Incandescent with rage. That's what I would normally have been on hearing Yoshiro Mori's stupid thoughts jump out of his mouth. Instead, I hardly blinked and skipped blithely on to the next news item. Which was scary in itself, because such a thing failing to upset me usually means I've lost interest in the topic altogether.

But within days, the veiled notion that this blatant slight was simply a perceived one made me very quickly toss that reticence to the wind.

‘Seemed' to be a slur!

Were we on the same planet?!

“Women have a strong sense of rivalry. If one raises her hand to speak, all the others feel the need to speak, too. Everyone ends up saying something.”*

It would be hard to break this down into simpler English. Or, allowing for that "lost-in-translation” factor, simpler Japanese. And given the number of meetings where I and all the “other women” in the room have redefined the word minority, lightning striking twice could not be more resonant.

The problem?

From the point of view of a mansplainer?

We women are either invisible, or disturbing men’s dystopian fantasies by raising our voices beyond a whisper. Heaven forbid that we should hold forth at all, let alone do so confidently and comfortably. Forswearing power suits and bunion-inducing heels in favour of whatever tickles our sartorial fancy will definitely be another black mark on our record.

Who’s bothered though? Few women, I suspect. Whether our colour, size, fashion choice or delivery are an affront to men’s senses or not, at the end of the day, we have nothing to prove aside from our ability to get the job done.

We don't much fancy the lewd language, obscene jokes, constant put-downs, and hysterical laughter whenever we have a great idea you don't think viable because you haven’t suggested it. A few bright colours won’t blind anyone.

Thinking back, my reticence was perhaps less disinterest and more mental exhaustion. At hearing the same scratched record on repeat; ensuring we struggle in vain to progress past the deep grooves deliberately engraved on delicate vinyl. Even the stylus is screaming in protest.

I had long admired the land of the rising sun for their honour code; the government official who took personal responsibility for a late train and resigned being a high point! Unthought-of in so many countries!! Yet here we were, reeling from one insult and being offered another; finely garnished and on a glass platter to boot.

Mr Mori's apology not acceptable? Aww! We must replace the villain with an octogenarian with more modern views. No? Too old. Hmmm!! You ladies are hard to please. Not to worry. We have a capable 50-something woman ready to step in. Problem solved - satisfaction all round.

Unbelievable. Especially as the concept of women holding up half the sky is Far Eastern in origin. Preached but not practised at one end of the world; neither nor in the other.

Half the sky.

It is a tall order, albeit one we've been doing forever. That said, are we to continue whilst literally being shamed for having a brain and a mouth through which we convey our thoughts?

I don't think so.

Time to challenge the status quo.

Fifty or so years ago, Aretha Franklin crooned, "Just a little bit", when asking for some R.E.S.P.E.C.T.** I wager by now she'd be asking for a whole lot more. Besides, if men want ours, they best start earning it.

On International Women's Day 2021, I choose to challenge and call out gender bias and inequality.

How about you?

*Yoshiro Mori, ex head of Tokyo Olympics organising committee, explaining why meetings with female board members take a lot of time.

** Respect, sung by Aretha Franklin, 1967