How can I possibly talk about just one harassment incident,
When I get harassed more than three or four times a day?
My life is full of harassment incidents.
gender violence, harassment, the street

We were in middle school.
It wasn’t a very good school—Omar el-Khattab School.
Sadly, it never lived up to its name.
A third grade teacher was molested in class.
Everyone heard about the incident.
She saw some students masturbating in class,
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, mass sexual assault, sex, school, sex education

Ahmed: “What do you think of that hottie over there?”
Amr: “Which one? The veiled one?
I love veiled women.”
Ahmed: “Really?
Why?”
Amr: “You know when you get a wrapped present,
And you take your time unwrapping it?”
Ahmed: “I’m talking about the girl walking with her, man.
Of course I wasn’t talking about that woman over there.
She looks like the potential brides my mother makes me meet.”
Amr: “Your mother makes you meet potential brides?”
Ahmed: “Yeah, man.
All the time.
She thinks they’re all like her,
Or will be like her in exactly two years.
I’ve stopped meeting them,
So, now she sends me their pictures on Facebook.”

Walk like a soldier.
Don’t you know how soldiers walk?
Eyes straight.
Back straight.
No swaying.

I was going home after practice dressed in sports clothes.
Two men were checking me out in the street:
“Is that a girl or a boy?”
“It’s a girl, man.”

Before it happened,
I raised my voice and fought with you,
So you wouldn’t get into the elevator with me.
I went in alone,
And you pushed the door and came in,
And reached out and touched me.

It happened during Eid.
I was out with my sister and cousin. They’re both younger than I am—high school students.
It was really crowded, especially in Ras el-Bar.
I made them walk ahead me; I was afraid someone would try to assault them from behind.
All of a sudden, I felt someone touch me from behind. I was taken aback and nearly burst into tears.

“Okay then. I’ll make time for you. Get the papers with you. I’ll be waiting for you.
We didn’t get the chance to know each other well.
I don’t remember you, Noha.
We’ll get to know each other tomorrow.
And I’ll see your work, of course.
I want you to introduce yourself to me tomorrow.”

I was walking down the street one time when a cargo motorcycle full of middle school boys drove past me.
One of them slapped me on my behind.
I screamed in surprise. They mimicked me and laughed.

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