I’m Mumtaz, a university student who knows what it’s like to feel unsafe every time the sun goes down. My journey started a couple of years ago when I enrolled in night classes. It was the only option I had to complete my degree while juggling a day job. But the moment I started attending those classes, I realized the harsh reality of what it meant to walk through the city streets at night.
The area around my university isn’t exactly safe. During the day, it’s bustling with people, students, and professionals rushing to their offices or classes. But as night falls, it transforms. The streets become eerily quiet, with just a few people here and there. But those who do hang around? Drunkards, drug addicts, people who loiter around with no good intentions.
The first few nights, I tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in my stomach as I walked to my bus stop. I told myself I was just being paranoid, that nothing would happen. But every time I passed a group of men, half-drunk and shouting, or saw someone lurking in the shadows, my heart would race. I’d grip my bag tighter, my keys between my fingers, like some kind of makeshift weapon.
There were nights when I’d see someone following me from a distance. Maybe they weren’t, maybe it was all in my head, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. I’d call a friend just to hear a voice on the other end, as if that could protect me.
My parents, of course, didn’t know half of this. How could I tell them? They already worried enough about me attending classes at night. If they knew how unsafe it really was, they’d force me to quit. And I couldn’t quit. I needed this degree.
The worst part wasn’t just the streets. Even the university felt like a ghost town at night. The campus security? Hardly visible. There were times when I’d stay back a bit after class, finishing up assignments in the library, only to realize that everyone had left and I was the last one there. The emptiness of the hallways and the dim lighting would give me chills.
But I wasn’t about to let fear stop me. I wasn’t going to let these circumstances dictate my education, my future. So, I took matters into my own hands. I started carrying pepper spray in my bag and made sure to park as close to the entrance as possible. I found other students in the same classes who were just as worried as me, and we started walking in groups. Strength in numbers, they say.
Eventually, I spoke to the university about the lack of security. To my surprise, they actually listened. More security personnel were stationed near the night class buildings, and they even started offering shuttle services to bus stops and parking lots. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was something.
I think about all the other girls who might be facing the same fears as I did. For some, it might be a daily reality. And that’s why I share my story. It’s not just about getting through it but about making our spaces safer for the women who come after us. We shouldn’t have to brave the night alone.
Today, I’m close to finishing my degree, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I still take precautions, but I don’t let fear run my life anymore. I hope that, one day, girls like me won’t have to worry about these things. Until then, we’ll keep braving the night and carving out safe spaces for ourselves.
Picture source: Pinterest
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