I used to always watch her from the examination room window in the government hospital that I worked at.
Her name was Sokkara. She was young. She couldn’t be older than 13 years old.
Inside me exists a traditional girl,
Whom I call Souad.
Souad dreams of meeting “the one”.
She wants a groom, a wedding, etc.
She lives in this fantasy world,
And dreams up every little detail of her wedding.
And when she listens to certain songs,
She imagines dancing to them at her wedding in her white dress.
romantic relationships, marriage
“I want to tell you something,
I’m just not sure how to say it,” he said.
He paused and then said,“Noha, you have AIDS.”
“And you?”
He said he didn’t have it.
“Fine,” I said, “What am I going to do.”
I have always been overweight,
And my family comments about my body all the time.
I used to feel like I was public property,
That anyone could look at me and my body and call me,
“Fat” or “chubby”.
I was the butt of jokes at family gatherings,
Which I hated more than anything.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, marriage
I got married to an old man I didn’t consent to marrying.
Of course, this is how it is in the country.
They act without taking a girl’s consent.
I felt sorry for myself because they married me off to an old man.
gender violence, marriage, divorce, motherhood
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.
In middle school,
I used to love wearing shorts and dancing in front of the mirror.
My mother would smack me.