I’ve always wondered,
Why men’s underwear is hung on the front washing line.
Some people say, “White clothes are hung on the front line and colored clothes are hung on the last line.”

Did you see what Miss Hoda did to Sarah?
I was speaking to her from the bus window, and she was standing below.
Miss Hoda came and slapped her.

Why are you late, missy?
What time is it?
You come home every day at 2 or 3 in the morning.

It all started in 2005.
My husband hadn’t got a raise yet and I had 5 children.
We were tight on money because my husband wasn’t making enough.
I thought I should find another source of income to take care of my children’s expenses.
prison, divorce, social stigma

I am a 23-year-old guy.
I come from a well-known family.
I graduated a year ago from business school.
From the moment I was born,
My life has been full of suffering.
My father was very harsh on me and my siblings,
But I was almost the only one affected by his cruelty.
He used to beat me over the smallest mistakes.
He used to humiliate me,
Call me names in front of people,
And degrade me in front of my friends.

Hello.
Sara.
Where are you?
Still at work?
What are people going to say?
How could a respectable lady be out this late?

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.

This experience made me lose my job.
It made me lose the ability to get my money from the marketplace and give it to people.
It made me lose so many things.
My losses were financial when I entered that place. 
What I learned was to never trust anyone.
prison, work, social stigma

“Hajj, where do you want to go?
I’ll take you.”
“Help me cross the street,
To my house.”
“What’s your name?”
I told him my name.
“What’s your father’s name?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Are you not Muslim?”

I had a recurring dream when I was young,
That my mother wasn’t actually my mother,
And that my father was married to another woman,
Who looked exactly like my mother.
I don’t know why I kept having this dream.
Maybe because my mother was very hard on me,
And my father was kind.
Everyone used to say that he spoiled me.
But I didn’t see it that way.
He used to shout all the time,
And my mother used to hit me,
So I’d grow up to be a proper housewife.