Some Kind of Pugly

#MeToo

Goodness, has it really been a month since I last posted in here? 

I’ve been so caught up with putting things together for the #SaveKeluargaIskandar campaign that I haven’t had time to even blink. My days and nights were consumed with getting the website ready, putting the finishing touches on the final plan, managing the social media channels, etc., etc., that time just whizzed past me and before I know it, I’m a hundred years old.

Well, at least that’s how I feel these days. And probably look, too. I am exhausted beyond belief. I can’t wait for this campaign to be over so that I can get at least some of my life back.

Anyway, I digress.

Today I want to talk about the #MeToo hashtag that has been making the rounds lately, thanks to that infamous Hollywood pig who has recently fallen from Tinseltown’s grace, Harvey Weinstein. 

Sexual misconduct, particularly towards the fairer sex, has been around for as long as mankind has been walking on earth. Almost all women go through it at some point in their lives.

I have never been sexually assaulted before (touch wood) but I have been inappropriately touched in the past. The first incident happened when I was just eleven years old. There was this man who worked at the grocery store behind my house; I never liked him as he always gave me the creeps. One day, I wanted to buy some Maggi Mee but couldn’t find any. He was the only one around, so reluctantly, I had to ask for his help. He brought me to the back shelves and fetched a packet for me, but when I wanted to take it from him, he kept pulling it out of my reach like he wanted something from me first before he gave it to me. Before I knew it, he grabbed my crotch. I was stunned. I just stood there, frozen with fear. He was much bigger and taller than me. I didn’t really understand what was happening, what I knew was that I was really scared that he might do more next, so I quickly grabbed the packet of instant noodles from his hands and dashed out to pay for it.

Fortunately, I was having my period at that time, so there was a thick layer of sanitary pad covering my lady bits, but I vowed never to go to that shop alone again from then on. I was angry – at him for daring to touch me without my consent, at myself for letting it happen – but at the same time I was also ashamed about it, so much so that I didn’t tell anyone about it, not a soul, not even my parents. 

A few weeks later, a friend who lived in our neighbourhood told me that the same man had grabbed her cousin’s breast in the shop, which led to him being sacked when the girl told her parents about it.

Looking back, I wish I had done the same. I wish I had told my parents about the incident, and maybe another girl wouldn’t have to go through the same thing I did. I wish I was braver, and less self-conscious about it. But hey, I was just a kid. I didn’t know better. 

The second incident happened at a Bon Jovi concert in Stadium Merdeka. I was doing my first year in MSMKL, Cheras. I was enjoying myself when I felt a pair of hands grabbing my waist from behind. The hands then moved to my shoulders before hugging me. I thought it was one of my male friends so I just let him be. It wasn’t until I caught a friend’s eye who was standing next to me – she had this horrified look on her face as she looked at the guy behind me – that I realised what was happening. I was too scared to turn around, so I just yanked his hands off me. He whispered sorry in my ear before leaving me alone. I never saw his face. 

The third incident happened in a KTM Komuter. I think I blogged about this before. The train was packed when I got in so I had to stand. A man stood close behind me and rubbed himself against my back, so I stood on his toes with my heels, making sure to dig in real good. He yelled and threw curses at me as he limped away and got off the train. I hope I managed to crush his toes, or at least make them bleed.

I saw in Twitter that some men, and even women, blame Weinstein’s victims for not speaking up about it sooner, or lodging a complaint against him. But in reality, it’s really not as simple as that. Weinstein was one of the most powerful figures in Hollywood, and most of the time, where power is involved, the situation gets a whole lot more complicated and the stakes get higher for the victims. 

To put it simply, when such things happen, more often than not, the ones who suffer the most are the victims, especially in cases of sexual assault. Even if they manage to put the perpetrators behind bars, they are the ones who have to live with the fear, the trauma and the social stigma for the rest of their lives. The experience stays with them long after the deed is done. 

I guess we need to go back to basics if we want a better world for our children. I believe the solution to most problems in this world starts at home. Educate our children to treat everyone with respect, as sexual abuse can happen to and be done by both genders. If we don’t have anything valuable to give to the world, at least leave better children behind. As one Dipesh Tank puts it succinctly in Humans of Bombay:

“ … All men everywhere are looked at in a certain light, because of the few hundreds who create the chaos — I wanted to try and restore that balance. I have tremendous respect for all women, and it started at home — my mother taught me well… I didn’t respect anyone as much as her. And maybe that’s the message we should send out — raise better boys at home, and the world will know fewer disrespectful men.”