< Translator’s note: The original formatting of the stories has been preserved. The translations aim to remain as close as possible to each author's original wording and expression.

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This happened quite recently, just about a month ago. I was riding my bicycle. It was in a village, so there was no separate bike lane. Ahead of me were two men, around 40–50 years old, walking along the road. I gave them a signal to warn them that I was approaching, and they stepped aside to opposite sides of the road, leaving space for me to pass between them.

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At the moment I rode past, one of the men started grabbing my buttocks. Completely stunned, I turned around and saw his disgusting, brazen smile. I couldn’t say anything to him — I felt paralyzed. And even if I could have said something, I would still have been afraid, because there were two men in their forties.

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All I could do was quietly cry and try to suppress the anger and outrage I felt about the situation. I no longer ride on that road.

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Anonymous author; story shared in 2022 as part of the campaign “16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence.”