I saw a 7-year-old boy physically harassing a girl.
I was confused.
How did the boy know which parts of the woman’s body
to touch?
How? He’s only seven!

I was in the third grade,
And my sister was three years older than I am.
“We’re going to the doctor’s to make sure you’re okay,” they told us.
“Why?
Are we sick?”
No one answered.

Whenever I see someone crying, especially my younger siblings,
I immediately tell them to stop.
I’m their older sibling and I must always appear strong.
They can’t cry because I can’t cry.
I have to hold it in.

I’m 25 years old.
I was circumcised when I was 11.
I was in the fifth grade then.
I knew what they were going to do,
But I didn’t know anything about sex at the time,
Or how FGM would affect my ability to have sex.
Gender violence; sexual violence; physical violence; FGM; sex

I was climbing up the stairs, and I was wearing a short yellow jacket.
I always wear it on top of my pajamas when my mother sends me to buy her stuff from downstairs.
A tall and thin man, wearing a brown jacket came and stopped me,

During my first week of college,
I used to suffer through metro rides.
I was still that naive girl,
Who hadn’t up until that point taken public transportation,
Because her school was in the same neighborhood as where she lived.

My stepfather was the first person to ever harass me.
I wasn’t even 10 years old yet.
I didn’t understand a thing.
He would sneak in at night while I was asleep.
When I’d wake up, he’d pretend to be asleep on the floor,
Or pretend to be checking on my brother.
I told my mother when I understood what was happening.
But she didn’t believe me.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents

I was late to my course.
It was the first class and I couldn’t be late.
I was walking quickly.
I was wearing regular clothes: jeans and a t-shirt.
There was a bridge next to the building where the course was.
I crossed it, according to the directions I was given.
gender violence, sexual violence, body image, the street

I was sitting on the right side,
And the old man was sitting on the left.
He was reading a newspaper,
And his right hand was hidden under it.
He had the newspaper wide open,
So that it even took up my space.

Out of nowhere, a taxi swerved and stopped right in front of me like it was a police car and I was some criminal on the run.
An elderly woman stepped out of the taxi.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing dressed like that?”
I was wearing loose-fitting blue jeans and a black t-shirt. My tightly-coiled hair hung about my face untied.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.