As I was leaving Hijr-Ismail—it can get really crowded there—I felt someone shove their hand between my legs and grope me.
I immediately spun around and started punching the man behind me.
“In front of the Holy Kaaba, you kaafir?!” I screamed.

I bumped into a very polite-looking man, who looked at me very politely and asked,  "Why are you hiding your tits? Come on, give me a peek".

Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.

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!"

The first time I was sexually harassed, I was on my way back from school with my girlfriends.
It had been the last day of exams.

I remember that day well.
I also remember what I was wearing. I remember us being happy that vacation time was finally here.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

I’m wearing the wrong pants today.
Please, God, divert their attention elsewhere.
I hate them.
I hate my life.

I never ran or even moved from my place.
I remember really well,
When I’d run up the stairs,
Or run in Agamy market.

One day they brought bang snaps to school,
And they threw it at Mrs. Cherine while she was writing on the board.
She was startled and when she turned around
Two or three boys got up, closed the door, turned off the lights,

I was waiting for the tram,
When I saw them coming towards me,
And calling two others from behind.

I wish I could be like the woman in the alley.
The one who takes off her slippers and threatens to beat 14 guys in the metro,
Until they run away.