That day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone,
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, Shaimaa.
They were sisters.

We were on our way back from a trip.
An officer got on the bus.
“Is she your sister?” he asked the person next to me.
“No, we’re friends,” he replied.
“Friends? What kind of friends?”

I was walking down a street with two friends of mine, and a man kept following us, saying,
“I want to fuck you” and do so and so to you. The kind of talk everyone’s familiar with.
One of my friends stopped walking and cussed him out.
gender violence, harassment, social stigma, the street

I was in a taxi with one of my friends.
It was nighttime.
And on the way, close to the police station in Nasr City,
An officer got up to stop our taxi when he realized a boy and a girl were sitting next to one another in the backseat.

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

I’m 24 years old.
I’ve had low self-esteem ever since I was 13 because of my weight.
People always stare at me and make fun of me because I’m fat.
“Will you be the one breastfeeding the kids when you’re married?”
body image, social stigma, bullying

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

Her family thought she was a slut.
They thought she had sex with him.

Her sister was positive she did something bad with him.
Otherwise she wouldn’t be insisting on marrying him.
She must be trying to cover up what she did.

I visited my uncle a few days ago.
My uncle’s well-off, and I ask him for help whenever things get tight.
I received a call from my aunt the other day. She told me that my uncle didn’t want me to visit anymore.
prison, social stigma

I used to always watch her from the examination room window in the government hospital that I worked at.
Her name was Sokkara. She was young. She couldn’t be older than 13 years old.