How do you not know that he smokes, madame?
Cigarettes, Fady? Why? How old are you?
Why, son, why? What have we done for this to happen?
How long have you been smoking? Is this your box?
This is not a story about street harassment.
This is a story about domestic violence.
When I was still an eight year old child,
My paternal grandfather used to touch me in a way that made me uncomfortable.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents
I remember during my early teenage years,
When I’d go the beach with my family.
I was 2 or 3 kilos overweight.
Mama has been commenting on my weight and the way my body looks ever since.
body image, parents, bullying
Mama asked me what I thought about her and baba getting a divorce.
“That means he won’t watch TV with us anymore”, I said.
Why hit me for peeing myself,
When she could’ve tried to figure out why I was struggling with it?
Why hit me for putting on lipstick as a child,
When she could’ve just told me not to?
Why hit me with belts, cables and shoes,
When she could’ve reasoned with me?
I’m still living my story.
It started when baba made me break off my engagement,
To the man I loved,
Because they had a disagreement.
“God will be pleased with you,
Because you’re doing as I say,” he told me.
I am a mother now.
I didn’t realize how tired I’d be.
I didn’t know what the fear would be like.
Because mothers get scared.
When I was a child,
I didn’t know how scared my mother would get,
When dealing with a situation.
Or that she did certain things out of fear.
The kind of fear mothers experience is present 24/7.