I use a bike to get around because I like sports and because it saves time.
People can’t tell I’m a girl when they see me from behind,
Because I wear a backpack and loose clothing.
That way no one pays me any attention..
But the verbal harassment starts as soon as they see my face.
gender violence, social stigma, harassment, the street

One time, after a hectic day at work, I got my bike out to ride around for a bit. I wanted to enjoy the night breeze.
While I was cycling, a disgusting creature on a motorcycle grabbed my behind. “Isn’t what you’re doing inappropriate?” he asked.

I still can’t forget the look on his face as he passed me by in a toktok after he had touched me from behind.
“Take that”, he said.
That was the first time I was sexually harassed. I was 15.

Ali: “Fuck that, how could my wife wear a swimsuit like this one?
And stand in front of men, while they look at her thighs?
Does it not bother you, Sherif, the idea of your wife wearing a swimsuit?”

I could never forget,
How in the midst of the screams, beatings, killing,
The fires and tear gas in Tahrir,
I felt your hand violating me.

It happened during Eid.
I was out with my sister and cousin. They’re both younger than I am—high school students.
It was really crowded, especially in Ras el-Bar.
I made them walk ahead me; I was afraid someone would try to assault them from behind.
All of a sudden, I felt someone touch me from behind. I was taken aback and nearly burst into tears.

She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

I was at one of my cousin’s wedding.
The wedding was in a garden on the nile.
I was 10 years old.
I was walking,
And behind me was a group of children who were no older than 8 years old.
I felt something in my behind,
But I didn’t know what was happening,
And I didn’t give it much thought.

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

We were on our way to Qena from Luxor.
We took the two seats behind the driver.
Our friend sat next to him.
Old men around the age of 56 sat behind us.
“I feel something strange,” the friend sitting next to me said as the bus started to move.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment