I was six or seven years old.
Mama wanted me to learn a musical instrument, so I chose the piano.
She looked for a place that could teach me and found an instructor at the club.
They arranged for me and my brother to take lessons with him.

I was walking down Faisal Street with Nada.
We were on our way back from a funeral.
I could feel that Nada was waiting for someone to say something,
So she’d hit them.
I was scared.
Oh, God!

My sister was walking down the street,
And a guy was following her.
He kept catcalling her.
She was minding her own business.

My name is Khadra.
I’m 33 and I’m a middle school dropout,
But I don’t know how to read or write.
My parents passed away, and I have three kids:
Basma, Dina, and Amr.
My husband passed away too.

Whenever I go out during Ramadan
young men who pass by me mutter,
“O Allah, I seek refuge in you from all evil and evil-doers.”
gender violence, harassment, the street

I live in a rather shaabi area.
Hijab is not a choice for us, nor is it a sign of piety.
It’s only a way of averting the attention of bastards away from women in the area.
I wore the niqab for a period of time because of all the times people have touched me.
gender violence, hijab, social pressure, harassment, the street

One time, a man stood across from me for quite a while. When I turned to leave, he said, “What huge tits! I really want to suck on them.”
gender violence, harassment, the street

Their looks pierce my soul.
O Allah, what should I do?
Why?
Why do people’s stares bother me?
I feel like something is attacking me.

I bumped into a very polite-looking man, who looked at me very politely and asked,  "Why are you hiding your tits? Come on, give me a peek".

I was taking a walk with a friend down the Maadi corniche.
A military soldier sitting atop a tank decided to whistle at us.
I know that a lot of people might say,
“What’s the big deal? He just whistled. Let it go!”
the street, gender violence, harassment, sexual violence