Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.

We were at a conference.
Later at the hotel,
As we were going back to our rooms,
One of my colleagues told me,
“I’m staying in room 13.”
gender violence, harassment, work

The first time I was sexually harassed,
Happened when I was a grown up.
I was walking down the street at night,
About to cross the street to take a bus and go home.
Two young men were walking past me,
And they were laughing.
I didn’t feel like there was any danger,
Or that I should be afraid of them.

Every time I walk down the street
I’m scared some pig will beat me up,
Or throw acid at me,
Or harass me,
Because the look on their faces is terrifying

Unlike most girls, I never had any expectations or dreams about my wedding night. Nor did I exert any effort to think of what would happen once I was alone with my husband—whom I hardly knew—for the first time.

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.

I don’t remember how old I was at the time, but I remember being old enough to understand what was going on. Old enough to say something. But I was too scared.
gender violence, sexual violence, masculinity, the street

I could never forget,
How in the midst of the screams, beatings, killing,
The fires and tear gas in Tahrir,
I felt your hand violating me.

As I walked down the street, a man my father's age tells me "Is your cunt as beautiful as you are?"
As I walked down the street, a guy from behind touches me and says, "I want to rub my penis against you"
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

When I was 15 years old, there was a guy who was always out to get me.
gender violence, sexual violence, the street