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,

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 was in a microbus.
I got on in Al-Mandara,
And was getting off in Miami.
A woman with a child sat next to me.
I made room for her,
And looked the other way.
She moved closer to me.
Where I was supposed to go?
gender violence, harassment

It was a cursed day. I’ll never forget it.
He called me at 7 in the morning, so it didn’t seem unusual.
Long story short,
His voice suddenly changed.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.

I found out what harassment was when I was in sixth grade.
I’ll never forget that day.
I’ll never forget what he looked like.
It was in the morning and the streets were relatively empty.
He was moving behind me on a bike.
I suddenly felt his hand on my body.
gender violence, harassment, the street

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

Their looks pierce my soul.
O Allah, what should I do?
Why?
Why do people’s stares bother me?
I feel like something is attacking 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.

“Come to Alexandria and I’ll do anything you want.
Come over to my place, or to the lovers’ den,” he said.
gender violence, harassment

One day, while I was walking down the street with my daughter in her stroller,
A man groped me from behind.
I couldn’t do anything because I had my daughter with me,
But I saw him.
I knew what he looked like.
I knew where he usually hung out.