I usually wear an abaya and a veil when I go to work.
I went in, changed, and went out.
“Come, dear. Prepare breakfast for us,” he told me.
I went out to get breakfast.
Later on he said,
“Why are you covering your hair? Take off the veil, dear.”
“I’m from the countryside. I can’t take off the veil,” I replied.
gender violence, sexual violence, work, harassment, social pressure

It happened during Eid.
I was out with my sister and cousin. They’re both younger than I am—high school students.
It was really crowded, especially in Ras el-Bar.
I made them walk ahead me; I was afraid someone would try to assault them from behind.
All of a sudden, I felt someone touch me from behind. I was taken aback and nearly burst into tears.

The harasser was a math teacher at our school. He was a very good teacher. Always smiling and nice. Always joking around. Everyone loved him, including me.
I was eleven, and there was nothing special about me. He ruined me.

The first time I was harassed was in middle school.
My friend and I were on our way home.
When all of a sudden,
Three guys on a motorcycle,
Grabbed me from behind,
All three of them in one go.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

Two boys on a donkey were passing by.
They said some things.
I was worried about the girls who were with me.
As they passed by us,
One of the boys got close to me and pinched me.

I was walking past an qahwa (local cafe).
I could see them trying to form a circle around me.
No one from the qahwa did anything to stop them.
I don’t know where that scream came from, but it made them leave.

They don’t want us to speak about what we see and hear.
They say that’s it’s improper and inappropriate.
But I’m forced to listen to it.
Why should I embellish an ugly reality?

We need to see the IDs of the people who visited you yesterday.
Yes, this is standard procedure.
The security guards need them.
We need the girls’ IDs, not the men’s.

I was on my way home from my new job.
It was my first day and I was very happy.
I boarded a bus that was empty.
An old man, older than 70, came and sat next to me.
He was as old as my grandfather.
I was talking on the phone when I saw his penis coming out of his pants.
gender violence, harassment, public transportation

The first time I told my mother that I filed a harassment report at the police station,
She screamed in shock and made a big scene.
“You’re bringing shame upon the family!”
“You’re disgracing your father even after his death!”
“How could you go to a police station?”