S: “Who was he?”
G: “My godfather.”
I had been searching for an apartment for a long time.
I had to sleep in his office several times.

He was like a father to me.
He’s the one that encouraged this idea.

This is not a story about street harassment.
This is a story about domestic violence.
When I was still an eight year old child,
My paternal grandfather used to touch me in a way that made me uncomfortable.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents

The streets were empty, and I was walking down a main street lined with security cameras. A car stopped next to me, and I was pulled inside.
There was an attempt to assault me. There wasn’t just one person inside the car.
I resisted and raised my voice and screamed. They threw me out of the car five minutes later.
gender violence, sexual violence, mass sexual assault

I think I was 9 or 10 years old.
I was at the marketplace with my aunt,
When a man with a crutch, and who was older than my grandfather, groped my behind.
He kept walking around in the market looking for other girls to grope.
I looked at him in disgust and anger.
gender violence, sexual violence, rape, social stigma, social pressure, 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.

My father was a difficult man.
He didn't like us girls.
He only liked the boys.

My cousin used to molest me when I was 6.
I didn’t understand until I was older.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents

The first time I was sexually harassed,
Happened when I was a grown up.
I was walking down the street at night,
About to cross the street to take a bus and go home.
Two young men were walking past me,
And they were laughing.
I didn’t feel like there was any danger,
Or that I should be afraid of them.

The French teacher, Miss Lubnah, was very sweet and petite.
She spoke in broken Arabic,
But her French was perfect.
She was a great French teacher.

I was the only one left on the bus.
I kept banging my fists against the car to get off, but the driver wouldn’t stop.
I banged and banged and banged, but he wouldn’t stop.
I was very scared.
I thought he’d kidnap me or dump my body in an area called Al-Khour,
And no one would ever find me.
gender violence, sexual violence, social pressure