My mother used to always take us to school in a taxi,
Because she’d worry about us.
She wasn’t feeling well one day,
And she made our big brother take us to school.
When we got on the bus,
We found our neighbor.
He called for me and my sister,
And he made me sit on his lap because it was crowded.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, harassment, the street, public transportation
I usually wear an abaya and a veil when I go to work.
I went in, changed, and went out.
“Come, dear. Prepare breakfast for us,” he told me.
I went out to get breakfast.
Later on he said,
“Why are you covering your hair? Take off the veil, dear.”
“I’m from the countryside. I can’t take off the veil,” I replied.
gender violence, sexual violence, work, harassment, social pressure
“Okay then. I’ll make time for you. Get the papers with you. I’ll be waiting for you.
We didn’t get the chance to know each other well.
I don’t remember you, Noha.
We’ll get to know each other tomorrow.
And I’ll see your work, of course.
I want you to introduce yourself to me tomorrow.”
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.
There was a guy in a red car,
Who kept slowing down for me.
He kept saying something,
But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.
All I can say is that it was about a specific part of my back.
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.