Opinion
Safety first: Creepy cities are energy drains for half of us
Summary
- Consider the inequity of it. What women employees deliver is often a fraction of their capabilities only because so much effort goes into staying alert. Ensuring safe workplaces is just the tip of a larger challenge.
In 2022, I was sent on an assignment to a city that did not have an airport and reaching via train was the most viable way. I was eligible to travel in AC first class and a looming deadline meant that I, solo traveller, ended up by paying little attention to my travel plan. It was a mistake that I will never repeat again.
My three other co-passengers on the 10-hour journey were men, and around 10pm, they decided to retire for the night. One of them latched the door, and now there were three men and a woman in a cubicle with thick glass window panes and a bolted latch that needed a bit of muscle to open. And this is when a panic started creeping up on me, an alarm of sorts that has been ingrained in many of us since we were born.
I requested one of them to keep the door unlocked. Initially, he was puzzled and wondered aloud about the safety of our luggage. I wanted to retort that my luggage, laptop and mobile were the least of my worries, but since there was no argument, I let it be.
The door was kept open. The three slept through the comforting sway of the train, but I was awake all night, staring at the door, with my shoes on in case I needed to dash and phone in my pocket for an emergency call.
Also read: India’s economic emergence will depend on how safe women feel
The next morning, the three men got down and probably went about their day well-slept, while one tired working woman was grateful for an uneventful journey.
This is the adrenaline of anxiety that courses through a working woman’s body while using a relatively plush mode of transport in India. Imagine what the less privileged go through.
The A-game that women bring to the table at their jobs is often a fraction of what they are capable of. And that’s because alertness requires checking behind one’s shoulder, scanning a lift as one enters, ensuring that pepper spray is within reach, walking in pairs if washrooms are at some distance and the women staff at night are gone, checking if the basement car parks are well lit and no one is crouching on the passenger door side, watching oneself at an office party, walking with a slight hunch if one’s dress is a tag tight, keeping the hotel room door wide open when house cleaning or room service is called in… and more.
Our energy gets depleted slowly, gnawingly.
If a working woman’s job profile had a SWOT—Strength, Weakness, Opportunity, Threat—analysis, then calculations of safety during work hours would rank high on at least half those counts.
While India Inc is investing in branding and training exercises to show how diverse and inclusive its workplaces are, basic safety protocols still go amiss.
Women in sales and marketing roles often get company cars or have another colleague tag along with them on work tours, and some hotels have special wings with rooms for single women, but what about safety within office spaces? CCTV cameras deter no one and they come handy, if at all, only after an incident.
I visited an office in New Delhi where the women’s washrooms were across a terrace. The building housed various companies, which meant that the terrace also acted as a refuge of sorts for workmen taking a breather, employees from any floor coming up for a quick smoke or a cuppa.
Also read: Kolkata still has a spine! A first-hand account of ‘Reclaim the Night’ protest over RG Kar doctor’s rape-murder
The cleaning lady stationed in the women’s section left at 6pm. During my second visit to that office, I went across the terrace and was taken aback to find how desolate these washrooms are in later hours. I hurried back, and yes, I could have gone to one of the other floors, but sometimes, just sometimes, we forget to double check our routines. My mistake.
Our offices are filled with people from the rest of society around us. POSH training sessions, which aim to ensure gender sensitivity across workplaces, hardly offer an assurance of safety.
In how many firms are staff on the payrolls of third-party contractors trained on the firm’s guidelines? Do they even know what Vishaka guidelines are?
For many, seeing a woman in an office holding a position of authority is a first and getting used to it can take some men quite some time. That said, threats can come from across hierarchies.
So organizations must double down on training, so that no doubt is left over what is unacceptable and the repercussions of crossing red lines. That men are unaware of what causes discomfort or anxiety among women is no excuse.
The doctor in Kolkata was in what should have been a safe space, her work premises. She represents millions of us with gruelling work schedules who often feel the need for a rest break.
The safety of women needs to be top priority at every workplace. Clutching heavy laptop bags close shouldn’t have to be a standard precaution. While crossing a road, everyone has a standard safety practice. Look right, look left, and then cross. For women, a safety vigil is far more complex—and constant.
Also read: NCW chief Rekha Sharma spars with US-based writer over Jharkhand gang-rape case: ‘India takes safety…’
This July, I had to travel again by train. I was again given a first-class ticket. I refused, went for AC2 and asked for a side upper berth. Like many other women, I have worked to reach a grade where I am eligible for certain perks. But I cannot always claim them. The need for safety trumps all.
