We were walking down Namees street;
There was a girl coming toward us from the direction of the corniche.
It was windy, so a gust of wind blew her skirt up in the air
Exposing her legs to everyone on the street.

I saw a 7-year-old boy physically harassing a girl.
I was confused.
How did the boy know which parts of the woman’s body
to touch?
How? He’s only seven!

The French teacher, Miss Lubnah, was very sweet and petite.
She spoke in broken Arabic,
But her French was perfect.
She was a great French teacher.

"God is going to punish me for you being like that!”
I was sad that my brother, who is the closest person to me
Is treating me like I was a sin that God is going to punish him for.

Girls, I know that at this age, you like to flaunt your beauty.
“Look at my long hair!
Look at whatever!”
Here, you must forget about all those things.
The uniform you must wear is a galabiyya.
The kind your mothers wear.

As soon as the bell rang,
The boys locked the door.
I was in the neighboring classroom when it happened.
They locked the doors and windows.
They assaulted her and sexually harassed her,
Completely tearing apart her clothes.

My whole life I have felt that there is something wrong with me,
Or that something is missing.
Something everyone has, but I don’t.
Something that always makes me shy and unable to talk to people.

How are you, Sara?
How are you doing, dear?
Sara is one of a kind.
She’s extremely well-mannered.
No one is perfect but Allah, of course.
But you’re honest, kind, and well-mannered.
But you’re not perfect.