“Okay then. I’ll make time for you. Get the papers with you. I’ll be waiting for you.
We didn’t get the chance to know each other well.
I don’t remember you, Noha.
We’ll get to know each other tomorrow.
And I’ll see your work, of course.
I want you to introduce yourself to me tomorrow.”

I found out what harassment was when I was in sixth grade.
I’ll never forget that day.
I’ll never forget what he looked like.
It was in the morning and the streets were relatively empty.
He was moving behind me on a bike.
I suddenly felt his hand on my body.
gender violence, harassment, the street

I was still in my first year of highschool.
I was in the metro, and it was really crowded.
Someone came and stood really close behind me.
I was so anxious and confused that I wasn’t able to say anything.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, public transportation

One time when I was in 10th grade, I got home and my father came home half an hour later.
He went to his room as soon as he got home.
I was going to the kitchen to drink water when I saw him in his room with his hand inside his blue pants.
He was masturbating.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, parents

She said I should have just quietly changed seats, and that there was no need for all the drama.

"Drama?" I asked. "You think I’m being dramatic? So, you think it’s okay for someone to just reach out and grope you?”

My body started looking different when I hit puberty.
I started getting comments from the people around me.
About the weight I gained,
And humiliating and disgusting comments about different parts of my body.
body image, harassment, the street

I entered the women’s metro car, and as usual, found men there.
Usually I fight them, but that day I wasn’t feeling well, so I said nothing.

I was fed up with his silly blabber.
He didn’t stop talking the whole ride.
I remembered the stories I heard about taxi drivers.
I had one hand on the handle as he chattered away.

I went out with a friend of mine to get some fresh air.
We decided to go to Crystal Café, a place we went to often, at around 6 pm.
We sat at a table, not facing the sea, near a window that overlooked Al-Shohada Street and Windsor Hotel.
Just so you know, this street is quite wide with lots of traffic; it's not quiet.

One of the worst things to discover is that you're able to read the eyes of men as they look at your body.
Like when you start noticing as one guy looks at your breasts, and another at your lips, and a doorman looks at your waist, and so on.
Then you start interpreting the meaning behind these looks