I found out what harassment was when I was in sixth grade.
I’ll never forget that day.
I’ll never forget what he looked like.
It was in the morning and the streets were relatively empty.
He was moving behind me on a bike.
I suddenly felt his hand on my body.
gender violence, harassment, the street

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

The story about Hamada began when I started a fellowship in a reputable university.
We were six girls and two boys.
We were studying community development.
I found a message from Hamada one day saying,
“I miss you.”

I was a senior at the time. I was wearing a long blouse over a skirt. A microbus passed by and the driver said, “What a huge a—”, and you can imagine the rest!
gender violence, harassment, the street

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

I was around 7 or 8 years at the most.
All I knew then was that there are parts in our body that "strangers" should not see or touch.
What I came to know later is that most sexual assaulters are people who are very close to you.

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.

It was the second year of college.
I was going through a lot of problems at the time.
They were either related to college, home, or relationships.
I used to talk to and confide in a spiritual guide who knew my family.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment

It was a cursed day. I’ll never forget it.
He called me at 7 in the morning, so it didn’t seem unusual.
Long story short,
His voice suddenly changed.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.

“Why did you go there?”
Whenever someone asks me that,
I feel as if they only see me as a piece of meat that should be covered.
I get the urge to just cut parts off my body whenever I walk down the street.