Two continents, two brutal rapes, two young women humiliated. One twenty-two years old went to the police in Ghaziabad to file a report, someone had been following her. The police didn’t take it seriously; days later she was gang-raped in a car and dumped near Fortis hospital in Noida, hands and legs tied together and a bottled shoved inside her.

Why? Who are these men? Silence.

Days later and too many rapes in between, sixteen-year-old Jada goes to a party. She takes a sip of a drink spiked with toxic misogynistic entitlement and hits the floor. She wakes up the next morning to pictures of her posed, naked, raped, on a floor, unknowing that it would be the scene of a crime repeated every day on every continent, to the universal social language of violence against women—silence. She woke up to hear that a song had been written about her…Remember when art had a conscience and would pause the facade to speak up and out in the language of humanity? This generation doesn’t, because Jada, sixteen years old, woke up to a rap song, a rape song called the Jada pose…Silence.

Why? Who are these men? Silence.

Jada came out, shattered the mental trauma and the anxiety, that society can’t deal with when a young woman—or a middle-aged woman, older woman, melanin-rich-skinned woman, melanin-deficient woman, religious woman, atheist woman, any woman, anywhere woman—gets raped. The press says, “This is a game changer, the victim so young, speaking out courageously…”

Does anyone remember Daisy Coleman? Silence.

Three Part Series:Declaration of War on Rape Culture
Declaration By: Price of Silence Performing Arts Collective
Edited By: Sioux Mahadeo

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