My father never treated me as if I were worthy of respect.
This has led to many hardships in my life.
I used to love him so much.
He married another woman when I was 13.
I felt lost then.
I was broken.

I used to tell myself that we’d be better off,
If my mama left him.
We had our share of violence.
We used to get beaten with a belt,
And any other object along the way,
Until I would pee myself.
I still remember when he broke my finger when I was young.
He wouldn’t take me to the hospital for two days,
Thinking it was just a bruise,
Then it turned out to be a fracture.

When I was in middle school, I loved my science teacher so much.
I was a good student so he, too, loved me.
During winter breaks, they always gave us a lot of homework to do.
One time during the break, I got sick and went to Cairo to get treated,
So I didn’t do the homework.

The doctor arrived,
And I was scared.
I kept begging mama to not let them do it to me.
I had some idea of what was going to happen from friends and relatives.
But unfortunately,
my grandmother’s influence was stronger than my pleas.
Gender violence; physical violence; FGM

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

I was playing down in the street the first time I was hit.
One of the girls I was playing with hit me.
I went to her house,
And started throwing rocks at it,
But she didn’t come out.
I went up to her house,
And her mother answered the door.
I went inside and started hitting her.
“Aren’t you a bold little girl?”
Her mother exclaimed.

When I was a 13-year-old girl,
My parents were a little strict with me.
But they’re my parents,
And I could never let go of them.
When I grew up,
I knew that we couldn’t function as a normal family.
I was subjected to violence by my mother and father.
My siblings too.

My father used to hit my mother and siblings.
Sometimes for a reason,
And other times, for no reason at all.
He slapped her across the face once in front of strangers,
Because he didn’t want to pay for the T.V. to get fixed.

I don’t remember my circumcision clearly.
Ever since it happened,
I’ve been avoiding thinking about anything related to my body.
I always feel like there’s something missing.
That I’m not really a girl.
My family’s strange beliefs are the reason for this.

That is why I hate my body,
Every inch of it.

My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.