I had the responsibility of rewriting the mainframe insurance application on a new software package so that it could be loaded on a laptop, making the selling of insurance to farmers more effective. I was young, only in my second company, and very ambitious. When I was offered the opportunity to learn Lotus Notes, I grabbed it with both hands. The only problem was that I didn’t know the program. But that wasn’t an obstacle-my company brought in external experts to do the majority of the development, with me working alongside the two lead developers. Learning at the hands of the masters, right?
At first, it was amazing. The information they shared, the lessons I absorbed-the learning curve was steep, but I was up for the challenge. The progress we made felt like it was at the speed of light. Both of the lead developers I worked with were men. We would banter, make jokes, work hard-all the usual stuff that makes collaboration enjoyable. But one day, one of them made a derogatory comment that I didn’t appreciate, softly of course, so that the other one did not hear it. At first, I thought I had misheard, so I ignored it.
Every day, it escalated-just a fraction-with more personal comments. More sexist comments. Now, I was brought up in a conservative, Afrikaans-speaking house where men treated women with respect. This kind of banter was foreign to me. To put it frankly, it made me feel dirty. Most evenings, I would go home in tears, asking myself, “What am I supposed to do? They’re from one of the biggest IT companies in the world, and I’m just a young, inexperienced woman. Who will believe me?”
Until one day. That day, it didn’t stay with words. He touched me. And I wasn’t going to stand for it. I turned around slowly and whispered, “This is enough. If you lay a hand on me, or speak to me like that again, I’m going to HR, and I don’t care what happens.” That was the end of it. We still worked together, but he never spoke to me again.
What gives people the right to violate others against their will? Just because I was caught off guard and didn’t say anything in the beginning, what gave him the right to continue? When is NO, NO?
Sexual harassment in the workplace isn’t just about the overt acts-it’s the creeping comments, the subtle power plays, the inappropriate jokes that aren’t funny. It’s the way some people test boundaries, push a little further each time, and see how much they can get away with before you push back. It’s insidious, and it’s damaging.
Let’s talk about the victims first. Sexual harassment isn’t just an uncomfortable moment. It’s the anxiety that follows you home, the self-doubt that creeps in when you wonder if you’re overreacting, the isolation you feel when you’re unsure if anyone will believe you. It chips away at your confidence and your ability to trust those around you. In many cases, it forces talented, capable individuals to leave jobs they love because they feel unsafe.
Now let’s talk about the harassers. What gives someone the audacity to treat another human being as if they’re less than? Is it entitlement? A lack of empathy? A belief that their position of power shields them from consequences? Or is it a mix of all these things? Whatever the reason, it’s inexcusable. No title, no authority, no excuse justifies crossing the line.
The workplace should be a space where everyone feels safe, respected, and valued. It’s not a stage for power plays or predatory behavior. And yet, for so many, it becomes exactly that. For those who are victims, know this: your voice matters. Saying NO matters. Whether it’s loud or whispered, whether it comes in the moment or after you’ve had time to process, your boundaries matter.
For the bystanders-the colleagues who hear the comments, who see the behavior-your voice matters too. Standing up for someone who is being harassed isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. Silence, in the face of harassment, is complicity. And for the harassers? Take a hard look at yourself. Whatever power you think you’re asserting by crossing someone’s boundaries is false. Real power comes from respect, from integrity, from lifting others up-not tearing them down.
When is NO, NO? Always. The first time. The second time. Every time. Because consent isn’t optional, and respect isn’t negotiable. Let’s build workplaces where this isn’t even a question, where people don’t have to fight for basic dignity, and where no one has to whisper, “This is enough.” Because enough is enough.