I was released by the 4th night.
I went home, carrying the clothes and stuff I had with me in jail.
I knocked on my family’s door.
I needed to go to the bathroom. I wanted to shower and all that.
prison, social stigma, marriage

They’re not all deceitful in there.
Some people are good, while others are bad.
Some people visited me when I was arrested.
They stood by me and visited my children when I received my sentence.
prison

Mother’s day in there was such a terrible day for me, to be honest.
My mother is very special to me. May she rest in peace.
Only those who have lost their mothers will understand the feeling.
prison, parents

At first, I thought I wouldn’t survive prison.
But in fact, the experience made me stronger.
I didn’t need help from anyone.
I unloaded things at the prison gate, worked as a yard cleaner and a cook.
Everyone would tell me that I wouldn’t be able to make it in there.
prison

He was always suspicious of me.
Whenever he went out, he’d wedge a single hair between the door and the doorframe.
When he’d get back home, he’d check the door to see if I’d gone out.
His suspicions were very hard to deal with.
When God was going to bless us with a baby, my husband gave me an ultimatum: “It’s either me or the baby.”
So, I went and got an abortion.
motherhood, social stigma, domestic violence, prison, physical violence

We were transferred on the first day.
We didn’t know if we were going to be transferred or not.
We found out when someone called the police station.
We found out that we were going to the Qanater prison.
I remember my expectations of that place.
prison

No one stood beside me, even though I’ve always stood beside everyone.
I stood beside my siblings, husband and my parents-in-law. But no one stood beside me.
I had to depend on myself in there.
prison

The police officer was saying the most disgusting curse words when he was interrogating me.
I got my period at that moment.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Blood,” I said.
prison, social stigma

I was still under investigation when I went to prison.
One of the police officers was called Mofeed. He was a decent man, to be honest.
I saw a 20-year-old girl coming in.
Those kids are considered juveniles until they turn 18. 
prison, physical violence

When I got out I felt like I was in a circus.
There was an implicit collective agreement to not talk about it.
And to surrender to depression.
I didn’t like that.
No one could understand what it was really like.
prison