Yes, they’ve heard about Lisa’s murder; they have no words. She is the latest female victim of male violence. “Can’t the government do more to prevent this, however hard that may be?” The two research assistants (and friends) who are sitting on a bench in the garden of the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences on Monday, the first day of the introduction to the faculty, are from Czechia and Peru. Nicole Králová is from Prague, has been living in Maastricht for four years, and will start her Master’s in European Studies next week. Ana Lucia Zumarán Valancia is from Lima, has also lived here for four years, and has just finished her Bachelor’s of Global Studies.
Grumpy look
They both live in rooms in the city centre, just a few streets apart. And absolutely, sexual comments, gestures, whistling, being followed, catcalling – they’ve had to deal with all of it. Although it is significantly worse in both their home towns. “It was worse for me in Prague. When I was fifteen, a man showed me his penis. I froze. When you’re younger, you’re more likely to freeze, I think. Now I ‘chase away’ unsavoury individuals with a grumpy look,” says Králová, grinning.
As soon as it gets dark, they hold their keys in their hand (just in case they need to hit someone), and “are ready to run away”, explains Zumarán Valancia. Once, she was unable to find her house keys quickly and a man on the other side of the street asked if he could help. She didn’t trust the situation and was able to slam the door closed just in time.
Scream loudly
In Prague, Králová went to a course in self-defence. “It was mostly about prevention: if you don’t feel safe, try to join a group of women, stand near a mother and child, ask the bus driver for help, they’re allowed to refuse passengers. And if something does happen, hit them once with your keys – hard – start screaming loudly, and run away.”
The two send their friends messages when they leave the house alone, and if it feels unsafe, they call a friend. What’s the most uncomfortable public space? Central station, is their simultaneous response. “You don’t want to be there when it gets dark. There are always strange people around. All the shops are closed at night, as is the information desk, so who could come to your rescue if you need it?” The area around the Wilhelminabrug – “full of coffee shops and dealers” – is also high on the list. As is the Markt. “Not in the bars and cafes, but as soon as you’re outside, it’s creepy.”
“Want sex?”
The biggest problems are drunk male student societies, people from Flanders, and “children on fatbikes. They’ll shout ‘sluts’ or ‘want sex?’ They don’t even speak good English. They’ll shout it in Dutch, so I’m happy that I can’t even understand them properly. I just pretend they’re saying something nice about my hair,” laughs Králová.
One last thing: recently, when a man got very pushy and asked Králová for sex, some male friends escorted her home and even stayed for a while. “Does that happen a lot? They wanted to know if I was always careful. I said yes. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised how true that was. I’m now even careful that nothing is put in my drink. It would be good if people would help each other, if we were all more alert about stuff like this and showed them that we don’t accept it.”
Super safe
On the other side of the Maas, in Randwyck, a group of medical students is sitting in the sun (they would prefer to remain anonymous). Do they feel safe cycling through Maastricht at night? “Super safe,” say two of them. A third one hesitates. She has been spat at and catcalled. “Although nothing has happened since – it was about a year and a half ago – so maybe it’s better now. Or maybe I’m just not out at night as much since I started my residency.” Like the two second years, the other two Master’s students have never had a problem here. “I’m from Rotterdam, it’s so much worse there,” says one. What is it about Maastricht that makes it safer? It’s not as big (so you never have to cycle far), relatively well lit (“I only have to cycle in the dark a short distance”), and relatively well policed (“especially in the area where the nightlife is”).
So are they care-free when they go out? Well, no, not exactly. In fact, now they come to think about it, there is a long list of measures they take. “I always cycle faster at night, I pay more attention, only ever wear one earbud, so that I can hear what’s going on. And I share my location permanently with a few people, so there is always someone who knows where I am,” says one of the Master’s students. One of the second years, who lives in a village near Maastricht, never cycles at night. “I always ask my parents to come pick me up after going out, otherwise I just don’t go.”
“Text me when you get home!”
More tips are shared: sending voice messages, so that it looks like you’re on the phone and so that if something does happen, it will be recorded, keys in your hand, cycling together, and – a chorus of voices – “text me when you get home”. Although that doesn’t actually work at all, says the student from Rotterdam. “I forget about 90 per cent of the time.” There is much nodding in agreement, except from the one who was harassed. “I’m going to start stalking you, I’m going to call and text you until I get an answer.”
Inside, near the entrance to the building at Universiteitssingel 40, Floor Peters, a second-year Psychology student, is sitting at a table. The news about Lisa’s murder has hit her hard, she says. “My friends and I talk about it a lot. It feels so close, that could have been me, or a friend, or my sister.”
Followed
In her friend group, the arrangement is that they call each other if anyone has to walk alone at night, because you’re less alone that way. Personally, she avoids unlit streets and alleyways after dark. “I don’t always feel safe, I look over my shoulder twice, I put on a long jumper or jacket to cover my party outfit when I leave.” Has anything actually ever happened to her? “I did once feel like I was being followed, that I thought, ‘that man happens to be going in the same direction for a very long time’. That was intense.” And the sad thing is, “it has almost been normalised”.
Peter Doorakkers, Cleo Freriks, Riki Janssen