I’m 18 years old.
When I was 16,
I started to rebel against society.
I became defiant and started living freely.
I met a lot of people who helped me.
Other people I used to be close to,
Started drifting away,
Because they thought I was a bad person.
Just because I demanded my rights and was open about my feelings.
Noha and I are old friends.
Right before she and I started wearing the hijab, we went to rent a beach house.
Our hair was down and we were wearing summer clothes.
I can’t begin to tell you how well they treated us.
They were very respectful.
I was the last one to get her period at school.
I was 15 years old.
It was just me and one other girl left.
Everyone thought getting their period was a big deal, but not me.
My mother raised six girls.
My eldest sister got married when my father was still alive.
The rest of them got married later after he passed.
social pressure, gender violence, motherhood, work, marriage, family, parents
You gotta be a strong man.
You can’t be a teacher’s pet because that’d make you a sissy.
You gotta be clever.
And be friends with the right people.
You must have connections, and be in control.
Ahmed: “What do you think of that hottie over there?”
Amr: “Which one? The veiled one?
I love veiled women.”
Ahmed: “Really?
Why?”
Amr: “You know when you get a wrapped present,
And you take your time unwrapping it?”
Ahmed: “I’m talking about the girl walking with her, man.
Of course I wasn’t talking about that woman over there.
She looks like the potential brides my mother makes me meet.”
Amr: “Your mother makes you meet potential brides?”
Ahmed: “Yeah, man.
All the time.
She thinks they’re all like her,
Or will be like her in exactly two years.
I’ve stopped meeting them,
So, now she sends me their pictures on Facebook.”