speaks is questioned first. Why do we ask her, "Are you sure?" before asking the harasser, "Who gave you the right?"

Women are not unsafe only in streets, markets or offices. Sometimes they are unsafe in family gatherings too, where they should feel protected. There, uncomfortable looks, unwanted closeness, hidden gestures and forced politeness follow them, only for them to be told: stay quiet, he is a relative; do not make an issue; think of family honour. Why is honour tied to a girl's silence and not to the offender's conduct?

As a teacher, I feel pain when female students enter educational institutions with intelligence, hope and dreams, yet sometimes face unsafe behaviour there as well. Schools, colleges and universities should be spaces of learning, freedom, dignity and growth. If a student feels fear or humiliation there, it is not merely her personal problem; it is a moral failure of the educational system.

A teacher's duty is not only to teach a subject, but also to help shape human beings. If classrooms, offices and corridors are not safe and respectful for women, our degrees, syllabi, research and speeches remain incomplete. Knowledge begins with respect for human dignity.

Harassment does not always appear as threats or assault. Sometimes it is a stare, a message, a joke, unnecessary closeness, pressure from a senior or indecency hidden inside family relations. When women fear speaking because they expect blame, the problem is not their sensitivity; it is our longstanding insensitivity.

We have advised daughters enough: do not walk like this, laugh like this, stay out late, speak too much, or be too free. Now we must teach sons modesty in gaze, dignity in language, honesty in authority, and that no means no. A woman is a human being, not a field for anyone's desire.

This piece is not only sympathy for women; it is a mirror for men. We must ask where we stayed silent, laughed at indecent remarks, dismissed complaints, protected offenders, or valued reputation above a woman's dignity. Male silence is not neutrality; it is convenience for the powerful.

To every girl who has faced harassment, I say as a male teacher: it was not your fault. Not your dress, smile, silence, education, job, freedom, or existence. The fault belonged to the one who crossed the line; not to you.

A society does not become civilised by calling women mothers, sisters and daughters. It becomes civilised when it recognises women as human beings. Our daughters are not asking for favour. They are asking for respect, safety, freedom, dignity, and the right to be human.