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.
I was walking down the street, it was about an hour after Eid prayers, when a guy riding past on a motorcycle tried to touch me.
Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.
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.
You mean to tell me if a woman has acid thrown on her in the street and her face is disfigured, then so long as her organs are still functioning, the charge will still be ‘physical assault of a woman?’”
My sister was walking down the street,
And a guy was following her.
He kept catcalling her.
She was minding her own business.
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