I was pushed against a wall, then I was pushed and shoved some more until I found myself inside a clothes shop on Talaat Harb Street. The attacks were random but very aggressive. I could hear gunshots.

My first divorce was because I wouldn't have sex with him,
But there were a lot of things I didn’t understand.
My family didn’t tell me anything.
I didn’t know anything at all.
To the extent that I wasn’t quite sure what the bridal cloth was for.
domestic violece; gender violence; physcial violence; sex; motherhood; addiction; social pressure; marriage; divorce

I am different than most girls, who didn't know where they were being taken
I was in 3rd year of elementary school, so I understood things.
The thing is, it was I who noticed a protrusion in that area
And I felt it between my labia,
I didn't know what that was then.

I was the only one left on the bus.
I kept banging my fists against the car to get off, but the driver wouldn’t stop.
I banged and banged and banged, but he wouldn’t stop.
I was very scared.
I thought he’d kidnap me or dump my body in an area called Al-Khour,
And no one would ever find me.
gender violence, sexual violence, social pressure

I was around 13.
We were in the countryside, where every girl had to be circumcised.
One of my mother’s relatives was a nurse, and used to perform circumcisions.
She examined me at first to check what will need to be cut,
It was the first time in my life that someone would examine me like that.

I don’t remember how old I was at the time, but I remember being old enough to understand what was going on. Old enough to say something. But I was too scared.
gender violence, sexual violence, masculinity, the street

I was 12 when I travelled with my family at the end of term to Upper Egypt.
That’s where the story began.
One day, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach,
I felt nauseous for three days straight.
That’s when my aunt, who was a 65 year old uneducated woman, decided,
“Our girl is getting older… the midwife must visit.”

How is it that he molests me, and takes away a part of me,
but I’m expected to censor myself when I tell the story?
I regret ever listening to what you had to say,
to what you call traditional or proper or haram.

I am a senior in highschool.
Yesterday, I was with my friend.
The sun was very strong,
And we were waiting for the rest of our friends.
gender violence, sexual violence, the street, harassment

I’m 27 years old. When I was 19, I left my mother’s place, taking my sisters along with me, and went to stay at my father’s.
We left because mother used to beat and belittle us.
In her mind, she owned us. She educated us. We belonged to her.