I am a senior in highschool.
Yesterday, I was with my friend.
The sun was very strong,
And we were waiting for the rest of our friends.
gender violence, sexual violence, the street, harassment

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

Walk like a soldier.
Don’t you know how soldiers walk?
Eyes straight.
Back straight.
No swaying.

Ali: “Fuck that, how could my wife wear a swimsuit like this one?
And stand in front of men, while they look at her thighs?
Does it not bother you, Sherif, the idea of your wife wearing a swimsuit?”

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?”

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.

She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

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

We were listening to music on the beach,
When three guys came and sat in front of us.
We got up and went for a walk,
But they came after us.
I kept yelling at them,
But they kept following us.

We were walking down the street, holding hands.
A man passed us by and laughed in derision.
“What are you in love or something?”
social stigma, sexuality, harassment, the street