I’m tired of my parents.
I don’t know why some people feel bad for orphans.
Maybe their lives are much better without parents.
I don’t want my parents.
They don’t do anything for me.
I don’t spend time with them.

My mother used to always take us to school in a taxi,
Because she’d worry about us.
She wasn’t feeling well one day,
And she made our big brother take us to school.
When we got on the bus,
We found our neighbor.
He called for me and my sister,
And he made me sit on his lap because it was crowded.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, harassment, the street, public transportation

I was crossing El-Tagneed Street one morning, it was ten minutes to 7:00, when suddenly, a man driving past in a car spanked my behind.

This is just a small sample of the number of incidents I’ve been through,
And was never able to tell anyone,
Because I would’ve been blamed.
gender violence; sexual violence; harassment; child molestation; the street

Since Ramadan is coming up, I'd like to share my story as a Christian, Egyptian male born and raised in Egypt.
I remember one day in Ramadan, I thought I would dare society and drink water publicly.
I was stopped by an old man.
He had been walking and stopped. He pointed at me from across the street.
social stigma, social pressure, the street

I was late to my course.
It was the first class and I couldn’t be late.
I was walking quickly.
I was wearing regular clothes: jeans and a t-shirt.
There was a bridge next to the building where the course was.
I crossed it, according to the directions I was given.
gender violence, sexual violence, body image, 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.

We were walking down the street, my sisters and I,
when out of nowhere, a guy shoots at me with one of those BB guns.
I screamed. The pellet hit my back, leaving what would later become a scar.
gender violence, the street

“I want to lick your pussy,”
He said in a disgusting whisper.
It was 2 in the afternoon,
In a relatively wide street.
I turned around,
And my body froze.
I wanted to vomit.
Sexual violence; harassment; the street

We were listening to music on the beach,
When three guys came and sat in front of us.
We got up and went for a walk,
But they came after us.
I kept yelling at them,
But they kept following us.