February 6th, 2010. 7:36 P.M. Three instances of harassment, all within three minutes of each other. I'm walking home in the Nasr City district on Abbas el-Akkad Street, notorious for its rush hour, every hour. It is not often that I walk in Cairo, but between short distances in neighborhoods I feel safe, I try to stay out of taxis and use my feet. Maybe nostalgic of the common mode of transportation in my birth city, New York; maybe yearning just to see the streets at my own pace, through my own eyes and not from behind a fingerprinted cab window, I walk. Not far from home, I have my headphones in my ears, which multitask between playing music and blocking out unwanted verbal attention, I'm wearing a long black sweater, a scarf over my head to protect my hair from the rain coming down and dark jeans. From the corner of my eye I notice what seems to be an inexpensive red car of four young men driving very slowly beside me. Cars behind them are honking to urge them to move with traffic, all to no avail. I hear them blowing kisses at me and shouting out catcalls, but I can't make out what they are saying. I don't want to. I keep moving, trying my best to ignore them; I even cross the street to walk on the other side, but sure enough, they follow. The volume of the music in my ears gets higher; I raise my eyebrows and walk with a stern face, but it seemed that the stiffer I get, the more amusing my discomfort for my supposed audience. When they got ahead of me and stopped their car for one of them to come out and approach me, I lost it. Filled with rage and disgust and annoyance, I screamed at them the first thing that came out, with no thought. F*CK OFF. The expression on the harasser's face went from lustful to a shocked smile, not expecting the reaction I lashed at him with. Even more so that it was not in Arabic, but in English. He stood by the car as I quickened my pace to get home, calling my younger brother to keep his comforting voice in my ear. As if talking to him on the phone protected me, even if only mentally. Egyptian men are protective by nature, regardless of age. This only adds to the irony behind the prevalence of sexual harassment on the streets. I walk around the corner, one more side street, just one more minute to home. Seconds later, I pass by a car whose driver whispered a flirt at me. Directly followed by that, just a few steps later, a car stops in front of me, the driver, a man old enough to be my father, leans over the passenger seat and rolls down his window. He looks at me straight in the eye after looking me up and down, and asks in Arabic, “Bi kam?” “How much.” I lived in the old Egypt; the pre-revolution, Mubarak Egypt and I experienced sexual harassment on a daily basis, at all hours. Walking to my bus stop at 8 in the morning, I would get harassed, as well as at 1 or 2 AM during the few steps I'd take from my friends' cars to my building after a night out. Each time brings an unfortunately familiar mix of feelings, ranging from disgust to rage to loss of dignity. A completely dreadful, degrading feeling that needs much work for progress in the right direction. Old men as well as prepubescent boys harass their female counterparts, making Cairo streets safe and comfortable only for males. Because of this, many women avoid walking completely. This limited mobility widens the gender gap and hinders women's opportunities to get an education, work, socialize; move around their country freely. This is especially applicable to the lower and middle class, who compose Egypt's majority and cannot all afford private cars or cab rides every day; automatically undermining the status of women and roles in society they are capable of fulfilling. The issue of sexual harassment in Cairo, with its numerous causes and effects, is just one example of Egypt's many deep-rooted societal ailments, and it spirals back down to the Mubarak regime and its oppressive chokehold over the people. This complex issue is defined by such a large problematic cycle under which the oppressed live and no one is immune or exempt from unless the problem is tackled and uprooted from its very core. In my opinion, the dangerous, sensitive web of factors that were (before the revolution, must stay optimistic) a part of everyday life are all correlated. The greed of Mubarak's corrupt government kept the majority of Egypt impoverished for too long. 61 percent of the country's population was under 30 years old in a survey taken in 2010, 37 percent of the population between ages 15-29 not working and not going to school. Devastating statistics coming from one of the world's oldest civilizations. This high rate of unemployment has sparked up an intense economic frustration among the youth, one of the main forces behind the revolution. Add to the equation that much of Egypt's employment is through nepotism, wasta in Arabic, which poses conflict for those who have no connections at all. By these terms, the tiny though powerful elite remain as they are, and the rest under the enormous umbrella are invisible. Because this was how Egypt functioned for so long, the youth's frustration over the socioeconomic stratification is understandable. But it becomes much more complex when it throws society into a downward spiral. No education, no job, no money means no motivation. In a predominantly Muslim country (≈90%, with a Coptic Christian population of about 10%, total population is around 80 million Egyptians), where Islam forbids premarital sex, pre-requisites for marriage are hard to attain in such an upside-down economy. These requirements include a secure job, savings, an apartment, quite possibly a car, and whatever else the bride's family demands. If the prospective groom falls short, the bride's family may reject his proposal. This concept instantly circles around itself and adds to the burden of frustration and helplessness. Many men who are unready for marriage, a decision somewhat shaped by social standards; turn to other ways of pleasuring themselves sexually by means of Internet porn, getting aroused by Arabic music videos and masturbation. One can see how sexual urges intensify when an individual is deprived and their culture condemns sexuality. In addition to that, there is high sexual censorship in Egyptian film and media, further depriving both men and women of the human nature of sexuality, meanwhile adding to sexual tensions. The lack of sexual display in the mainstream media, in attempt to keep society conservative, has the inverse effect and leads men to seeking these images in private. However, rather than their sexual tension being relieved in private, it is done in public, in all the wrong ways. Although I personally feel like Egyptian censorship of sex in the media, in combination with easily accessible Internet porn has an influence, it is unfair to blame these factors solely. In societies open to all displays of sexuality including the acceptance of premarital sex, sexual harassment still exists, and those who commit assaults are let off without fair trial. ** This is part 1 of a two-part series looking at sexual harassment in Egypt. Part two will be published on Wednesday. BM
