My looks didn’t concern me when I was entering into journalism.
I told myself that as soon as I speak and show my personality,
I’ll draw everyone’s attention.
I was making my way out of the Ramses metro station—I lived in Shubra at the time.
I was wearing a maxi skirt and a long sleeved shirt, and my hair was tied back into a bun.
I look disheveled.
gender violence, sexual violence, social pressure, public transportation
Studying is something I’ve been used to doing ever since I was young. I feel like something’s missing if I don’t study.
Or I feel unsafe.
Despite this, I actually hate studying!
No matter how much I study, mama always thinks that I’m playing, and that I don’t care about my studies.
She thinks extracurricular student activities, meetings, and conferences are useless!
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
I was the only one left on the bus.
I kept banging my fists against the car to get off, but the driver wouldn’t stop.
I banged and banged and banged, but he wouldn’t stop.
I was very scared.
I thought he’d kidnap me or dump my body in an area called Al-Khour,
And no one would ever find me.
gender violence, sexual violence, social pressure
Am I ugly? Yes, I wasn’t beautiful, or maybe that’s what they wanted me to believe.
I was chubbier than them. I wasn’t good at socializing like them. They made me think I was different.
body image, bullying, school, social pressure, beauty standards