I was leaning against a pole behind the driver’s seat, and through the crowd, I saw a man smiling at me.
I closed my eyes for a bit—I was dying to sleep—and when I opened them again, the man was standing in front of me, holding onto the pole I was leaning against.

Don’t you dare think of pressing charges like those women in the movie did.
A respectable girl would never go into a police station full of men and tell them that a man, for example, grabbed her here or touched her leg.
This country is full of incidents like these, and women never speak up. Don’t you go playing the hero

Ever since childhood, people have treated me like I’m strange, provocative.
Ever since I was a child, I never felt like all the other boys.
gender identity, gender violence, harassment, body image, sexuality, social pressure, social stigma

I once wrote an article about FGM (Female Genital Mutilation),
And wasn’t sure if I should publish it.
I decided to take my friends’ opinions,
Both male and female.
I was with a friend when he was reading the article.
His reaction was cold and strange.
We talked about FGM,
And he told me that he didn’t really understand what it was.
He didn’t understand how it happens,

And how it affects women.

He insisted on taking me to live with him and leave my mother.
“No.”
“This is the last time I’m going to say this,” he said,
“Are you coming with me?”
“No.”
He slapped me once, then twice, then three times,
Until I lost count.

I want to feel like I’m on solid ground.
Not like I’m on a piece of paper, flying about in the air.

Why are you late, missy?
What time is it?
You come home every day at 2 or 3 in the morning.

There are things that have happened,
That we refuse to admit.
Even when we remember the details.
We can never admit they’re true.
It’s just like watching a film,
That you aren’t the protagonist of.
That could never happen to me.
I’m stronger and better than that.
It’s never going to happen to me.