Shhh… Listen! Do you hear the sound of Freedom?

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

5 long years, 2 valuable degrees and uncountable memories from my University have changed my perspective about student life completely. One thing I learned is that absolutely anything is possible if you have the zeal and determination for it.

One amazing and unbelievable incident tops the list of ‘crazy memories’.

We had student elections every year to choose our own Student campus council. The female students outnumber male students by a ratio of nearly 7:3. However, the irony lies in the fact that all the restrictions were still laid upon the female students.

We were not allowed to leave the hostel premises after 9 PM; we had a daily attendance from 9–10 pm; hefty fines were imposed for lateness and we were questioned about what we did, where we went and why we were late. Our basic existence in general.

In my final year, something miraculous happened though, a woman was voted as the first ever Student Campus President. It was a revolutionary step in the 72-year old history of the University.

She and her party made it their goal to liberate all the female students from these archaic and misogynist rules. They presented a memorandum to the authorities, the main demand being ‘24*7 open girls’ hostels’.

It looked like a mammoth task initially. There were protests, agitations, campaigning day and night but to no avail, the authorities didn’t budge. Male students openly supported the women. It was students vs. the authorities.

One day, way past the curfew, the protesting students, entered our hostels, singing feminist songs and raising slogans. They asked us to join them, and leave the hostel premises late into the night. We were skeptical and scared, but the men formed a human chain, shielding us and we did what we had never done before: break the curfew. One by one, more students joined and it became a sea of students. We raised slogans, sang for our freedom even in the 21st century. There were media vans, Police vehicles surrounding us. All of us had our phone flashlights blazing. It was incredible. The feeling of being in open, past curfew was exhilarating and liberating.

We sat down in front of the Dean’s residence on a chilly winter night, hours after midnight and refused to budge until someone from the authorities came to negotiate. That in itself was a victory. A month later, we were granted what we wanted: freedom.

There’s still a long way to go though. We, women, will truly have attained ‘freedom’ when we won’t have to ask for it.