Something annoying happens every Ramadan.
As a woman, I’m looked at as a glitch in the Egyptian societal system.
I’m seen as a problem, just because I don’t cover my hair.
social stigma, social pressure, hijab, hair, harassment, the street
A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.
I was walking down the street, it was about an hour after Eid prayers, when a guy riding past on a motorcycle tried to touch me.
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.
She said I should have just quietly changed seats, and that there was no need for all the drama.
"Drama?" I asked. "You think I’m being dramatic? So, you think it’s okay for someone to just reach out and grope you?”
The first time I was sexually harassed,
Happened when I was a grown up.
I was walking down the street at night,
About to cross the street to take a bus and go home.
Two young men were walking past me,
And they were laughing.
I didn’t feel like there was any danger,
Or that I should be afraid of them.
I was once riding the train on my way to university in Minya.
I was wearing boots that were mid-leg. They looked a lot like those combat boots which recruited soldiers wear.
I was alone on the train, no one was sitting beside me.
I was 14, and I was walking down the street.
It was a Thursday night and the streets were busy,
And no one was paying attention to anyone.
I was crossing the street,
And someone who was passing besides me on a motorcycle,
Touched my ass.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street
“Come to Alexandria and I’ll do anything you want.
Come over to my place, or to the lovers’ den,” he said.
gender violence, harassment