'The Handmaid's Tale' is a human story, and women's rights are

Hear now the voice carried through the words of Yvonne Strahovski, who spoke of the tale woven by Margaret Atwood: “‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ is a human story, and women’s rights are human rights, and it’s all about equality, but at the end of the day, it’s not equal.” These words pierce the heart like an arrow, for they remind us of the chasm between the dream of justice and the reality of the world we inhabit. They speak of the eternal struggle between what ought to be and what is.

For “The Handmaid’s Tale” is not merely fiction, but prophecy, a mirror held up to humanity’s face. It whispers that the subjugation of women is no invention of fantasy but an ancient plague, dressed anew in every age. When Strahovski says it is a human story, she declares that the chains upon women diminish not only one gender but the whole of humankind. For when half the body is shackled, the whole cannot walk upright; when half the voices are silenced, the truth of the world is broken and incomplete.

She speaks also that women’s rights are human rights. These words echo the cry once proclaimed by Hillary Clinton before the nations: “Human rights are women’s rights, and women’s rights are human rights.” To deny dignity to one sex is not a local matter, but a wound upon all creation. The denial of equality is not an injury to women alone, but to the balance of justice, to the harmony of societies, to the moral order itself.

And yet, Strahovski reminds us of the sorrowful truth: it is not equal. The laws may be written, the declarations may be proclaimed, but still in the world women are denied safety, voice, and power. Recall the tale of Malala Yousafzai, the young girl who, in seeking only the right to learn, was met with bullets and violence. Yet she rose, and her voice thundered across nations, proclaiming that education is a right for all. Malala’s suffering proves Strahovski’s words: equality is the law of heaven, but upon the earth, it is not yet fulfilled.

Let the wise understand: it is not in grand proclamations alone that equality is won, but in the humble choices of every day. To listen to the silenced, to defend the vulnerable, to stand against cruelty—these are the stones that pave the road to justice. And in this way, every person becomes a guardian of equality, a warrior not of the sword, but of compassion and courage.

O children of tomorrow, learn this lesson well: inequality, once permitted, grows like a weed until it strangles the garden of freedom. Do not be lulled into complacency, thinking the battle is already won. For each generation must guard what has been gained, and press further still. Let not the victories of those before you be squandered, but let them be the foundation upon which you build a greater justice.

What, then, shall you do? In your homes, honor the voices of daughters as much as sons. In your workplaces, raise up fairness over favoritism. In your nations, demand leaders who cherish dignity for all. Speak when silence would betray, and act when passivity would permit oppression. Remember: equality is not a gift given once, but a flame that must be kept alive by the breath of every soul.

Thus, Strahovski’s words stand as both a lament and a summons. They grieve the distance yet to be traveled, but they call each heart to walk that path. For if you labor for human rights, if you fight for equality, then you fulfill the story not as a tragedy but as a triumph. And one day, when the balance is restored, the words “at the end of the day, it’s not equal” shall be spoken no more. Instead, the world will rise in chorus: it is equal, it is just, it is whole.