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.
My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.
As I was leaving Hijr-Ismail—it can get really crowded there—I felt someone shove their hand between my legs and grope me.
I immediately spun around and started punching the man behind me.
“In front of the Holy Kaaba, you kaafir?!” I screamed.
“Let’s take a photo the Lebanese way! Stand like this.”
I did as she said and I thought I must’ve looked funny, and that people would think I was a slut because I was trying to flaunt my breasts.
body image, harassment
I was on my way home from my new job.
It was my first day and I was very happy.
I boarded a bus that was empty.
An old man, older than 70, came and sat next to me.
He was as old as my grandfather.
I was talking on the phone when I saw his penis coming out of his pants.
gender violence, harassment, public transportation
During my first week of college,
I used to suffer through metro rides.
I was still that naive girl,
Who hadn’t up until that point taken public transportation,
Because her school was in the same neighborhood as where she lived.