I heard a girl scream as I ran towards the crowd.
I started pulling people out of the way, trying to reach her, but I was shoved out of the circle of men surrounding her every single time.

I was on a minibus.
From the window, I saw a girl running along the corniche.
She had her headphones on.
It was 5 in the evening,
And three men were running after her.
I saw them reach out to grope her.

I was harassed more than once.
I think I was in fourth grade the first time it happened.
I was on my way home with my little sister.
I sat beside someone.
He had a strange vibe.
I didn’t want to sit next to him,

One time, I was followed by a tok tok driver who shouted all sorts of obscenities at me.
“You’re disgusting”, was all I managed to muster.

One of the worst things to discover is that you're able to read the eyes of men as they look at your body.
Like when you start noticing as one guy looks at your breasts, and another at your lips, and a doorman looks at your waist, and so on.
Then you start interpreting the meaning behind these looks

I was molested by my father when I was a child.

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.

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.

I live in a rather shaabi area.
Hijab is not a choice for us, nor is it a sign of piety.
It’s only a way of averting the attention of bastards away from women in the area.
I wore the niqab for a period of time because of all the times people have touched me.
gender violence, hijab, social pressure, harassment, the street

The story about Hamada began when I started a fellowship in a reputable university.
We were six girls and two boys.
We were studying community development.
I found a message from Hamada one day saying,
“I miss you.”