Director’s Note

As a journalist, for many years I worked on sexual harassment and assault stories. I threw myself into helping these women share their experiences in the hopes that it would help them, and others, too. I eventually realised that in some way, these brave women were helping me come to terms with telling my own story.

Sexual harassment and assault go beyond just that moment of contact. The effects are far-reaching, encompassing everything from work to daily life to the point of no separation, and no return.

In late 2019, I began working on a documentary campaign with women’s groups to lobby for the Sexual Harassment Bill – a law that was by then 20 years in the making. When the Malaysian government collapsed and the pandemic halted everything, the project was placed on the backburner.

Despite this, I still had to deal with the events detailed in The Boys Club as I tried to continue my work with the women survivors.

The men in positions of power made work difficult. I was told to hand over the project to my subordinates, despite my concerns and explicit requests that these women remain anonymous for their safety. They had placed their trust in me and I wanted to respect that. It is ironic that a publication known for championing women’s rights could be so callous in handling the confidentiality of the very subjects it was supposed to fight for. Other than the footage which belonged to the company, I refused to hand over anything else.

My dissent was punished, one event after another over several years. The last straw came when I was told to report to a subordinate who had threatened me before, and I had to leave the company.

It didn’t end there. One of the survivors told me that a male reporter, a former colleague, had contacted her directly without my knowledge – or her consent. I was appalled because I had made sure he was not at her interview filming so that she would not feel uncomfortable.

I confronted my former colleagues and they dismissed my concerns. The woman was just making a big deal out of nothing, they said.

The project was eventually canned after more survivors voiced their concerns over having their trauma passed around the office like it meant nothing when they had never given consent to anyone other than me. Again, these men went on with their lives as if nothing happened. No remorse, no attempt to remedy the issue. I felt like it was my fault that I had broken the trust that was placed on me to tell these stories respectfully.

The men around me seem entitled to censor my voice. I had given an interview, in my own capacity as a filmmaker, and my former editor contacted the publication to make “corrections”. Does he think he can just go around speaking for me and other women?

I feel it is my duty to finish the work I started, with whatever skills and resources I have, and to continue to lobby for change. I owe it to these brave women who revisited their own trauma to tell their stories.

This film is my own way of telling my side of things after enduring years of bullying and harassment. This is for all the women who chose to speak up and who gave me the courage to do the same.