“Be safe”, I say to my colleagues as I leave the office, getting ready to climb into a cab with a strange man who will have power over me the moment I get into his car.
But what must I do? I need to get home.
I double-check the number plate of the car before I get in, but I still get in anyway, counting every second until I reach my destination, trying not to think about the worst-case scenarios.
He locks the car door, the sound echoing like a prison gate in my ears.
Lord, please let me get home safely and in one piece.
This is the reality for most, if not all women, on a daily basis; whether you’re walking in the street or driving your own car, hoping not to be hijacked or kidnapped.
Every day is a gamble with your life simply because you exist.
A woman’s body is left naked in a field somewhere, murdered.
One woman is already too many, but five is a massacre.
Murdered, why?
For her body? For her money?
For her existence?
Imagine living in a world where every man you meet could be your rapist or murderer.
Where you fear that your husband will turn on you and become abusive.
Where you can’t be alone with a man because you keep wondering; did he just come back from killing or raping someone? Is he a violent man? Am I going to die now?
I can’t help but wonder if men are on a mission to wipe us off the face of the planet.
