She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

You know, if you weren’t a public figure that appears on TV,
And who talks about women’s rights in the papers,
I would’ve loved you, married you, and made you quit your job to be a housewife.”

“Don’t react to anything you hear.
Just keep walking.”
“Don’t talk back, no matter what.
Walk away.”
“No one knows what he could do to you.”
That’s what we’re told.
We’re told to obey.
If someone insults me,
I should just walk away.
That way he’ll keep doing what he does.

My hair is curly,
And I love it.
I’m tired of the stupid things people say to me.
Going out is one of the worst experiences ever.
I feel a knot in my stomach whenever I’m about to go out.
I don’t know if this is social anxiety.
I have self-confidence,
And I love my hair.
I wish people would accept differences.

Hair, The Street

I know how to tweeze and thread.
I'm an employee by day, but I do these things at night.
The troll I'm married to sits at home all day and doesn't make a penny to spend on the kids, and he gives me a beating every other day or so.

I can sleep for very long hours
Or become sluggish and eat all day.
Then suddenly, I can sleep very little hours, barely eat anything, finish a lot of work in such a short time, and have tremendous energy to move around.
mental health, depression, social stigma

It happened during an Arabic lesson,
Which took place at the library.
The teacher played a tape about the punishments of the grave.
I, in addition to another student, were the only Chrisitians in the classroom.
The sheikh on the tape was insulting Christianity.
So we excused ourselves from the library,
Because we didn’t like hearing those insults.

I'm bullied by my direct manager
because I'm from a small town in Behairaa and he lives in Cairo.
social stigma, bullying, work

“Go take a pregnancy test and come back, so I can start processing your papers”.

When I was in college, a joke started about someone in our group and spread throughout the entire university:
“Is that your body, Ahmed, or your mother’s?