This morning, as I was walking toward the bus station — minding my own business, lost in thought — a man on a motorbike reached out and touched my buttocks. And just like that, he disappeared into traffic, vanishing without a face or a name.
But the harm?
The harm stayed with me.
It’s easy to dismiss these moments as “small” — a fleeting touch, a passing encounter, a shrug-worthy violation. But there is nothing small about being uninvitedly touched. Nothing small about having your body claimed by a stranger for a second of thrill while you are left carrying a lifetime of discomfort, shame, and rage.
“To the man who touched me without consent —
I didn’t see your face, but I won’t forget the feeling.
Not the shock. Not the fury.
Not the cold twist in my gut.
You disappeared in seconds, but the harm lingers.”
That is what street harassment does. It violates not just the skin, but the soul. It strips away your sense of safety. It teaches women and girls that no matter how quietly we walk, how covered we dress, or how early it is in the day — we are never fully safe. We are constantly being policed, preyed on, and then expected to move on as if it’s nothing.
But I’m not moving on in silence.
I’m writing this today because I need to name what happened. I need to say that my body is not public property. I need to say that I didn’t deserve this. I need to say that this is not okay — not for me, not for any woman, anywhere.
So to the man who violated me:
You stole a moment from me, but you didn’t steal my voice.
You didn’t steal my right to speak.
You didn’t steal my fire.
And to every woman who’s ever been touched without consent, who’s ever had to swallow her scream, who’s ever questioned if it was her fault — it wasn’t. It never was.
Let’s stop minimizing these moments. Let’s stop normalizing this culture of harassment. Let’s listen, believe, and protect. Let’s raise boys who do better. Let’s hold men accountable.
Because we deserve better.
Because we are better.
And because the harm lingers — but so does the healing.
And today, this is part of mine.
By Anne Kasyoka
Mosaic Unveiled
