Story Fifty Three: Abeer from Jordan
I was thinking of sharing my story since the beginning of this campaign but I didn’t have the courage, maybe because what happened with me is not as ugly as the other stories shared. But a few days ago something happened to me that brought everything back to my memory and made me share.
My aunt asked me why don’t you ever say hi to this person (a molester). For a brief moment I didn’t know what to say. I had forgotten the whole thing temporarily and I have deleted this man from my memory. I really didn’t know what to answer, I was scared that it would show on my face. She asked again..why? I came up with a lame excuse but inside me I wished I could share the truth. I wished that I could say this man is really not god, he is not a good man at all! He molested me when I was 9 years old, he caused me a great terror in my life, till now and even when I am 20 years old I still have the fear that someone might molest me and I wouldn’t be able to defend myself, simply because I am scared.
What happened with me was that I were a very young girl (9 years old) who loved to sleep over her grandfather’s house during vacations, even though we all lived in the same building. One day he came to my room when I was sleeping and he simply just carried me and started touching me and I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t know what to do! Shout? Hit him? I didn’t know….all I knew was I was so terrified and scared and I felt my voice has disappeared…I was shouting but there was no sound and I was just crying.
Every time he touched me.
I don’t want to go into full details or even mention how many times he molested me because its not important, what’s important is that I didn’t know how to answer the question “Why don’t you ever welcome this guest, and never want to speak to him!” Up till now I never mentioned anything of what happened with me to anyone of my family or friends because I don’t know what to expect of their reactions. Maybe my mother wouldn’t sympathies with me and maybe she wouldn’t even blame him because after all he’s a male. Every time I think that this man is still living with us in the same building I get scared. I get scared for every little girl in our family because he is there and because I know no one pays attention to his behavior just like no one did when it happened with me.
And even though I am not entirely over what happened with me, but now I am expressing my self and I object against my family’s and society’s retarded thinking without any fear, because my life is not for the society.
I am with the uprising of women in the Middle East because a woman is not a disgrace or a shame and because I always hear my father proudly flaunting my male brothers even though I am more successful in my studies and life.
I am with the uprising of women in the Middle East because I want to love a man without fear, and with the ability to share that with my family, to share that I have chosen a partner for my life and I don’t want to be a victim to honor killings.
I am with the uprising of the Middle East because I don’t want to be scared from this day on and because I am simply a human being, and because I still hear every single day something said against me as a woman.