“I have unpacked certain misogynistic slurs in my article”, I very nervously stuttered. Fumbling nervously, I sat in a carefully manicured corner of my dorm room last year. The corner was set up specifically for the zoom panel I was on. In this panel, I was discussing an article I had written about misogyny and feminism in Pakistan.

Due to my anxiety related to the pandemic, I would not leave my room much which gave me time to build my work portfolio. As an aspiring journalist, this meant getting some journalistic work published. 

“Sarah, you can say the words you have talked about”, giggled the zoom panel moderator in hopes of providing me with reassurance and comfort. I was uncomfortable and I hated myself for it. I had written and published an ostensibly daring and bold article unpacking the etymology of a slur, talking about cyberharassment, and womens’ marches. Yet, here I was, unable to talk about what I had written because I was genuinely scared for my life. 

Mazen Dana’s words, “Words and images are a public trust and for this reason, I will continue with my work regardless of the hardships and even if it costs me my life” (Bishara, 2012, p. 3), resonated with me as an aspiring journalist even though I do not report in a conflict zone and I mostly just write in my room, but I am a Pakistani woman. 

In a series of surveys aiming to explore how secure Pakistani journalists, particularly women, The Digital Rights Foundation, Pakistan found out that 78% of the survey respondents had experienced online threats or harassment.

(Image Source: Digital Rights Foundation)

Women journalists in Pakistan experience several threats and instances of sexual harassment simply for doing their job. The emergence of digital journalism has meant that a lot of women journalists have to have an online presence to thrive in the industry. This makes them susceptible to quite a lot of violence. 

For me personally, this got a little overwhelming when an article I wrote about veganism in Pakistan received a lot of backlash. I had not calculated that the topic would receive so much hate and was definitely not mentally prepared to witness it. 

There have been several instances where I have personally talked to women journalists in Pakistan seeking advice. While they say that the threats have been usually empty, sent out by online trolls trying to entertain themselves, and have not really translated into actual violence, the fact that the threats are so normalized is so appalling. 

However, I cherish the advice that the older journalists who I consider my role models have given me. They have taught me to be confident in my convictions while also looking out for my safety by researching what news organizations and editors to work with, how to strategically pitch and structure stories, and how to navigate talking about my work on social media. This is why Mazen and Bishara’s words about solidarity and collaboration are so important to me. Mazen said, “It gives me strength to know that our colleagues around the world are supporting us in the quest for truth against those who seek to stifle it” (p. 2). This is extremely important to me because I know I would not be so confident in this journey if I did not know I was supported by other women who are in very similar positions to me. 

I am so grateful for those women because collectively, we have overcome internalized misogyny and capitalism-bred competitiveness to collectively partake in the production of knowledge and the protection of one another from oppression and harassment.