Before the math exam, in the school hallway, I found out what happened to Lola, one of my classmates: After leaving her science regularization classes in the evening, she got into a taxi. The next day she turned up in a different part of town. The good news is that at least she turned up…when I saw her, we talked, and she told me that the taxi driver looked her up and down – she had on tight pants— and then after he had assaulted her, the idiot told her it was her fault because her pants made her look so good.

On march 8th, and despite our horrible feeling of helplessness, sadness, and fear, we went together to the feminist march and sang very loudly, with hundreds of other women. We had our eyes blindfolded and our fist raised. We sang: “The oppressive state is patriarchal rape. It wasn’t my fault, no matter what I was wearing or where I was. You are the rapist. You are the rapist.”