The first time I told my mother that I filed a harassment report at the police station,
She screamed in shock and made a big scene.
“You’re bringing shame upon the family!”
“You’re disgracing your father even after his death!”
“How could you go to a police station?”

I was once riding the train on my way to university in Minya.
I was wearing boots that were mid-leg. They looked a lot like those combat boots which recruited soldiers wear.
I was alone on the train, no one was sitting beside me.

I was on the tram on my way to Ain Shams University.
The tram was a bit crowded.
A girl, who seemed older than 25, came and stood next to me.
I was holding on to the rail because I have a disability.
She pushed her breasts against my arm.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, public transportation

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

I was taking a walk with a friend down the Maadi corniche.
A military soldier sitting atop a tank decided to whistle at us.
I know that a lot of people might say,
“What’s the big deal? He just whistled. Let it go!”
the street, gender violence, harassment, sexual violence

Every time I walk down the street
I’m scared some pig will beat me up,
Or throw acid at me,
Or harass me,
Because the look on their faces is terrifying

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

I came nowhere near you.
So, did he stand you up?
Yes, you. There’s no one else here, is there?
I’m here if he doesn’t show up, you know.

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.