You know, if you weren’t a public figure that appears on TV,
And who talks about women’s rights in the papers,
I would’ve loved you, married you, and made you quit your job to be a housewife.”

“When I told my friends that you refused to hold my hand they asked me why I was still with you.”
“Then leave!” I exclaimed.

I’m your mother and I have your best interests at heart.
I’m telling you it’s not going to work out.
Building your lives together is not something that’ll work.

Listen, love.
Your father and I let you do everything you want.
We don’t tell you what to wear and what not to wear.
We even let you wear short dresses.
Later on, when we you tell you what to wear,
We don’t want to hear any objections from you.

I think I was 9 or 10 years old.
I was at the marketplace with my aunt,
When a man with a crutch, and who was older than my grandfather, groped my behind.
He kept walking around in the market looking for other girls to grope.
I looked at him in disgust and anger.
gender violence, sexual violence, rape, social stigma, social pressure, the street

It doesn’t matter at all.
I don’t mind if he marries another woman,
And visits me once a week,
Or even once a month!

At school, boys and girls were separated.
The boys would watch the girls going home,
And choose one to send a letter to.
Then they’d be together.

Whenever I see someone crying, especially my younger siblings,
I immediately tell them to stop.
I’m their older sibling and I must always appear strong.
They can’t cry because I can’t cry.
I have to hold it in.

I’m passive, weak, uneducated.
Veiled from head to toe.
One of his four wives.
Work in the kitchen all day.
And spread my legs wide at night.
That’s what you think, right?

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.