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.
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
“Don’t react to anything you hear.
Just keep walking.”
“Don’t talk back, no matter what.
Walk away.”
“No one knows what he could do to you.”
That’s what we’re told.
We’re told to obey.
If someone insults me,
I should just walk away.
That way he’ll keep doing what he does.
I was waiting for the tram,
When I saw them coming towards me,
And calling two others from behind.
I was walking down a busy street one day,
When I felt someone press against my back.
There was someone embracing me from behind.
I thought it was someone I knew.
gender violence, harassment, the street
The pregnant woman, awaiting her first baby. Taking pictures of herself every month because she's thrilled with her changing body and growing belly.
She goes out to see her doctor, to see what her baby looks like now. She gets catcalled by another filthy animal. He comments on her pregnant body:
"Who did this to you?"
Or "You shameless..."
How is it that he molests me, and takes away a part of me,
but I’m expected to censor myself when I tell the story?
I regret ever listening to what you had to say,
to what you call traditional or proper or haram.