Yes, Twitter's unforgiving. But here’s why Rega Jha would much rather use her 140 characters than stay quiet altogether!
The routine is pretty set. Roll over. Hit snooze. Doze off. Finally I groan, stretch a little, and bring my phone over my face. With thumbs as my Virgil, the descent through hell begins. E-mails first, a glimpse at the day’s impending tortures. Then WhatsApp, where every morning the 34 notifications I’m excited to unveil turn out to be forwards from extended family. Texts, most of which are from McDonald’s (RelationshipGoals), and then the holy trifecta of selfie repositories: Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook. Finally, I open Twitter and scroll my way through vitriol into wakefulness.
One morning last year, the routine ended with a decision. Like many women on Twitter, I often found my notifications tab brimming over with all manner of gendered and sexualised attacks in response to opinions, links, and, in my case, to goofy jokes and memes. Most days, I thought nothing of it. But that morning, probably having seen some particularly nasty threats, I followed a whim to my neighbourhood police station.
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March 01 2016