I got breast reduction surgery,
Because I’m sick and tired of the things people say to me;
Men and women.
Walking down the street with my husband,
I hear things like,
“What huge breasts!”
And “He’s so lucky!”
I ask him not to fight with them.
I tell him it’s not worth it.
body image, sexual violence, gender violence, harassment, the street

My name is Khadra.
I’m 33 and I’m a middle school dropout,
But I don’t know how to read or write.
My parents passed away, and I have three kids:
Basma, Dina, and Amr.
My husband passed away too.

I was riding a bus headed to Faisal.
I didn’t know that area well, so I told the driver to drop me off at a specific place there.
“Sure. I’ll take you there. Don’t worry about it,” he said.
We were supposed to wait for the bus to finish loading.
But he started the ride after only a few people got on, and all of them were getting off before me.
gender violence, harassment, public transportation

I was there when the catcalls on the streets started changing from “Hey, honey” to “I want to put my **** in your ****”!
I was there when they silenced everyone, and no one spoke,
I thought I was experiencing these things alone,
I hated my body, my femininity, and my life.

I teach the first grade.
I make them go to the bathroom in groups.
One day, a boy told me,
“Ms., someone from sixth grade took a boy to the toilet,
And did bad things to him.”

You mean to tell me if a woman has acid thrown on her in the street and her face is disfigured, then so long as her organs are still functioning, the charge will still be ‘physical assault of a woman?’”

The incident took place in the microbus one morning.
A woman who was sitting next to me and speaking on the phone put a hand on my leg and started feeling me up.
gender violence, child molestation, harassment, public transportation

Don’t you dare think of pressing charges like those women in the movie did.
A respectable girl would never go into a police station full of men and tell them that a man, for example, grabbed her here or touched her leg.
This country is full of incidents like these, and women never speak up. Don’t you go playing the hero

I was six or seven years old.
Mama wanted me to learn a musical instrument, so I chose the piano.
She looked for a place that could teach me and found an instructor at the club.
They arranged for me and my brother to take lessons with him.

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.