Murray has in fact quote-tweeted Onjali Raúf twice. I don't know if she's travelled "the world over", but I know she's spent a lot of time physically volunteering in refugee camps. And the British government wasn't paying her to be there.
I might have a Mad Angry Cry in a minute.
While I get myself under control, here's an extract from one of her speeches. I'll let you decide who of the two – Murray or Raúf – is more of an authority on the situation of women across the world who don't have smartphones. (Ye gods and goddesses, is he going to say that Ukrainians shouldn't be offered refuge if they have smartphones, or ever frequented nice restaurants in Ukraine before the invasion?)
extract
As a woman of faith – whose God, may I please remind everyone, IS genderless, I have zero problems with anyone who is anything ‘other’ than me.
If you’re a man who wants to step out of the socially constructed He-Man box that is ‘man’ to make a home in the socially constructed box of ‘woman’, then go for it.
But please, please, please, don’t do so to invade a space that women are still fighting so hard for.
Create your own space – a third space – a fifth space – a seventh space – one which caters to your own unique experiences and needs too – because you will have plenty of both that we as women won’t understand or share in too.
Or better yet, take space from the men – they have lots!
And please don’t pretend that my own experiences of transforming from girl to woman – and all the millions of tiny hurts and pains and prejudices and pushbacks all women have suffered as a result of being a girl, then woman, can be shared by you either.
Whether it’s toilets or changing rooms, specialist services or a refuge, school toilets or prison cells or hospital wards, it’s vital women’s uniqueness, lives and wants be as respected as you want your uniqueness, lives and wants to be respected.
As someone working with women fleeing domestic violence and war, human trafficking rings, childhood sexual abuse and a million and one other experiences of male-inflicted violence in between, our under-funded, drastically reducing, single-sex spaces are literally our last vestiges of safety.
For women who have been punched, beaten, raped, and broken at every possible level you can conceive, to be forced to accept former men as part of their healing process, will, to put it bluntly, lead to further trauma, or worse still, a distrust and turning away from the very services they believed might help them.
And I have to ask our policy makers, our parliament, and organisations like Stonewall and basically any human being with a shred of humanity: really?
Do these women’s needs and the needs of the young boys and girls they bring with them, really matter so little to you?
Aren’t they just as important as those wanting to be granted access to our worlds? And not only access – but special rules and allowances too?
As I look around in today’s world, I see more and more bewildered women and girls feeling confused, alienated and afraid.
Women like myself and my Sikh or Hindu or Jewish friends who need single-space places to safely unveil, wash up and reconfigure ourselves; or women who are breastfeeding and lactating and needing a space to let it all hang out; or women going through the menopause or chemotherapy who need safe spaces to just be looked after, or young girls on their first ever periods or sprouting breasts who need space for support and reassurance.
Or every woman ever, who needs a safe space like this to come and meet and talk about our fears and battles, and hopefully create better policies and movements for our future women.
Even the smallest annihilation of the basic right to be a woman in the presence of other women can have dire impacts on our health and state of mind.
A case in point: three weeks ago, I took a dear friend to lunch.
All was going well, we were having a beautiful time, and halfway through the meal, she left to go to the restaurant bathroom.
The woman that came back, was not the same one who left the luncheon table: for instead of the carefree, happy being I knew, came back a pale, quiet and slightly shaken version.
It transpired the restaurant had a gender ‘neutral’ bathroom, and as she had made her way down, a very innocent man had walked out of the toilets, banging into her.
Nothing of any significance to anyone watching – not until I tell you that this friend of two decades, had been raped in her university dorm room at the age of twenty, and feared all contact with men – no matter how nice, kind, friendly, non-threatening or ‘effeminate’ they might seem.
Continues: www.womansplaceuk.org/2019/10/01/the-sheer-audacity-of-our-existence/