The Maroon Scars of Sexual Harassment Survivors
By Julia Emelene Mendoza & Luisa Gabriela Jarabe
Content Warning: Mention and depictions of sexual abuse and harassment
The University of the Philippines (UP) is known to be home to student advocates of social justice and champions of the masses yet the irony is that unresolved sexual harassment cases plague its hallways.
Rielle*, a UP Manila student, has been walking the campus corridors alongside her sexual harasser for four long years. While she is caught in a chokehold of bureaucratic systems and cycles of dead ends taking a toll on her mental health, her perpetrator walks the campus floors scot-free. With blood still on his hands — not even a single corner of the campus is safe for Rielle.
Survivors like Rielle are left to fend for themselves at the expense of their mental health, academics, and social life as a result of a tedious bureaucratic system that does not hold perpetrators accountable. Slowly, survivors bleed while the one who cut them sits beside them in class.
Death by a Thousand Cuts
Rielle has already been inclined to advocate for social justice prior to entering UP, set on studying the realm of politics. Nonetheless, like most UP students, Rielle was introduced to a whole new world once she became an Iska. Nights out with friends and free sexual speech, among others, were not something she was used to.
This shiny new world was hers to explore; but danger was just around the corner, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on her. Rielle is one of the survivors of sexual harassment by a fellow UPM student. Her perpetrator used to be one of her closest friends.
“Originally, magkaibigan talaga kami nung online class pa lang since sobrang sociable [at] madaldal [siya],” Rielle shared. However, when face-to-face classes resumed, their friendship started to shift. Having just gone through a breakup, Rielle confided in her former friend. The perpetrator then started hinting at wanting to become intimate with her, with no strings attached.
Rielle initially agreed to the arrangement, as she wanted to explore more of her sexuality; she agreed to keep things discreet, upon the request of her former friend. However, she pulled the plug when she realized that she felt disgusted — casual intimacy was not something she wanted.
“Nag-iinitiate pa rin siya [after that], pero ako, gusto ko na lang kalimutan ‘yung nangyari and [just] be friends with him again,” Rielle explained.
Alas, the perpetrator would still make sexual advances on Rielle, trying to become physical with her in public places: Rielle shared that there were instances where he would try to touch her thighs or make her touch his shaft against her will. Trying to maintain their friendship, she would lightheartedly plead with him to stop: “Huy, kadiri ka! Tama na ‘yan,” she would say. Eventually, Rielle started ignoring the perpetrator completely as he was persistent in initiating unwanted sexual advances.
Things unfortunately took a turn for the worse. Seemingly trying to retaliate against Rielle for ignoring him, the perpetrator started spreading false rumors about her.
“None of them were accurate,” Rielle affirmed. “Pinakalat niya na ‘navirginan’ niya na ako, which is not true. Pinakalat din niya na multiple times na may nangyari samin, which is, again, not true. Then, pinakalat niya rin na nag-me-make out kami sa school, which is not true — I would never do that within school premises,” Rielle recalled.
Rielle became a pariah on the campus because of the false claims made against her — most of her male classmates did not want to talk to her. People distanced themselves from her and did not want to engage with someone in those disgusting rumors. It was only when she was able to clarify the situation through her friends that they started talking to her.
The perpetrator also went as far as creating an AI-generated pornographic video of Rielle. Ella*, Rielle’s friend and also a survivor of the same perpetrator, was the one who informed Rielle of this video.
“May pinakita daw [‘yung perpetrator] na video kay Ella; video ko raw. Wala akong pinermit ever na video ko. Never ako nag-send sakaniya,” Rielle said. “Pinakita niya ‘yun just to make sexual advances to my friend.” Rielle was not the only person victimized by the perpetrator’s unsolicited digital offenses.
While the perpetrator was spreading rumors about Rielle and Ella, he would also send intimate photos and videos of him and his then-girlfriend to different group chats.
At some point following the series of incidents, the perpetrator approached Rielle to apologize. “He was f***ing begging, [saying na] magbabago na siya, na aayusin niya na ‘yung buhay niya. Sorry siya nang sorry for spreading false news about me. Nag-sorry din siya on behalf of my boyfriend kasi nadadamay na rin siya,” Rielle narrated
However, despite his apology, he tried to initiate unsolicited physical contact with Rielle, once again crossing the line. “Hindi ko alam kung saan niya nakuha ‘yung kakapalan ng mukha na hawakan pa ako during that time,” Rielle exclaimed. She also mentioned how after the supposed apology, the perpetrator would still attempt to put his arm around her, which was, again, against her will. “Maybe for him, that was friendly-friendly na lang. Pero for me, hindi eh. Kasi ayoko na siyang makita at all.”
Rielle, like many sexual harassment survivors, continues to bleed from unwanted sexual advances, nonconsensual sexually charged touches, slanderous rumors, and revenge porn, while the bureaucratic system supposed to provide them justice allows the perpetrator to continue torturing them unscathed.
Vile is the system for allowing a survivor and their tormentor to tread the same hallways and attend the same classes. Rielle can only bleed while justice remains out of reach.
The Cut That Always Bleeds
While the actions of the perpetrator transpired over the course of a year, the scars that Rielle had suffered from those unfortunate events stay with her until now. The scars of paranoia bleed deep into Rielle’s mind: clear manifestations of the mental and emotional turmoil left by the perpetrator have turned her life around these past two years.
“Kapag may nakakakilala sakin, sinong Rielle ba ang naiimagine nila? ‘Yung performer na Rielle or ‘yung Rielle na may sexual harassment case? Maybe they think I deserve [what happened to me].”
Rielle sunk deeper into the trenches. Her life had recently been a constant cycle of going back and forth to the Philippine General Hospital to seek professional help for her mental health, constantly zoning out and not being able to sleep, eat, nor take care of herself. The smallest mention of the perpetrator’s name would immediately send her to tears.
Even in her sleep, Rielle is not granted the luxury of peace as her subconscious whispers her deepest fears in the form of vivid nightmares every night. Rielle recounts being tormented in her sleep by being pressured into silence and hiding by those who protect the perpetrator, not a far cry from the subtle social pressure she receives awake.
Night and day, survivors of sexual misconduct persevere despite the injustices that block them from holistic healing. Some are just more ‘used’ to hiding it than others — when they never should have been in hiding in the first place.
Cutting the Line
When the actions of her perpetrator were being uncovered on the UPM Freedom Wall, Rielle had foreseen that she would not be able to maintain her class standing due to her current disposition.
She was not able to attend her classes for weeks, and consequently, her grades had dropped. However, to her dismay, she learned that while the perpetrator’s issues were being brought to light, he seemed to have not faced any consequences or repercussions. “Nakakabwisit na more than half a semester siya na hindi pumasok pero nakapasa pa rin siya sa lahat ng subject. We don’t know [how or] why [that happened].”
Despite survivors’ and their peers’ pressing the administration for justice, the uproar of sexual misconduct cases within the university was cut short by enrollment woes. With every thread of hope that Rielle clings on to move on from her trauma, a golden opportunity lands her needle that would allow her to spin her destiny within the university. As a graduating student, Rielle was elated that she was one of the very few students to secure all her desired units to finally complete her academic journey.
But Rielle was not the only one.
According to her, the perpetrator was among one of — if not the very first — to secure his slots for this semester.
“Suntok talaga sa sikmura na nakikita naming [siya] pa yung may help at prioritization sa enrollment. [Paano siya] nakakapasa kahit hindi siya pumapasok?”
And as close to the finish line Rielle is, she herself chooses not to tread the final steps to her own victory. If graduating on time meant sharing the same glory with her perpetrator, then she would rather hide herself under the cloak of anonymity she has worn for the past two years if it meant protecting herself.
More often than not, survivors like Rielle choose to sacrifice pieces of themselves to afford the price of their comfort and safety from being in the same space as their perpetrators. This almost begs the question: for whom is the safe space that the university ‘fosters’– the survivors of sexual misconduct, or the perpetrators held unaccountable?
“I don’t feel safe around him at all; drop ko na lang lahat ng units ko. Sino bang gustong gumraduate na katabi harasser nila?”
Piercing Through Bureaucracies
Rielle is one of the very few survivors that chose to pursue formal complaints to many authorities both inside and outside the university. She also reached out to informal channels of help, such as turning to her peers and professors in hopes of their lenient understanding of her situation.
“Lumapit ako sa pinaka-close kong professor for help. There are profs ready to take action…”
But despite her own efforts, Rielle could only do so much with the initiatives she has for her self-advocacy.
“…pero pinagbawalan sila ng OSA. Sabi nila, wag [kumilos yung mga prof] for ‘better control’ [of my case].”
Dumbfounded, Rielle was forced to process her case in isolation with the very quiet help of a select few.
According to her, the offices had very little movement with her case and other similar complaints. From the promised ‘special committee’ of the OSS to the two-years delay of the OSA, Rielle felt hopeless trudging in the mud she was forcibly pushed into.
And in the clutches of desperation, she clings, helplessly losing her grip at the ‘advice’ given to her by one of the offices for the streamlining of her case.
“Sabi nila, ‘kung gusto mong mapabilis yung case mo, file a case outside’.”
To many survivors, the bureaucratic quicksand of justice is one that completely consumes them whole. Without the deep understanding and dedicated help her peers gave her, Rielle would have carried this burden alone for years to come. Without her friends rallying for her cause and helping her pressure offices for action, formal complaints such as hers would not have been given enough attention.
But for Rielle, the fight does not stop there.
“The [offices] wanted ‘easy control’ of the profs and the students; but why would we want to be controlled? If it doesn’t stop now, it will happen to all other students and generations. Tayo pa naman top university seeking social justice, pero sa loob ng campus na’tin walang hustisya? This needs to stop.”
Her own burning conviction, her peers’ will to fight, and the professors’ steady guidance made up a steady fortress of defense for survivors like Rielle to keep the fight going despite the odds. The steady community she has built for herself allowed her to keep on pressing the administration for her own justice and many other survivors who are vulnerable in their isolation.
However, as the battle cries for help die down, Rielle wishes to keep the fight alive in her limited time left in the university: starting with reaching out to other survivors of sexual misconduct.
“Nanginginig ako while saying this; I am also afraid. Pero hindi tayo nagiisa. We are huge if magkasama [tayo].”
Demolishing the many tiers of rape culture within university spaces is the first step to achieving a safer space for all its stakeholders. At the next level, self-realization and self-advocacy among survivors must take place for them to press their long overdue justice.
The rigid structures and bureaucratic tapes of the university’s administrative response chained down by the outdated Anti-sexual Harassment (ASH) code must be revisited and revised in the pursuit of a holistic and survivor-centered approach to handling cases like Rielle’s. Without the continued fight of the UP Manila community for justice for survivors of all degrees of sexual misconduct, survivors will continue to hide while perpetrators flourish in their freedom.
In the near future, many perpetrators will get to don the revered sablay scratch-free and unaccountable, waving across a stage bearing the honor and prestige of the University despite their horrific actions.
But today, there sit many Rielles in the very classrooms students participate in — treading hallways with caution, feeling unsafe in the space that was meant to help them grow. The weight of university walls pressed onto them, smearing dried blood from open scars that no survivor could bear alone.
One thing is for certain: this is not how Iskos and Iskas should bleed maroon.
*For their privacy and safety, a pseudonym was used in lieu of the interviewee and her friend’s name.
