GROWING up in the 1970s, I was vaguely aware that there was a movement in the West by women who were fighting for equality. They were called feminists – which had ugly man-hating overtones because they famously burned their bras.
Such was my ignorance that even as a young journalist, I accepted sexual harassment, along with smoking and cussing, as part and parcel of my male-dominated workplace. I didn’t even know there was a name for such behaviour then.
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