In dealing with my past and seeking an ever elusive closure, I have come to understand that closure is not necessarily a permanent or irreversible sensation.

I know mine is not the only voice in this song of protest. I love singing, I love choirs, I love the idea of my voice adding to the many, mainly female voices rising against the situation women face in humanitarian work.

I was sexually harassed by a colleague some years back and did something unusual at the time: I reported it. I was a naive humanitarian worker trusting the organisation I worked for and I reached out for help right away.

I felt sad and lost at first, and thought I’d had bad luck to become a victim of unfortunate circumstances. Next I wrote with anger, as I made sense of what I had been through. Then I made another shift, and realised that my vulnerability had been created by the context, not by an individual. I observed how the humanitarian world allowed predators …