The driver wanted to take me home for free, and when he did, he began masturbating. I felt fear and disgust. I became wary of taxi rides.

It happened two years ago. It was April, and it was getting dark at 7 PM. After the studies, I took a taxi, and when the car approached my bus stop, I asked to stop. However, the driver did not stop, although I repeated it loudly 4 times. I was about to jump out of the taxi and opened the door. The taxi driver stopped the car, and I took advantage of the moment, gave him 10k without taking the change, and jumped out of the car. I ran home as fast as I could. I received a certificate at the hospital in order not to go to college and I changed all my courses' time to the morning, so that I could return home before dark and by public transport.

I felt guilty that I might not look decent. I have not got into a taxi for a year and a half.

I do not know if this situation can be called harassment, but this happens quite often. At the beginning of the ride, the taxi driver asked whether I dated someone. When I replied that I did not, he locked the doors, turned to me and asked if I needed a company for the evening. I said no, he reached out to my legs and started stroking them; I pulled myself away and said that I was dialling the police number. He unlocked the doors immediately and said that I was crazy. After I got out, I wrote a letter to the support of this taxi service. Such situations happen almost all the time, so I did not address anyone else.

Probably, I got used to such situations. The men are constantly harassing in a taxi, on the street. I just try to fight back or not react at all. What can we do in this situation? Society will still protect men, accuse us of revealing clothing or indecent behaviour, and say that we are to blame for everything.

My friend and I were in a hurry to go home, so we got into the first car that stopped near us. During the ride, the driver looked at me in a pervert way. I decided to call my dad and ask to meet us. I was sitting behind the driver, so I did not see him, my friend told me about his looks. When my friend and I got out of the taxi, she said that he had erection. Thank God, everything went right, and nothing happened to us.

I realized the danger of the situation when a friend told me about his looks and erection. After that, I was terrified that I could become a victim of this pervert. For a week, I was searching the similar stories, and I was horrified at what could happen. I even wanted to buy a pepper spray.

That old guy persistently offered to save his number, to become a «big brother» for me, talked about financial support, despite the fact that I told him I was minor. This knocked me sideways for three days. He did not touch me, but it was very difficult to accept that a man who had children and a wife, who was the same age as my father, was trying to hit on me. It was very upsetting.

I was not alone in the car; my sister was with me. We were going home. After 10 minutes of driving, the driver began to question me (was I single, where did I live, how many people were at home). The sister was on the phone. He started asking for a phone number immediately, I got scared of the driver and ignored him, not answered him. When we arrived, we got out, but then, I realized that I left the phone in the car. When I wanted to take it, the driver blocked the door. Thus, I was left alone with the driver in a locked car. I felt hysterical, and he said that until I gave the number, he would not let me go. My sister started knocking on the car door, the driver panicked and opened it, and I ran out. I want to highlight that I had my hair down and a midi dress. I should not be afraid to look like this, and I should not be afraid to get into a taxi at all. Now, I am extremely careful when catching a taxi, I prefer to travel by bus and metro, whether it is convenient for me or not. Yes, I am afraid of taxi drivers.

I felt bad. There were many such cases. However, this one was terrible. Now I am not worried about it, but then, I was hysterical and was afraid to go out from the house. Just because I am a girl, it does not mean that I agree to everything. I hate the state authorities for not monitoring this, because this is a real problem!

Everything was as usual: I caught a taxi to get to school, and sat in the front seat. The driver was an overweight middle-aged man in a sportswear. There was nothing unusual during the trip, but in the middle of the way, when we stopped at a traffic light, he and put his hand on my knee and patted, noticing how strong my legs were and asked whether I do sports. I was extremely indignant and as soon as I realized the situation, I pushed his hand away. The rest of the way, it was unpleasant for me to stay in one car with him. I did not change the car, because I was late and decided not to attach such great importance to his actions.

I was late for school. It was winter, and in the morning, it was completely dark. I studied in the 9^th grade. I caught a taxi (taxi services were not popular then). The driver was a man in his thirties. He started asking me questions about age, place of study, and so on. I deliberately lowered my age, said I was 14. However, I always looked younger than my age. When we got to school, he blocked the door and started demanding my number to take me somewhere in the evening. He started saying nonsense about some restaurants. I threw money at him and opened the door myself. The next morning, I was late again. I already remembered that car. I went out to the road, and he is waiting for me there. He got out of the car and headed to me. Fortunately, another car stopped, I immediately got into it, told the address and asked to go faster. That crazy driver chased us for some time, honked, shouted that I was a whore, and showed obscene gestures. For the next week, I tried to go to school earlier to take the bus. After that, I saw his car several times. He did not come to me anymore.

Now, I use taxi services only. I always put on the headphones so that the driver can see that I am not going to talk, although they are often mute. I always control the route. Sometimes, Yandex.Taxi drivers ask, «I have little charge in my phone; can I finish the trip in the application and continue without the map?» I always disagree. When the map is minimized, there is no way to follow the route. I advise everyone not to allow this. If the application closes without your consent, get out of the car.

He said he wanted to touch my breasts to remember the size and give me a bra. He stretched out his hand.

I am afraid to ride in the front seat. I felt very dirty and was angry about such injustice.

My boyfriend accompanied me; it was already 11 PM. The driver was told the location; it was about eight minutes ride. All this time, he asked me questions, to which I answered reluctantly and it was noticeable. A few minutes later, he offered to have coffee. At such a time, there were almost no places working, so I am not sure that he meant some kind of a cafe. I refused; he tried to persuade. I said that it was too late and I had to go home. When we drove up to my house, he passed the destination and asked me for a number saying, «If I do not receive your number, I will not let it out». I got scared and got out of the still driving car.

Speaking honestly, with our mentality, you get used to such treatment, and the situation is not so serious, some experience much worse situations. In the future, my boyfriend and I will be careful in choosing a taxi.

It happened at 11 AM. My mother and I were leaving the embassy and she had to go to work urgently, so I went home myself. I was catching a ride; the white Lasseti stopped, we agreed where to go and about the price. I sat in the back seat; the taxi driver was 35-40 years old. On the way, he started asking strange questions about my name, age, and place of study. He told that he works as a driver and asked if I needed a driver, because I was catching a taxi alone. This made me uncomfortable, and we approached a house, I prepared money, put my bag closer to the door, so that he could not hold me back. I asked to stop along the main road near the shop, so as not to go further. When he stopped, he turned and grabbed my knee; it seems he had time to touch my leg. Fortunately, he did not block the doors and I jumped out of the car. I knew that he would not follow, as there were people on the street. I was scared of course, but I was glad that I got out.

Then, I thought that I was just not lucky and anything could happen. I thought that all girls experience such situations and I was lucky that in general, he did nothing to me and I ran away. It was just disgusting that someone touched me. Therefore, I decided that it was not that bad. I did not tell my parents. Now, I think I would remember the license plate number of the car and address the police.

I wear a hijab. I had to go to an educational institution, so I caught a taxi on the road, beige car with an advertisement of some taxi company, I do not remember the name. I sat in the back seat. He stopped on the way in front of two men and asked me to seat in front. Nothing was wrong until the men came out. He began talking to me on abstract topics. The man was older than my father – around 50-55 years old. He began praising and complimenting me, I did not react. I was silent and only listened. At some point, his hand, which was on the gear lever, touched my knee. I moved my legs; he put his hand on my leg, while continuing to talk nonsense. I had only one thing in my head – fear. The man was tall and big, he strongly smelled of sweat, I was very scared and disgusted. I began fighting and shouting at him; he removed his hand, but continued to speak and offered to go to the mountains, where he had a house. I was very, very scared. The only thing I could do was call his supposed place of work. When I got out of the car, I memorized the license plate number and wrote it down on the phone. I called the services where this car could be registered, but without success. I did not tell my parents about this, because I knew that they would blame me for giving him a reason by sitting on the front seat. If I addressed the police, they would have told my family. For Uzbek girls, such situations negatively affect the reputation.

I felt helpless, and that I could be harassed at any time, that it is dangerous to be alone, even in the daytime. I experienced great stress that caused breakdown, and I could not go to classes. I no longer sit in front seat and carry a bunch of keys with me. I always sit in the back seat, I do not catch a taxi, but I order it in the registered Yandex system. However, there were also several cars not registered in the system, which drove on their own. I am very careful now and do not allow men to approach me.

I took a taxi to go to the boyfriend's place. The taxi driver began asking me how old I was, what nationality I was, whether I professed Islam. I had a bright manicure and long nails, he asked if I it were my own nails, if I was doing household chores, if I was cooking. I answered all the questions honestly, said that I was 17, I did not cook at home, and I was not a Muslim. He asked if I had a husband. It seems to me that having a husband at the age of 17 is not normal. The questions were extremely strange, in my opinion.

At that time, I just got married, literally a month passed. I had to go to the clinic. Following the traditions, I was wearing beautiful outfits and jewellery. I stopped the car; usually I always sit in the back seat. However, this time in the taxi, the entire back seat was filled with bags. I thought to refuse, but was ashamed and sat in the front seat. I felt his eyes on me; it was uncomfortable. He began asking a bunch of questions, hit on me; I immediately said that I was married, but he did not believe it, laughed it off, began saying compliments, asked for a phone number. I insisted to stop the car, and repeated that I was married. He began convincing me that he could just be my friend, that he had wife, he just wanted to treat me like a little sister. I wanted to get out of the car, but at such moments, you get lost. I was wearing sunglasses; he looked at me for a long time and said that he wanted to see my eyes; he reached out and took off my glasses. I was shocked, but after that, he put his nasty hand on my leg! I screamed; he began talking about my legs and body; I screamed asking to stop. I made a lot of noise, so he got scared and stopped right at the intersection. I threw the money and ran away. I felt disgusted the whole day. I told my husband, and he wanted to find this taxi driver, to report it, but I did not even remember the license plate number. In the end, he supported and calmed me down. However, since then, I started ordering taxi, as I am still afraid to ride with strangers.

There are many such stories, in fact, I honestly did not think about it as of something unnatural, I even blamed myself in such situations. Why did I not sit on the back seat? Or, when I saw that the seat was full, why was I ashamed to refuse? Why did I dress beautifully? And so on. Now, thanks to such projects, I understand that the problem is not in me, but, unfortunately, in the people who allow themselves to behave in such a manner.

My mother and I were returning in a taxi from Tashkent to Navoi. Mom was sitting in the front seat. I and two other people (brother and sister) sat behind. I was wearing shorts, as it was very hot summer. In a sleep, I felt someone touching my leg and opened my eyes. A man in his twenties was sitting next to me. He pretended to be asleep and his hand froze. I pushed his hand away and wanted to take a little nap. I felt that he continues to touch my leg. I got scared. Again the same thoughts, like when I was 6, appeared. I thought that if I screamed, he would kill everyone in the car. Every time I pushed his hand away, he pretended to be asleep. I lost my sleep. Of course, I did not expect such rudeness: he put his hand on my leg, when I turned away. The worst thing was that his sister saw this, who was also 20 years old. Why did she not stop him? Why was I silent? I could not understand. Do you know how I realized that his sister saw this? After a short stop at a gas station, I changed my seat so that his sister was next to me. I thought that he would not bother me any longer. Damn it! When I fell asleep, I felt his hands again. I opened my eyes and saw that he was reaching me across his sister; the sister saw it and was silent. This time, I could only say «hey», and he pretended to be asleep again. This way, we came to Navoi.

My friend and I were in the metro. It was the first days of school. There were so many people. It seems like I have never seen such a crowd. My friend and I were standing in this crowd. Suddenly, someone touched my butt. I looked at my friend, she smiled, and I thought that it was her joke. It happened two or three times more. Each time my friend smiled at me when I looked at her, so I kept thinking that she was joking at me like that. Only when we started getting off the metro, I realized that it was not her, because she was walking to my left, and someone was touching from behind. I became angry, but could not turn back, because the flow did not allow me to turn around even slightly. When it became less crowded, I looked around and searched, but it was stupid, because I had no eyes on the back of my head, and in no way I could find out who did it.

It was autumn morning. I was late for college and had to catch a taxi. Yandex was not that popular back then. I do not like to catch a taxi, because it is scary, but then, I had to. A decent-looking man of 50-55 years stopped the car; he spoke mainly Uzbek, and had a strong accent in Russian. I speak both languages, so I understood him perfectly. We agreed on a price, and he insisted that I sit on the front seat, because if he agreed to my price, then he has the right to take someone else along the way. It is a standard situation. He began talking to me, and the questions followed, «Where are you going?» «Where do you live?» «When do you return usually?» I lied to him and felt anxious. The next question started a very frightening conversation. «Do you have a boyfriend?» «Yes» «Did you have an intimacy together?» (I am choosing the words, but you probably understand that everything was said with dirty words.) I told the truth that we did not. He continued, «Yesterday I was taking a couple home, they passionately kissed in my back seat, the guy touched the girl's breasts, she touched his cock». I felt very uncomfortable, wanted to interrupt him, but got scared. What if he gets angry and does something bad? I remained silent. He continued, «They kissed so passionately, I watched it with pleasure, touched myself, it felt so good. As it turned out, the guy was accompanying the girl on the way home. As she left, we spoke with the guy. It turned out that they were not intimate either, but practiced everything else». I was already sick from fear and disgust. He spoke in detail about the private life of this couple, about the anal and oral sex. I do not know how to describe it all as modestly as possible. I hope you understand. Below my breath, I said that I was not interested, and asked to stop this conversation. He ignored and switched the topic to himself, praised his cock, wanted me to touch it. He said that I should do it because it is such a pleasure, «You will like it, come on! Or do you want me to...?» Luckily, he stopped to pick up another passenger, a girl. They agreed on a price, and we drove on. At that moment, my friend finally called me (previously, I sent her an SMS asking to contact me). I talked to her like she was my father. I let the taxi driver understand that my dad was interested in whether I arrived or not, and I said loudly that I was riding in a white Matiz and was already two stops from the college. I kept talking as long as I could. Finally, we arrived; I quickly got out of the car and silently left the money. I hope the other passenger got to the destination without the problems. Unfortunately, this was not the first time. Men also harass in public transport. For example, when there are many people on the bus, you cannot not immediately understand if a man touched your butt on purpose or accidentally. However, what if you feel it more than once and you feel like someone puts a hand into your pants? You turn around and it is impossible to understand who did it. You try to change your place, but it does not work out very well. As soon as I realized who did it and wanted to start shouting and screaming, he quickly left the bus, we just stopped at a bus stop. There was another case, when in a completely empty bus a guy approached me to touch my breasts. Honestly, I was not dressed vulgarly. This is just a part of many similar incidents that happened to me in Tashkent.

On March 5, at 6 PM, a white Spark, a man of about 50. A man (client) was sitting next to him. He said that he would drive this man and take me home. I agreed. He picked me up at the Mango store near the Mustakillik intersection. We drove to Beruni. He drove a man to the Akfa medline. Returning, he picked up two guys and asked me to sit on the front seat. It would be better if I left behind with those two guys. He drove the guys to the Novomoskovskaya, and began a conversation saying compliments and stroking my knees, trying to touch my face and my hair. If I had more courage, maybe, I could stop him. However, I only had fear, pain, bitterness in my mouth, and disgust in my soul. I got home at 8 PM. I took a shower for an hour trying to wash off the traces of his hands. A lot of time has passed, but I remember everything like it was yesterday. Our Uzbek mentality controlled me saying, «Can you be wrong? Maybe, he treated you like grandfather treats granddaughter. If you tell, you will be embarrassed!» It is time for us to think about ourselves, and not about what other people would think.

I was late for work and caught a taxi instead of a bus (I did not have enough money for Yandex.Taxi). We talked with the taxi driver on neutral topics during the ride, but at some point, he started asking questions like, «Do you have a boyfriend?», «When are you free?» It seemed strange to me and I began to record all his words in Telegram, in a chat with my friends. The friend from the chat offered to call me, so that I could get to the destination peacefully. She did. However, the taxi driver stopped the car during the phone call, and drove only when I hung up. (I do not know why I did not have the idea to just jump out and run. At that moment, I was late and decided to get to work. Of course, I was scared and confused.) When we almost reached the destination, he began to harass me, insisting that I paid for the ride by sex, put his hands on my knees (I was sitting in the front seat, the taxi driver's personal belongings were on the back seat.). He tried to clench my hands and kiss them. I ended up biting him. After that, he stopped and took me to the right place.

I was going home from the theatre in a taxi. Usually, I went home with a friend and her mother on the bus, but this time, they went to another place and stopped a taxi for me. We arrived safely. We talked about my theatre (he asked where I was coming from so late at night), about his family. When we arrived at our destination, the driver turned around to take the money and saw my face (I had very problem skin with acne breakouts on it). Then, it all began: «You have many breakouts,» the driver said. «I know,» I replied. «Do you know how to get rid of them? I can advise a method,» he said. «Yes, go ahead,» I said. «You know, when a woman and a man sleep together, and a man cums inside a woman, they exchange their hormones and it helps the skin,» the driver said.

I tried to get out, pulled the handle, but nothing happened. He blocked the door. «If you want, I can help you with that,» the driver suggested. «No, thanks, there is no need,» I refused. «Come on, you will get better right away,» the driver said. He released me only after I wrote down his phone number. (I deleted it immediately. Only now, I realize that if I told my parents about this and saved his number, we could address the police.)

Hello. This is a story about harassment in a taxi. I have many of them, but I will tell you the last one. In December 2019, I was 7-8 months pregnant, lived in the city of Namangan. I went to the Macro store for groceries. I am a pretty small woman, so my belly was practically invisible. The driver, having heard the destination (usually they ask the direction, micro district or city) suggested paying for the groceries. I refused because I provide for myself (I own a small business) and I know all these tricks (it was not the first time I heard such things): «I will pay, and then we will have fun». I pointed to my stomach and said I was pregnant. He answered that it was not a big deal and turned the car to the dark street! Since I had already been in similar situations, I did not scream and fight, because I had to give birth soon. I held the door lock button and sat quietly. When he stopped near some house, I quickly got out and slammed the car door. He got scared and immediately left. I did not think of taking a picture of the license plate number.

I got in a taxi in the evening; the driver was an elderly man. He turned the other way under the pretext of a traffic jam. On the way, he asked me in detail how old I was, where my parents worked, from what city I was. (My dialect differs from the capital residents' dialect). I was 16, and answered the truth, as parents taught me. However, I felt uncomfortable. He offered to do a good thing and have a diner. Fortunately, I was smart enough to say that my father was standing at the bus stop and got out earlier. I ran to the bus stop without looking back. After that, I tell all the taxi drivers and curious people that my dad works in law enforcement. After that, my parents bought me Nokia cell phone and paid big money for communication, as it was expensive then.

I was harassed in a taxi several times: it were obsessive offers to get to know each other closer, dirty looks, demands to give my number/save the driver's number. The most significant incident, which I could not ignore and forget, happened to me when I caught a taxi near the new Tashkent Medical Academy, after school, at about 3 PM. White Cobalt with the license plate 01y625ta stopped near me. When agreeing on a price, I noticed that the driver speaks slowly and has absent look, but did not pay any attention to this, attributing it to his temperament. I sat in the back seat. About 5 minutes later, I noticed that the driver repeatedly turns to look at me. Looking closer, I saw that he was masturbating. I asked to stop the car and got out, trying not to show my fear or aggression, which could somehow provoke him. Other students told me that they also saw this driver, who stopped at the side of the road and masturbated watching the girls. Later, I ran into him again when I was going to another building of the university with my classmates. He followed us at a low speed and immediately turned the car around and disappeared when I took out my phone and started filming. Neither I, nor my friends came across him again.

At first, I felt fear and disgust. Later, the anger replaced the fear. I became even more careful. In addition to refusing to ride in the front seat and remembering license plates numbers, I added a new rule for taxi rides: to carefully watch the driver and refuse to ride if his appearance/behaviour seems strange. I try to use taxi services whenever possible, instead of catching a taxi on the street. If I find myself in this situation again, I would know how to fight back and protect myself from harassment.

In the morning, my friends caught a taxi. We were partying in a restaurant 10 minutes away from my house and I wanted to sleep very much, because we spent the whole night laughing and talking. Now, I understand that he could confuse my tiredness and drunkenness. The friends said goodbyes, hugged me; so, it was clear that I was not alone and they were accompanying me. We drove past my house. «Oh, I missed it, let us turn around, oh well, we have to go through the park,» he said. Then, I was taking the front seat, so that other passengers sat behind (there was no Yandex back then). My eyes were closing; he spoke about some shit, laughed. We stopped in the park; he quickly threw my bag to the back seat and covered me with his huge body muttering something and showing a hundred dollars. I started crying: I was being raped and this is a big trigger for me. This moron apparently lost his intensions and said, «Oh, come on». I, like many others, thought that it was my own fault. Later, going up the stairs, with each new floor, I realized the horror of the situation. The police did not help; they only called me a whore couple of times. He was about 50; he was wearing a headdress of a worshipper. Of course, he took the money for the ride.

5 PM, summertime. I left the beauty salon and caught a taxi. Another girl was sitting in the back seat. Later, I noticed that the man behind the wheel took out his penis and masturbated with a calm face. I panicked, I asked if the girl knew what was happening, if he was insane or not. I just screamed at him out of fear and left. That girl apparently did not understand Russian. I still blame myself for confusion and not getting her out.