This is India.

In 2015, over 34,000 cases of rape were reported to the police.

In 2014, it was estimated that about 92 women are raped every single day, with at least 4 of such cases happening in Delhi.

I didn’t have to trawl the internet for hours to find those numbers. A quick Google search for “rape statistics India” did the job for me in 45 seconds flat.

Do those numbers seem high to you?

And yet, to bastardise Jane Austen’s most famous line, it is a truth universally acknowledged that the numbers quoted above are low.

Which means that many more women are getting raped in this country of ours, than even the authorities know about.

The statistics I’ve posted here refer only to women, but anyone who keeps a steady eye on the news will know that men can be victims of sexual assault too.

The trouble is, if women are hesitant to report sexual assault to the police for fear of being victim-blamed, men are even more so.

Not because they’ll be blamed, but because they’ll be laughed at, or simply not believed.

With all that in mind, chances are, at least a few people that you meet in your life are going to be, or have been, victims of sexual assault.

Perhaps it’s your mother. Perhaps it’s your best friend. Perhaps it’s your teacher. Perhaps that one kid in school who never ever talks. Perhaps it’s your cousin. Perhaps it’s your boyfriend.

Perhaps it’s you.

So why, for the love of every god in every pantheon ever, are we so hell bent to hide our trauma?

“Hide it.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Do you want to destroy our name?”

“Imagine what people will think about you!”

“You’ll never get married if people know.”

“Your brother will never get married if people know.”

“Do you want to be able to show your face or not?”

“People will think you are weak.”

“Or that you were asking for it.”

And so on.

And so forth.

It is unbelievable to me that in a country as rape-ridden as ours, the default reaction to any form of sexual assault is to insist that the poor victim hide all traces of their violation, of their trauma, or their terror and the emotional and psychological consequences of their experience.

At any cost, even if that cost is their long-term good health and mental stability.

It’s a disgrace.

Say it with me now – it is a shame and a disgrace.

People who get beaten up, or robbed, or cheated aren’t expected to keep shut about what happened to them, are they?

Then why are people who have been robbed of their very sense of security and self, expected to pretend it never happened?

I’m calling for change.

I’m calling for disclosure.

I’m calling for truth.

I’m calling for no more shame. No more stigma.

Who’s with me?

 

— Image credit: Successful lady