No one visited him when he was in jail for 3 years. It was a difficult time for him.
He had to go through that struggle. He had to grow up and stop depending on us being there for him.
We had to stop visiting him.
That’s why he was afraid when he got out.
He was afraid of incarceration. He was afraid of the hardship.
prison, social stigma

Every girl has an Aunt N’amaat in her life.
And every girl receives the same remarks that are repeated on various occasions:
“Come on girl, hurry up!”
“Did all the men go blind?”
“May you be in your own house next year, God willing!”

I was on the run for 5 years. I rarely stayed at home.
And when I did, I couldn’t go out into the balcony or look out the window.
I would sneak in and out of the house like a thief.
I was arrested one day when I didn’t know I was being watched.
prison, social stigma

I used to judge people by their appearance.
I would think a girl was loose if I saw one smoking a cigarette, for example.
I would also judge girls if they were wearing provocative clothes.
masculinity, social stigma, social pressure, the street

“I want to tell you something,
I’m just not sure how to say it,” he said.
He paused and then said,“Noha, you have AIDS.”
“And you?”
He said he didn’t have it.
“Fine,” I said, “What am I going to do.”

A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar  when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.

Because I did nothing wrong.
I did what I had to so no one would make fun of my orphan son.
I didn’t even forge a birth certificate. I just entered his name into the birth registry.
His parents died in an accident, and I adopted him through social services.
I mean, everyone’s in jail.
prison, social stigma, motherhood

My husband and I had five children.
We used to live in a two-bedroom apartment. We lived a good life.
He gave me a good life, God rest his soul.
He built an apartment building and said he’d reserve an entire floor for us, instead of just one small apartment.
prison, social stigma

I wore the hijab even though I wasn’t really convinced I should.
I was trying to please God, since it’s an obligation for Muslim women.
It was also a way of meeting society’s standards of being modest.

He was the type of person who fooled around with his friends.
Our sex life was weak.
We’d do it about once a year and even then he’d be tired.
I used to tell him to get treated.
That we were still young and should enjoy our youth.
Honestly, he was really kind and sweet to me.
So, I didn’t say anything.