My first experience with harassment was, unfortunately, from the person closest to me.
That person also happened to be my cousin who was a few years older than me. 
She would spend the summers at our place, and my parents would go to work.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment

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.

How can I possibly talk about just one harassment incident,
When I get harassed more than three or four times a day?
My life is full of harassment incidents.
gender violence, harassment, the street

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.

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

I was 14, and I was walking down the street.
It was a Thursday night and the streets were busy,
And no one was paying attention to anyone.
I was crossing the street,
And someone who was passing besides me on a motorcycle,
Touched my ass.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

Two boys on a donkey were passing by.
They said some things.
I was worried about the girls who were with me.
As they passed by us,
One of the boys got close to me and pinched me.

Inside me,
Is a man called Mohamed.
He comes out in different situations.
Like when Sara goes out alone,
Or goes out with her girl friends.

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.

I could never forget,
How in the midst of the screams, beatings, killing,
The fires and tear gas in Tahrir,
I felt your hand violating me.