Because I Am Still Very, Very Afraid. #NoMoreNirbhaya

We cannot BE ‘nirbhay’ – aka fearless – when we feel so unsafe in our own country.

Protestors hold candles during a candle light vigil to mark the first anniversary of the Delhi gang rape, in New Delhi December 16, 2013. (Photo: Reuters)

A set of recent incidents involving gruesome rapes of women across the country has yet again raised several questions about Indian society and judiciary. We at The Quint believe that a rape survivor’s life doesn’t end when she is raped. And that even if our institutions - law, the judiciary, the hospitals - are failing a rape survivor, we as a society need to step up. And keep the fight going. We are publishing this article originally published on 10 December 2015 from The Quint’s archives as part of our #KeepFighting campaign.

When The Quint began to brainstorm its #NoMoreNirbhaya campaign a few weeks ago, we realised pretty quickly that we’d hit a dead end. No, not about the campaign itself – nor its execution. And certainly not about what we wanted to portray.

But about the NAME.

We struggled through possibilities. What about a catchy moniker like #SaveTheBuriLadki? This would be a direct slap to the ridiculous dictates shoved down women’s necks (necklines?) – “don’t eat chowmein, don’t go to Goa, don’t walk on the streets of a city – any city – alone, unmanned, without protection…”

But that was far too narrow. Why give prominence to idiots who’d shot their mouths off?

We then sifted through cases and cases of rape, each more horrifying than the other – of 3-year-old girls and 28-day-old babies. And we realised what we simply wanted to say was this – I am NOT nirbhay.

We may have fought a lot of battles in her name, but it’s time for the holier-than-thou shield of defiance to come off: for the fact is, I am NOT fearless.

A protester lights candles during a candlelight vigil to mark the first anniversary of the Delhi gang rape. (Photo: Reuters)

When I take that cab past midnight, making mock phone calls to my roommate, I am afraid.

When I listen to music, involuntarily allowing my body to twitch and dance and then freezing because men will stare, I am afraid.

When I skip the stocking and wear the short dress, looking determinedly ahead to ignore the leering passerby, I am afraid.

When I laugh too hard and then purse my lips because I do not want to attract unwanted attention, I am afraid.

I am afraid because there are no promised CCTV cameras accorded to me. I am afraid because my stock of pepper spray has run out and I am still a mile from home. I am afraid because the Nirbhaya Fund is a Holy Grail no one’s heard of since.

I am indignant because I remember all this.

Once we realised – and admitted – that we were afraid, it was pretty simple.

A demonstrator shouts slogans while holding a candle during a candlelight vigil to mark the first death anniversary of the Delhi gang rape victim, in New Delhi December 29, 2013. (Photo: Reuters)

Let’s not fall into the trap of lauding ourselves for our spirit, shall we? Women, shrinking from bus stops and covering themselves up in hoodies on December 16 will NOT be the last, fitting image of Nirbhaya.

Let us have #NoMoreNirbhaya

These women have shared their experiences of what makes them feel unsafe in India.

What would YOU like to see change in terms of women’s safety? What makes YOU angry, indignant, determined?

Tell us @TheQuint, using the hashtag #NoMoreNirbhaya and join The Quint’s campaign.