I never ran or even moved from my place.
I remember really well,
When I’d run up the stairs,
Or run in Agamy market.

I was leaning against a pole behind the driver’s seat, and through the crowd, I saw a man smiling at me.
I closed my eyes for a bit—I was dying to sleep—and when I opened them again, the man was standing in front of me, holding onto the pole I was leaning against.

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 have been following the campaign for a while
I feel pain for all these girls.
I am not sure how my story will come across in comparison to all these painful stories.
I was lucky that the doctor refused to conduct the procedure,
And said, “there doesn't seem to be anything worth cutting”

The only indication that something wrong was going on was how quickly everything stopped when someone walked in, and how he told me to not tell anyone.
I used to always listen to him because he was older than me.
The more I thought about it, the less normal it felt.
I told mama when I was in the fourth grade: “He touches my breasts and my behind, and sometimes, he takes off his pants. Is that normal?"

The employee responsible for distributing the supplies came out of the office.
He wanted to pass through the women’s line.
He didn’t want to accidentally touch anyone,
So he made his way using his elbows.
Unfortunately, I was the first in line.
gender violence, physical violence, work

One day, he made the sudden decision to get rid of our television, claiming that it was “brainwashing and influencing” me.
Another time, after our first fight, he took my mobile away.
“You’re never seeing this phone again.”
He was so angry that I was afraid he’d do something to me.

We were walking down Namees street;
There was a girl coming toward us from the direction of the corniche.
It was windy, so a gust of wind blew her skirt up in the air
Exposing her legs to everyone on the street.

My father was a difficult man.
He didn't like us girls.
He only liked the boys.

One time, when I was in high school, I went to the hairdresser’s to get my hair done.
I was wearing a shirt that I remember well. It was all buttoned up; I wasn't trying to seduce anyone.