I teach the first grade.
I make them go to the bathroom in groups.
One day, a boy told me,
“Ms., someone from sixth grade took a boy to the toilet,
And did bad things to him.”

There was a guy in a red car,
Who kept slowing down for me.
He kept saying something,
But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.
All I can say is that it was about a specific part of my back.

I got out of the Opera Station and I was searching for a taxi when all of a sudden someone touched my behind. When I turned to look, I saw a man in his 40s walking along, as if nothing had happened.

Two boys on a donkey were passing by.
They said some things.
I was worried about the girls who were with me.
As they passed by us,
One of the boys got close to me and pinched me.

I went out with a friend of mine to get some fresh air.
We decided to go to Crystal Café, a place we went to often, at around 6 pm.
We sat at a table, not facing the sea, near a window that overlooked Al-Shohada Street and Windsor Hotel.
Just so you know, this street is quite wide with lots of traffic; it's not quiet.

I just couldn’t wait to grow up to be a man.
Whenever I’d see women waiting in line in front of the kiosk,
I’d go press myself up against their bodies.
The most any of them would do was just walk away.

Whenever I go out during Ramadan
young men who pass by me mutter,
“O Allah, I seek refuge in you from all evil and evil-doers.”
gender violence, harassment, the street

You said I was only pretending to be a liberal,
And I turned out to be a conservative woman who had issues,
Just like any other Egyptian woman.
You said that because I refused to do what you wanted.

Inside me,
Is a man called Mohamed.
He comes out in different situations.
Like when Sara goes out alone,
Or goes out with her girl friends.

We might see things differently,
But the guy on the outside sees my sister, my mother, and my fiance as mere “females”.
A body, a hole to fill, a corpse, a mattress,
A ride, a bang, a screw, a fuck,
A piece of meat everyone wants to tear into with their teeth