When news broke that Sarah Everard’s life had been taken, women across the country mourned. The loss of her life wasn’t felt only on Clapham Common. It was felt here too, in Belfast, by students.

The Scoop’s women contributors write anonymously about Sarah, and what impact she, and the aftermath of her death, has had on them.

The unifying statement of “it could have been any of us” in response to recent events is anything but an empty phrase. On a smaller scale than outright murder, it could be, and has been, almost all of us. In the last week, women have been dragged from one cultural extreme to the next. In only a few days we have been blamed, quieted, our voices narrowed on the same week as International Women’s Day, and, worst of all, expected to exhume our past traumas to validate our very real and ongoing fears. But in my heart, I know the only way forward is for the collective voice of us and our supporters to just keep fighting. There is no other option.

If you asked me when I was nine who my best friends were, and now again at 19, I don’t think the answer you would get would be very different, and the answer would mainly be boys. Through all those years I genuinely thought we’d covered every topic under the sun, and every conversation was no-holds-barred. This week I realised there was one serious omission in all our conversations: “What’s it ACTUALLY like to be a girl?” The answer they got, a description of our normality, genuinely frightened them.

This week I’ve felt frustrated and afraid. Women are exhausted sharing stories they shouldn’t have to while still, nothing changes. Men need to become answerable to and for these stories. If men don’t think that what they hear applies to them, then they need to create a space which does. This means listening to and believing your female friends and talking to your male friends. And though the onus shouldn’t be on women to educate, the reality of this is that any solution needs to be broad and combined. Women aren’t protected in the streets, in our homes, in education or the workplace, not even by the people who are supposed to protect us, so whatever the answer is, it needs to be more pervasive than the issue itself.

Sarah’s disappearance as she walked home in Clapham, is another reminder for women that they are not safe in the streets, that I am not safe. It reminds me that my mum was not wrong in telling me not to walk alone at night-time, even in well-lit public areas. It is why I have and will continue to check in on my friends after they have left to make sure they have made it home safely. It is why when walking alone at night, and sometimes during the day, I will continue to use my phone as a safety net, in the hope that it will keep me safe from any unwanted attention. It makes me question how safe my sisters will be as they grow up and mostly it makes me sad, that as my mother did with and her mother did with her, I have to remind them, not to walk alone at night if they can avoid it. That they can and should call me if they find themselves in that situation. That they should always be aware of their surroundings, because as I learned when three men tried to steal my bag in broad daylight, you never know who is around, or when something might happen.

“Text me when you get home.”

“Put your location on before you leave.”

“Take a picture of the number plate before you get in.”

These are things that as a young woman living in a city by herself hears all the time. It’s normal for me to leave the library before dark, and to lock my car as soon as I get in, to carry my keys like a self-defence weapon. What happened to Sarah only reiterates why I feel that I have to take these precautions when I’m alone. This fear is normal for women, but it shouldn’t be.

While it was heart-breaking to hear, the coverage of Sarah Everard brought hope in an unexpected way. When Green Party Peer Baroness Jones of Moulescoomb suggested a 6pm curfew for men to the House of Lords, I felt like we made progress. After similar proposals in Belfast following a string of attacks on women in October, it was reassuring to see many more people condemn the idea. If curfews for men are out of the question, then maybe it’s time to consider addressing the toxic masculinity which is the true root of these issues. Maybe starting with the police officers who suppressed the socially distant vigils yet allowed football celebrations to go ahead unopposed.

In the moment I heard about Sarah Everards tragedy, I felt a sense of numbness. I was mourning a woman who I have never met or known. Sarah was just walking home after meeting a friend. I couldn’t help myself but to stop and think of the countless times I, too, was just walking home. As a student in a busy city, with cars constantly roaming the roads, walking home never received a second thought, until now. As women, we feel a sense of safety and assurance when carrying tester-size bottles of perfume in our pockets, cap off, holding keys, sharp end up, and texting, “I’m home”. The normalisation of this practice needs to stop. We should not be afraid to walk home. Something needs to be done. Rest in perfect peace Sarah Everard.

OPINION - The Scoop's Women Reflect on Sarah Everard’s Life