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 came nowhere near you.
So, did he stand you up?
Yes, you. There’s no one else here, is there?
I’m here if he doesn’t show up, you know.

Her parents kept her locked up at home.
Her computer was always being watched.
Her job was located near her house.
She wasn’t allowed out on her own.
She was 33 years old.

It was me and two or three other girls on the bus.
Two of them were veiled and one was wearing the niqab.
We were all standing in a corner.
We were surrounded by men.
There was a man sitting with his legs wide open and laughing loudly.
It was as if he was the owner of the bus and could act any way he liked.

When I was in middle school, I went to a school in Al Mandara, and there was a girls' school across the street from ours. We used to finish school at the same time.

He was interviewing me. Toward the middle of the interview, he asked me, "Why do you want to work?"
"Because I like working."
"You mean you like the attention!"
Him: “Okay, you'll get the job. This is the school’s phone number, and this is my private office number."

One time, when I was in high school, I went to the hairdresser’s to get my hair done.
I was wearing a shirt that I remember well. It was all buttoned up; I wasn't trying to seduce anyone.

At the beginning, I used to sit across the table from him.
After a while, he asked me to sit next to him.
He began to make a habit out of patting me...