In 2010 I attended an event about self protection at my University with about 200 females and 150 males, involving safety at University, drink spiking and how to look after your friends.
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The presenter, whose name now escapes me, asked this question of the men;
“Raise your hand if you have felt unsafe at any point during the last week.”
Maybe about 15 hands went up, of all the men present.
Then he asked the same question of the women; “Ladies, how many of you have felt unsafe at any time during the last week?”
Nearly all of the girls hands shot up, while the men looked around shocked at the revelation.
On Easter Sunday the 26-year-old high school teacher from Leeton, Stephanie Scott went missing, less than a week before her wedding day.
The nation waited with bated breath for word of her whereabouts.
Five days later her burnt body was found metres from a track in Cocoparra National Park, 70km north-west of Leeton.
The news, gut-wrenching, shocked a mourning nation, today grief is now mixed with anger as the calls for justice are being heard.
When I discovered the news of what happened to Stephanie, a girl the same age as myself with a whole life in front of her, I felt a resounding fear and finality.
There has been so much public discussion recently that has focused on a woman's responsibility to keep herself out of harm's way. She must not walk alone at night; it's up to her to report suspicious behaviour; she must cover herself up and be always on her guard; she must take extra security measures.
Perhaps it is the perpetual masculine society that we live in, that many women are afraid purely by the infused aggression in men. Perhaps it is the media’s responsibility, that most stories centred around violence, aggression and sexual assault, men are often the perpetrators and women the victims.
The subject got me considering, when do I feel unsafe? It’s a simple answer: at night, alone, when in contact with a stranger that appears bigger and stronger than myself. I think most human beings, regardless of whether they are male or female, feel this way.
The terrifying issue of what happened in Leeton is that accused murderer, Vincent Stanford, the reclusive school cleaner had no known friends, no social media profiles and was described simply as a recluse.
Police have said that the man maintained a secret online life, hiding behind fantasy characters to indulge his obsession with computer games, violent videos and neo-Nazi propaganda.
I wondered whether Stephanie ever felt that creeping feeling, the one you get when you know someone is looking at you or whether there was ever any foreboding at all.
It creates a very earth-shattering realisation when you realise that something like this can happen, in a small town, by someone you see every day, it grounds you as a person and shakes you to your core.
Whilst I believe everyone should have the right to walk down the street at night alone without fear or anxiety, I also know that isn’t the society we live in.
While the majority of the time we will be safe - it only takes one.
