I’m a 23-year-old girl.
I graduated from college,
My siblings live abroad.
One of my brothers suddenly came back home.
That’s when I started getting beaten over every little thing.

I didn’t have a childhood.
My mother burdened me with responsibilities very early on.
Women here work on the farm,
Milk the cows,
And feed the birds.
My mother would set off to do these things,
And when she’d come back,
She’d hit me.
“Why didn’t you make dinner?”
domestic violence; gender violence; sexual violence; physical violence; parents; child marriage; divorce; work

Don’t you dare think of pressing charges like those women in the movie did.
A respectable girl would never go into a police station full of men and tell them that a man, for example, grabbed her here or touched her leg.
This country is full of incidents like these, and women never speak up. Don’t you go playing the hero

My father used to yell at me all the time.
For things like putting too much food on his plate,
Or him not liking the tea,
Or if the tea was cold.
He would even yell at me if I left the window open when it was cold outside.
I was supposed to figure out that he was cold on my own.
parents, domestic violence, gender violence

You said I was only pretending to be a liberal,
And I turned out to be a conservative woman who had issues,
Just like any other Egyptian woman.
You said that because I refused to do what you wanted.

Before it happened,
I raised my voice and fought with you,
So you wouldn’t get into the elevator with me.
I went in alone,
And you pushed the door and came in,
And reached out and touched me.

He instructed me to put on my nightgown.
I put it on, but I didn't want to leave the bedroom wearing nothing but it.
“Goddamn it,” he exclaimed, “Let’s try and get this done sometime today!”
“Your family’s waiting in the street!”
domestic violence, gender violence, sexual violence, sex education, sex work, virginity testing

When I was little, I often dreamt of a demon.
I’d bang on our front door as the demon came down the stairs.
I’d scream and my voice would catch in my throat.
My hands would grow heavier as I pounded on the door.
When I got married, I started to suspect that demon was my husband.
domestic violence, gender violence, physical violence, social stigma, work, addiction

When I was in the eighth grade, there was a boy with me at school who was blond and fair-skinned. He was a grade younger than I was.
Wherever he went, the other students would harass him. He was absent a lot because of this. His father came in to complain more than once but to no avail.

I wasn’t brave enough to tell my family that I wanted to stop wearing the hijab.
They’re Salafists,
And I could predict their reaction.
Whenever I attended tutoring lessons,
I’d look at the other girls’ clothes,
Clothes I was forbidden from wearing at that age.
I didn’t like going out most of the time,
Because people always called me an old lady,
Because of how I dressed.
That made me hate the way I looked.