At the point when a man took an upskirt photo of Gina Martin at a music celebration she went straight to the police. Furthermore, when they shut her case, she started an appeal to get it revived, as she clarifies here.
On 8 July 2017, I was remaining in the group at the British Summer Time music celebration in London's Hyde Park having a chuckle with my enormous sister and sitting tight for The Killers to make that big appearance. Two men were remaining beside us, and in the wake of offering us a few chips (and me tolerating a couple) they turned out to be unfathomably unpleasant.
One of the men - with dull hair - was more awful than his taller fair companion. He continually made inquiries, I found him finding me and down and he was chuckling and kidding with his companion about me. At that point he rubbed up against me. I surmise that is the point at which it happened.
Eventually he put his telephone between my legs, situated his camera up my skirt and took photos of my groin without trying to hide.
At the time I had no clue what he had done. My sister and I were enthusiastically holding up to see a band we've cherished since we were young people. In any case, while we were watching the stage I saw something out of the side of my eye. The tall, fair person was taking a gander at something on his telephone and snickering. It was my groin secured by a thin segment of clothing. Despite the fact that it was a little picture, I knew it was me straight away.
I grabbed the telephone out of his hand and began yelling that he'd taken a photograph up my skirt. He shouted back at me - towering over me and pointing in my face - that it was a photo of the stage. Next, he grasped my shoulders and pushed me, requesting I give him his telephone back. I couldn't slacken his hold so I looked at the greatest number of individuals around me as I could, yelling: "Help me. Help me!"
I slipped the telephone into the hand of a young lady alongside me who I had been visiting to minutes before. He remained over her forcefully. "Give me the telephone," he spat. She cannot.
I got the attention of a youthful person who was remaining close me: "Run!" he said. So I did.
I got the telephone back and dashed through the group, crying, and speaking to individuals to let me through. I kept running as quick as possible, yet could hear him directly behind me. "Give me my telephone!" he shouted.
I made a direct path for the security staff and when they saw the state I was in - and the man pursuing me - they shaped a defensive hover around me. He kept running into them, thrashing, attempting to contact me and shouting that he hadn't taken the photo.
I endeavored to quiet him down yet it wasn't working. The security monitor instructed me to slip the telephone into his back pocket. I did.
We sat tight for a moment or two for the police to come, and I inquired as to whether we could stand closer the group and sing. I needed to imagine this wasn't going on. Security enabled us to move around three meters far from them. We remained close to the security entryway, embraced each other and constrained ourselves to move to The Killers' first tune. In actuality I was simply blubbing through each word and my sister was doing whatever it takes not to cry.
At the point when the cops arrived - a man and a lady - I did my best to clarify what had happened, despite the fact that I was an entire chaos. They were thoughtful and merciful. One of them disclosed to me I "ought to have the capacity to go to a celebration in 30-degree warmth and wear a skirt without stressing over this incident".
They isolated me and the blondie fellow and addressed him for a moment or two. When they returned over to me the male cop was remorseful - he let me know, "Lamentably, I've needed to take a gander at the photo. It indicates more than you'd like… however it's not realistic. So there's very little we can do in light of the fact that you can't see anything terrible. I will be straightforward - you won't not hear much from us."
He inquired as to whether I needed to give an announcement and I didn't feel I could at the time. I was remaining amidst a field, crying, and I could barely think. I simply needed to appreciate what was left of my (exceptionally costly) night out and stress over it later.
