When Ajita Topo, a cook in an affluent neighborhood in Delhi, leaves work in the evening, she holds her bag like a shield against her chest, keeps her fists clenched and carries a black umbrella with a very sharp end to ward off a possible attack. She makes sure to wear lots of layers—no matter how hot it is—to deter someone from trying to grope her chest, and secures her bun with a sharp metal stick as an additional weapon.  Topo isn’t being paranoid. Last year, she was followed by two men when she left work after 10 p.m. She managed to scare them away by shouting as she passed homes with guards outside. “Workplace, public transport, public places, we feel safe nowhere,” said Topo, the sole breadwinner for her two children. “The only solution is to stay alert at all times.” For many women in India, taking steps to ward off a violent attack—and reassuring their families they are safe while at work and on their commutes—is an invisible form of labor that is a central element of their work life. 

The killing and rape of a trainee doctor in the city of Kolkata in August  2024 was a fresh reminder for Indian women who work of the dangers lurking in public spaces where women are far less visible than men, from the deserted corners of a hospital or corporate park, in public transport or on city streets. The 31-year-old was found dead in a seminar hall of the state-run hospital after she went on break during a night shift. A volunteer at the hospital has been arrested as a suspect. The killing prompted protests by women across the country. 

A decade ago, Indian laws dealing with crimes against women were overhauled in the wake of the gang-rape of a 23-year-old woman on a moving bus. But women’s rights advocates say that entrenched patriarchal attitudes haven’t budged significantly, and are at the root of frequent violence against women, both in the home and outside it. In other widely publicized incidents, female call-center workers have been assaulted and killed as they commuted to or from night shifts. Last year, a receptionist disappeared from the hotel where she worked and was found dead days later. Each time such a crime takes place, women experience another jolt of fear for their own safety

Vidhi Pandey, a digital-marketing professional, has an almost 90-minute commute between her home in Gurgaon and her office in the Indian capital, and frequently attends evening events. If an international client is involved, her day can end at 2 a.m. When she books a cab, she makes sure to look at the driver’s performance rating and reads riders’ feedback regarding his behavior. If she is wearing a skirt, she changes into something more covered up before getting into a taxi for her ride home. On her phone, she keeps the Delhi Police panic button app open throughout the ride. The app, developed after the 2012 bus attack and called “Himmat” or “courage,” allows the user to quickly send an alert to the Delhi Police, with a link to the user’s location on Google Maps, as well as notifications to family and friends. She makes sure to share her live location and trip status with her husband and at least one friend. Sometimes she keeps a phone call going with her mother or a friend throughout the car ride. “I keep thinking about how to escape if something goes wrong,” said Pandey. “I dream of a day when our society is safe enough for me to travel alone anytime, anywhere without any fear or worry.”

Excerpts from  Vibhuti Agarwal and Tripti Lahiri, For Working Women in India Staying Safe Can Feel Like a Full Time Job, WSJ, Oct. 16, 2024