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?’”

I live in a rather shaabi area.
Hijab is not a choice for us, nor is it a sign of piety.
It’s only a way of averting the attention of bastards away from women in the area.
I wore the niqab for a period of time because of all the times people have touched me.
gender violence, hijab, social pressure, harassment, the street

I didn’t know what violation meant.
It all started near the ful cart.
It’s when the mosque’s sheikh made me stand next to him because it was crowded.
I suddenly found his hand on my breast.
I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew I had to get away from him.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment

My friend was walking down the street,
And she was very scared.
Three young men surrounded her,
And tried to molest her.
gender violence; harassment; the street

They don’t want us to speak about what we see and hear.
They say that’s it’s improper and inappropriate.
But I’m forced to listen to it.
Why should I embellish an ugly reality?

One of the situations I’ll never forget
Was when I was walking in the street where I live - the street is dark and not well-lit -
And a boy who works at a clinic in the building next to ours had his fly open and his penis sticking out.

One time, a man stood across from me for quite a while. When I turned to leave, he said, “What huge tits! I really want to suck on them.”
gender violence, harassment, the street

All of a sudden, a car closed in on me, and I fell off my bike.
One of my knees hurt. I decided to walk back to the starting point.
I left the bike with them and turned back.
That’s when the comments started.
“You fell down, sweetheart? I wish I were that bike.”

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 father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.