I was walking down the street one time when a cargo motorcycle full of middle school boys drove past me.
One of them slapped me on my behind.
I screamed in surprise. They mimicked me and laughed.
I was 14, and I was walking down the street.
It was a Thursday night and the streets were busy,
And no one was paying attention to anyone.
I was crossing the street,
And someone who was passing besides me on a motorcycle,
Touched my ass.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, 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 don’t remember how old I was at the time, but I remember being old enough to understand what was going on. Old enough to say something. But I was too scared.
gender violence, sexual violence, masculinity, the street
We were walking down the street, holding hands.
A man passed us by and laughed in derision.
“What are you in love or something?”
social stigma, sexuality, harassment, the street
I never ran or even moved from my place.
I remember really well,
When I’d run up the stairs,
Or run in Agamy market.
No one has ever experienced what my father put me through.
It’s such a difficult thing to live through,
When you’re a kid in first grade,
And your father takes you home from school,
And beats you with a spiked rod,
Nails penetrating your entire body.
It was a long walk home,
And I was being beaten up continuously,
blood gushing out of the wounds.
All of this for something I didn’t do.
Something that wasn’t my fault.
The first time I was sexually harassed,
Happened when I was a grown up.
I was walking down the street at night,
About to cross the street to take a bus and go home.
Two young men were walking past me,
And they were laughing.
I didn’t feel like there was any danger,
Or that I should be afraid of them.