What happens when the school girl finds her voice, particularly in an environment that says:
It doesn’t matter what you studied. You’re a girl?
Shout fire! Instead of rape!
As a law student, I found my voice when I confronted the discrimination permeating societal values often backed by customary laws. It was in that moment that I understood that being silent can be just as harmful as the violence that comes with discrimination itself.
In schools across the world, girls face subtle and loud forms of oppression, from jokes that reduce them to objects to systems that ignore their cries.
In the book Fix the System Not the Women, Laura Bates recounted an experience she received from a school girl as the founder of Everyday Sexism Project, which I found appalling:
I can not pick a fight with every other builder on a street corner who tells me, a fourteen year old that I have nice tits. I can not argue with every classmate who tells me ‘rape is just rough sex’ and that ‘it feels good after a while’. I, a schoolgirl, am utterly powerless against people who would objectify me. I have this raging, hot anger inside me.
Schools are meant to teach lessons for the future. They should not encourage boys to believe certain behaviors are acceptable simply because they are male. Otherwise, the likelihood that boys will not recognize their problematic behavior—especially illegal acts—will only increase.
It is saddening, however, that silence is now linked to a graceful aura, an attribute often considered essential for an elegant lady or a girl child. This is, of course, because media and society dictate what a poised girl child should look like.
I’m not saying being loud is the only way to own a voice. Rather, I’m arguing that silence should not be a virtue when it enables harm.
Short notes in my notebook margins became poems. As I engaged in conversations where girls were belittled, I slowly realized that one voice could multiply into many by encouraging other girls to speak up.
But the challenges girls face in schools are deeply rooted. Fear of victim blaming keeps many from speaking to people they should have confided in.
Many school policies lack proper reporting systems, and sometimes the perpetrators are those in authority; male teachers who get distracted just by the girls’ sportswear.
These are not just unfortunate realities. They are systemic barriers that lead to increased dropout rates, mental health struggles, and poor academic performance.
How can a girl excel when she constantly feels unsafe?
Advocacy doesn’t always start with a loudspeaker. It starts with courage; the kind that requires only a pen and paper. It can begin with a diary entry that becomes a blog post or a poem performed in assembly or posted on personal social media. It’s found in school clubs that create safe spaces for conversations that challenge harmful norms.
Girls like me can use social media to share awareness posts or volunteer with NGOs that teach gender rights. We can hold small forums with teachers to help build trust and accountability. And we must encourage boys to join in because ending gender based violence is not just a girls’ fight; it’s a human one.
Using our voices means defending not just ourselves but every girl whose pain was dismissed. It means saying:
I see you. I believe you. And I’m standing with you.
That kind of advocacy leads to peace in our schools, justice in our systems, and a world where education is not a battle for survival.
When we raise our voices, we do not just change stories.
We change systems.
And every girl deserves that.
Written by Comrade Peace.
