I stopped wearing the hijab a few months ago.
Ramadan is approaching and I’m terrified.
I’m afraid of what my family might say.
I’m afraid of what people in the street will say.
social stigma, hijab, hair, harassment, the street, social pressure

Every time I walk down the street
I’m scared some pig will beat me up,
Or throw acid at me,
Or harass me,
Because the look on their faces is terrifying

I used to wear skirts and blouses.
I had a good body, and my breasts were relatively perky.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

I use a bike to get around because I like sports and because it saves time.
People can’t tell I’m a girl when they see me from behind,
Because I wear a backpack and loose clothing.
That way no one pays me any attention..
But the verbal harassment starts as soon as they see my face.
gender violence, social stigma, harassment, the street

I was walking down Faisal Street with Nada.
We were on our way back from a funeral.
I could feel that Nada was waiting for someone to say something,
So she’d hit them.
I was scared.
Oh, God!

As soon as the bell rang,
The boys locked the door.
I was in the neighboring classroom when it happened.
They locked the doors and windows.
They assaulted her and sexually harassed her,
Completely tearing apart her clothes.

My mother used to always take us to school in a taxi,
Because she’d worry about us.
She wasn’t feeling well one day,
And she made our big brother take us to school.
When we got on the bus,
We found our neighbor.
He called for me and my sister,
And he made me sit on his lap because it was crowded.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, harassment, the street, public transportation

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.

I never physically harassed a woman.
When I would like a girl, I would go speak to her.
It satisfied my ego.
That was until I saw a girl being harassed in the street.

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?”