This first speaker account is a translation from an Arabic
origin by request. It contains expletives and graphic
language ........ Discretion is advised.
It was a normal day when I woke up early in the morning and prepared to go to my college classes. I arrived on campus and found out there were student demonstrations already underway. I thought it was inevitable during the phase of political effervescence that Egypt was undergoing. After all, the coup d’état kept telling us they had come to rescue democracy in the land from the usurping hands of the MB traitors. They told us we were in a nation of freedom and liberties under their rule.
Only minutes had passed when all of a sudden the sky was raining pieces of steel emitting thick acrid and choking smoke. So acrid and caustic was the smoke that healthy mature young women fell limp on the ground upon breathing the ambient air around it. Two more minutes and black clad Tasmanian devils routed us from all directions and pounced on top of us. It felt like black vultures had swooped down on us from the skies.
I became so confused and dazed, and could not think clearly nor could I fathom the pandemonium around me. All I could hear were desperate and frantic cries coming from the girls fleeing the carnage a short distance away from me; “Run, run quickly, and get away from there!
Well, I didn’t run, and I had no idea what to run from and why. In fact in a strange sort of way, I wasn’t even fearful in my state of shock, until all of a sudden, I saw a massive arm surrounding my neck and felt it tightening the grip so hard that it turned my neck sideways allowing me to see him in a black mask with an official officer rank insignia of captain in an epaulet adorning his massive shoulders. And while his arm gripped my neck, he gave his hand permission to grope my breast in a filthy, vile and subhuman manner.
All that while his herd of troopers were whipping my back and sides with their switches and batons amid their vile verbal name calling; “Move you daughter of a whore, move so that we turn you into a submissive ewe … Are you crying you daughter of a c*&%t? You have not seen anything yet, you slutty daughter of a slut.
I panicked and was crying hysterically while fending the switches from inflaming my body and pushing their hands from invading and ravishing my dignity.
As for the expletive language, I hope you will not take offense by it; I only meant to allow you to live the bitter reality I had endured and enable you to appreciate how we had felt.
They shoved me into a filthy police truck, which soon became crowded with crying and screaming young women like me, some showed an unusual resistance to panic and were defiant despite the violent prying of our Hijabs, severe beatings and extreme physical abuse.
The police van moved and we arrived at the police station. They paraded us in the most humiliating, almost inhuman manner in front of the low ranking police troopers who were each busy searching for his favorite part of our bodies to grope in the most sadistic and subhuman display of animalistic pleasure at the expense of our human dignity.
Once we were all in the filthy crowded cesspool of a place they had for us, an officer came in and ordered us to squat down and rise only upon calling our individual name which he was reading from our ID cards that they had confiscated.
I barely heard my name, and as I had been physically and mentally debilitated, I was unable to spring up standing as they ordered us to do, but while I was trying, he rushed at me screaming in my face, “Are you playing the weakling game on me, you “c*&%t-f*&^ed whore? Weren’t you strong enough to get into the demonstration?
Suddenly I felt a massive hand striking the side of my face and neck that knocked me out of conscience, and did not come to for minutes, except to feel more hands striking my face and others groping every spot of my body. It appears that they had pulled me aside so that the troopers could enjoy their sadistic groping unimpeded by what was going on in other parts of the room while the other girls were suppressing their crying and moaning from pain so that they would not be subjected to the same treatment.
In a corner of the room, I heard the horrifying screams of one of the girls and looked to find out she had been tied up with ropes like a calf, the officer and every one of his herd of troops were severely beating her with unprecedented hatred, almost like lynching her. The herd of troops groping her and the officer telling her, this is for being a smart ass and answering me back you lowly whore, You will not get out of here until I f*&^k you and make you pregnant .. Seconds later, he dragged her on the floor out of the room and disappeared for one full hour. He returned dragging her back after an hour. She was silent and grim faced, but her eyes told us the whole story.
Towards the end of the day, they had finished all the reports filling them out with the usual bogus charges of terrorism, public menace, assaulting the authorities, illegal weapons, and the rest of the fabricated mendacity. They then dragged us literally by the arms and feet into the sell, which was another filthy cesspool unfit for pigs.
There we sat and slept on filthy, urine-spotted tile floor, without mattresses or blankets. There we had to endure the lack of safety and security. There we had to endure the pigs coming in and out whenever they wished to grope our bodies, and if we screamed, we were beaten to pulp.
This is my story, it is but one of thousand stories of young female students like me, and it is probably the least tragic and least criminal and least sadistic of the lot.
This is what Human Rights Organizations choose to ignore because there are more pressing cases that require their attention; like women forbidden from driving cars in some countries. There is the hypocrisy that they don’t want to acknowledge.