I went out with a friend of mine to get some fresh air.
We decided to go to Crystal Café, a place we went to often, at around 6 pm.
We sat at a table, not facing the sea, near a window that overlooked Al-Shohada Street and Windsor Hotel.
Just so you know, this street is quite wide with lots of traffic; it's not quiet.

They don’t want us to speak about what we see and hear.
They say that’s it’s improper and inappropriate.
But I’m forced to listen to it.
Why should I embellish an ugly reality?

I don’t know why I’m going to tell this story,
But I’ve bottled up so much inside me.

There was a period when my parents were separated,
And my grandfather interfered a lot in our lives.
He was a very cruel man,
And so was my mother.

One time, I was followed by a tok tok driver who shouted all sorts of obscenities at me.
“You’re disgusting”, was all I managed to muster.

I’ve been sexually abused since I was 5 years old.
I can still feel his hand on me, his leers.
Without going into more details, the whole thing was creepy.
I was molested by my uncle.

Whenever I was at my grandmother’s, he’d sit close to me, touch me.
And I was stupid and didn’t understand what was going on.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, harassment

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.

He slipped his hand under the table,
Put it on my leg,
And said,
“Do you know what a man and a woman do in bed?”
To which I naively and innocently replied,
“No.”

At the bus stop,
The driver didn’t have available seats in the front, so we decided to look for another bus.
The drivers kept sending us back and forth between one another, and one of them was unnecessarily rude.
“I won’t let you get on any bus!” he told us.

I was waiting for the tram,
When I saw them coming towards me,
And calling two others from behind.

I was riding a bus headed to Faisal.
I didn’t know that area well, so I told the driver to drop me off at a specific place there.
“Sure. I’ll take you there. Don’t worry about it,” he said.
We were supposed to wait for the bus to finish loading.
But he started the ride after only a few people got on, and all of them were getting off before me.
gender violence, harassment, public transportation