Lisa cycled home, but never put her key in the lock again
The screen of my phone lights up. It’s a notification from RTL. “‘Why was she cycling alone at night?’ A painful, but also logical question.’ I feel indignation, anger. The night is ours too. It belongs to women as well.
Lisa (17) cycled home from a night out at Leidseplein in Amsterdam to Abcoude on the night from Tuesday to Wednesday. A ride of maybe half an hour, on an electric bike. Around four o'clock she was attacked. She even called 112 for help to let them know someone was following her. It was too late. A quarter of an hour later, officers found her body. Lisa no longer parked her bike in front of the door, she no longer put her key in the lock and could no longer let her parents know she was safely home.
The news shocks the Netherlands. It could have been any girlfriend, every daughter, a little friend or your neighbor girl. What am I saying? Every woman who has ever cycled home at night in our country knows that unsettling feeling. A car that stays behind you just a little too long, being shouted at on the street, the dark and creepy bike tunnels on the way home where suddenly a male oncoming cyclist appears. Lisa felt it that night too, but didn’t survive.
Full of dangers
It’s mainly the questions surrounding this news that make my stomach turn. ‘Why was she cycling there alone at night’ is one of them. As if someone else is responsible for this happening, other than the perpetrator. No. Every woman should be able to walk the streets safely at night, put the key in the lock at home and close the door behind her without looking back first. Because that’s what women do. Always checking the surroundings, assessing whether you are safe enough, taking a detour if you see a group of men appearing in the distance and taking the longer route because it’s better lit. It’s the risk analysis you wouldn’t want to make.
I still hear my mother saying: never cycle home alone at night. Yet it sometimes happened. If a friend wanted to leave just a little earlier or later. If there was not a single taxi available on the island where I lived. Or if I ran around the corner and saw the bus just leaving the stop. The bike path of ten kilometers between Middelharnis and Oude-Tonge was mine during the day, but at night apparently suddenly full of dangers. It started with a ’never go with strangers’ when I was very little. And it was still there this weekend when I, at thirty-eight years old, stepped on my bike alone to go home and shouted ‘I’ll text when I’m home.’.
Heartbreaking
Lisa was cycling home after, I hope, an unforgettable summer evening with friends. Wearing gray pants, a gray sweater to keep her warm, on black Adidas shoes and a red bag on the handlebars. Alone. Just as every woman should be able to and dare to do. They probably promised each other to text when they got home. Maybe even checked each other's live locations one more time. Lisa's dot stopped at Holterbergeweg in Duivendrecht. And never moved again.
The reason for the attack? It doesn’t matter. Lisa was only seventeen and was cycling home. A man took away her freedom to do this, took her life. Every man who attacks a woman takes away a piece of freedom from all women in our country. Lisa had to pay with her life for something seemingly normal like cycling home. It’s heartbreakingly unfair because the night was also Lisa’s.
We wish Lisa's family and friends infinite strength and comfort in this loss.
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