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.

We were walking down the street, my sisters and I,
when out of nowhere, a guy shoots at me with one of those BB guns.
I screamed. The pellet hit my back, leaving what would later become a scar.
gender violence, the street

I was on a bus with my mother and older sister.
The bus was empty, but there was a man standing next to me.
I found his penis next to my shoulder.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

I was subjected to derisive comments on an almost daily basis.
The one I got the most was a quote from one of Mohamed Saad’s movies: “Possibly a boy, possibly a girl”.
I got that practically every day.
At the beginning, I’d usually yell and fight with the person who said it.
Until one time, I got into a fight with a guy who made fun of my hair.
masculinity, bullying, gender violence, harassment, social stigma, the street

That day, I was already a little upset.
As I was walking past a coffee shop, a guy riding a bike suddenly rammed into me, on purpose.
None of the men sitting at the coffee shop said anything.

I was driving across the May 15th Bridge on my way to Alef Bookstore. All of a sudden, I was bombarded with catcalls from a car full of seemingly drunk guys. It’s okay; this happens.

The first time I was sexually harassed, I was on my way back from school with my girlfriends.
It had been the last day of exams.

I remember that day well.
I also remember what I was wearing. I remember us being happy that vacation time was finally here.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

I don’t know where it’s going to happen next time.
I can’t predict who’s going to harass me next time.
Everyone’s a potential harasser.
They’re the reason I can’t tell anyone.

I was walking down a street with two friends of mine, and a man kept following us, saying,
“I want to fuck you” and do so and so to you. The kind of talk everyone’s familiar with.
One of my friends stopped walking and cussed him out.
gender violence, harassment, social stigma, the street

He was my father’s age,
I met him at Ramses station on my way back to Minya.
He was a professor at Ain Shams University,
And he treated me like a daughter.
He used to call me at my parents’ house to check if I needed anything.