The first time I was harassed was in middle school.
My friend and I were on our way home.
When all of a sudden,
Three guys on a motorcycle,
Grabbed me from behind,
All three of them in one go.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street
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
We might see things differently,
But the guy on the outside sees my sister, my mother, and my fiance as mere “females”.
A body, a hole to fill, a corpse, a mattress,
A ride, a bang, a screw, a fuck,
A piece of meat everyone wants to tear into with their teeth
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.
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?”
Whenever I go out during Ramadan
young men who pass by me mutter,
“O Allah, I seek refuge in you from all evil and evil-doers.”
gender violence, harassment, the street
Like all girls, I’ve experienced sexual harassment many times.
By strangers in the streets, by a relative that took advantage of my innocence,
and by a brother who would spy on me in my room when I was unaware.
body image, gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, sexuality
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