The first time I ever talked to a girl,
Was during my second year of college.
After that,
My allowance was cut off for a while.

We were colleagues in the student union.
Nothing happened the first she called me.
But the second time,
I was in the bathroom and my phone was outside.
My father picked up.

“Hi, Ahmad.
I’m Noha from Al-Wady.
Where are you?”
I only found out when I noticed the many missed calls on my phone,
And the one call that was answered.

I looked over at my father,
Who was looking at me with disgust.
He smiled at sneakily.
The kind of smile that means I’m in trouble.
The thing with my dad is that he doesn’t punish us.
What he does is treat you very badly.
As if you’re a nobody.
He started treating me as if I was a pest.
And my sisters treated me like I was their immoral brother.

That’s something I could never understand, though.
Because at home, we all share responsibilities,
Regardless of gender.
My mother is a stay-at-home wife.
But she and my father complete each other.
They share responsibilities.
For instance,
My mother helps out at our building sites.
She takes care of the flooring,
By arranging with the handymen,
And supervising them.

So why is it considered a crime for me to talk to a girl?
It just doesn’t make sense.