The day, since the very beginning, was filled with leery looks, catcalling, men rubbing against me, pestering me, and hands trying to grope me.
Whenever I lean forward to pick something up, everyone starts staring at my breasts.
The first taxi I stopped:
- "Garden City?"
-"Who could possibly say no to a beauty like you?"
-"Let me out here!"
A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.
I stopped wearing the hijab a few months ago.
Ramadan is approaching and I’m terrified.
I’m afraid of what my family might say.
I’m afraid of what people in the street will say.
social stigma, hijab, hair, harassment, the street, social pressure
We were on our way to Qena from Luxor.
We took the two seats behind the driver.
Our friend sat next to him.
Old men around the age of 56 sat behind us.
“I feel something strange,” the friend sitting next to me said as the bus started to move.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment
To my big nipples,
Why do you lose all feeling in bed?
Don’t you know you’re supposed to be an erogenous zone?
I feel nothing from you.
It’s as if you’re not connected to my breasts.
Not connected to my heart.
You disconnected yourself from my heart so I wouldn’t feel pain.
But I’m lacking confidence now.
beauty stadards, body image, harassment
I didn’t know what violation meant.
It all started near the ful cart.
It’s when the mosque’s sheikh made me stand next to him because it was crowded.
I suddenly found his hand on my breast.
I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew I had to get away from him.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment