OPINION: What do we tell our daughters?

by Jacqui Merrington, Audience and Content Director, South West Reach PLC

MY eight-year-old daughter overheard me on a call this morning talking about Sarah Everard.

‘Who was that girl you were talking about who died?’ she asked when I finished the meeting.

I tried to explain. I couldn’t tell her the full horrifying details. That this man, Wayne Couzens, had hired a car and bought adhesive tape and gone out looking for a lone female.

That after identifying his victim near Clapham Common and staging a false arrest, Couzens had handcuffed the 33-year-old in the back of his car and driven her 80 miles to Kent.

Once there, he switched cars and subjected his victim to a brutal rape before strangling her with his police issue belt. He then filled a can with petrol and set her body on fire.

Life in prison is not long enough for this despicable crime. It certainly isn’t long enough to atone for the grief suffered by Sarah’s poor family and friends.

But it’s not long enough for any of us. Sarah’s disappearance triggered a wave of anger about the lack of safety for women on Britain’s streets. Her murder motivated thousands to participate in action against gender based violence.

Protests and vigils were held under the #ReclaimTheStreets banner, thousands revealed their own experiences of misogyny and harassment as part of the #MeToo and #EveryonesInvited movements. It felt as though it marked a turning point.

But still there are violent attacks on our streets and in our homes; most – but not all – of them perpetrated by men on women. In the past six months since Sarah Everard went missing, thousands of other women and girls have been verbally abused, physically assaulted or raped.

Eighty women have been killed by men since Sarah’s murder. One woman dead every 2.5 days so far this year, according to the Counting Dead Women project.

Murders are often described as ‘isolated incidents’. But they’re never entirely isolated. There are almost always red flags. And we need to identify and call out those red flags.

That starts at school, with children like my daughter being taught to call out unacceptable behaviour, sexism and harassment and understanding healthy friendships and relationships both online and in the playground.

As adults, we need stronger laws on sexual harassment so that women – and men – have the confidence to report verbal abuse.

And we need greater checks on the police to ensure we can trust those people in authority whose job it is to protect us.

I didn’t tell my daughter any of this. I just had to tell her that this was a one-off. That this was a nasty man who would be jailed for the rest of his life. That it never happens where we live. That it was incredibly rare for it to happen anywhere.

And I just have to hope that by the time she’s a teenager, the systemic failures that allowed a police officer to commit murder, that enable thousands of women every day to be harassed without retribution, that still see women assaulted on our streets and in homes every day are properly addressed so that women and girls feel safe on our streets and Sarah Everard really is a one-off.