You would need a heart of stone not to be moved by the emotional testimony of Azeem Rafiq this week.
The former cricketer spoke in harrowing detail about the racist abuse – some of it at the hands of Yorkshire teammates – he suffered as a player. So much so he would not want his son anywhere near the English game which he called “institutionally racist”.
There were so many takeaways from Azeem’s testimony. One of the things that struck me the most was just how much of this battle he’s had to fight alone.
These incidents go back years. He’s had to fight to be heard and fight to not be dismissed as a “problem” that needs to be fixed, even though he was the victim.
It’s been described as a watershed moment for the game. Where does it go from here? More than 1,000 people have already come forward with other stories of discrimination, and this could just be the tip of the iceberg.
One of the key questions it raises for me is why it always falls to the victims, and them alone, to fix things, and not the perpetrators or the institutions around them.
Watching Azeem’s testimony, I was reminded of the time when, in a work environment, I heard someone make a racist comment. It was about someone in America, they didn’t use a slur, it was more subtle than that but it was enough to make me see red.
I furiously stood up and told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of his comments.
I, not him, was eventually ushered away into a side room to cool off. I was given an opportunity to explain what had happened before the perpetrator came in and apologised profusely.
Then came the awkward part. Did I want to lodge an official complaint? If I did, that would involve writing a formal letter to HR followed by an investigation which would be long and drawn out. If the person was found guilty they could, after many years at the company, be sacked. At the very least it was something that would remain on their permanent record.
Suddenly the onus was on me to decide if I wanted to potentially ruin the career of this “family” person. Or would I be happy to accept their apology and promise that something like this will never happen again?
I chose the latter. I’d said what I needed to say in front of the whole office and quite frankly, I didn’t want the end of his career on my conscience.
But the bottom line is that it shouldn’t have been down to me to effectively “press charges”. It should have been taken out of my hands and investigated regardless.
Too many times – and we’ve also seen it with sexual abuse claims, it’s down to the victim alone to fight for what is right. They then run the risk of being labelled “difficult” or a “trouble maker” which is what happened to Azeem.
As the world of cricket talks about change, it’s a time for all organisations to think about having processes and procedures in place so that people who are on the receiving end of abuse are supported and not left to fend for themselves as Azeem sadly was. Start putting victims first instead of last.
