women , men …no similarity!
Personally the phrase men and women are the same , makes me feel bad why ?
It’s simply the contrary of that ,women and men were never the same , I encountered a woman two days ago , a single mom at the age of 35 drifting thru life with an 14 years old kid she says : I tried to have a decent work to give my child a brighter future , but the circumstances of working are unbearable I started working in a factory for clothes , when my husband divorced me , my parents and family abounded me , I found myself with a 6 six years old kid alone in the streets , luckily I found a generous man gave me a shelter to hide from the cruelty of the streets , and found me a job in a factory the income was little , barely covering the needs . I couldn’t sign my son to school. For the society I was only a divorced mother with no sound with no rights. I started working at that factory, things were normal in the beginning, but one day I was chocked to being called by the headmaster to his office , I thought that I did something wrong or he is going to fir me you know work conditions in factories are just scary one day you are in the next day you are out , instead he did something else he offered me money . And so much more if I give him myself. At that specific time I was shocked all I could think about is Why the people are so cruel? I answered with a no I remember I almost hit him I was furious at that time I knew I was alone and the world Is a terrible place more scarier than any horror movie you can ever watch …The headmaster and my house owner were friends so he called him and told him that I’m not respectful and I work in prostitution and that I was the one who offered him myself for money , the owner knew the headmaster for a long time and I’m just a single divorced mother my word has no meaning compared to his . Though I was truthful I got out of the house with my baby, he looked at me with teary eyes and said ‘’mommy why everybody leaves us? ‘’ I couldn’t hold my tears anymore I sat on the barred cold floor and hugged him he kept crying over my shoulder than I said t myself ‘’hakima . you need to make it better ‘’ I went downtown I had a little money saved I bought us a meal on that restaurant I met ,Zaina a middle aged woman on appearance she looked young but she was old she liked badr my son and kept waving and playing with him …then she asked me ‘’what drives you here you and this little angel , it’s neither the perfect time nor place for people like you …I needed to talk to someone and zaina was ready to hear . we talked for hours and while to while we look over badr while he plays on the ground with some collared stones he found .
Zaina told me about her story which was similar to mine, she offered home I hesitated at first but then looking at my son I had to. We went to her house well it wasn’t really a house just a room with three beds and a small kitchen next to an old toilet the water was broken so we had to get it from a fountain in the corner . I suspected her work at first she used to work in night and sleep in the morning till she began to bring her costumers from time to time saying that they would pay more if the location was hers and me and badr we hide in the toilet, badr was always asking me about what’s going on I didn’t have the answer so I just told him over and over Auntie zaina is with the doctor now . or that she needed to get a shot and that’s just a doctor .
The day has come that my boy needed to go to school I couldn’t find work , and even when I get hired people have always hidden intentions , I didn’t have any diploma . zaina offered me help I couldn’t except money but I had to take a choice for my baby’s sake , I did make a choice expect it wasn’t really the good one to make . I told zaina that I wanted to be like her, and work in night so I can give my son the life he deserves it’s okay if I suffer but y baby doesn’t have to she refused at first but I insisted on her tell she had to accept it and say yes . I have been working like this for eight years I’ve been selling my body to strangers for eight years just so that my baby get a decent future and I’m working on that with my flesh or my brain or my hands all what it matters is my son …the bus came we had to go up I lost hakima from sight thru people but her words stood with me and stayed till I decided to transform them to words writing this I cried twice when I remember how tired she looked and how frustrated her body was , but hakima had to do that for her child , for that men that let her go , the man she trusted , and that family who suppose to be her shelter from all the cruelty in the world instead of that they threw her in the street she was alone , scared , now she’s dead her body is technically dead , she’s selling her body to men who have no sense of mercy
This is why I’m telling you women and men are not the same , it’s natural men looks at the women like meat piece or an object he can fulfil his sexual needs with …reading this how can you say that women are responsible ?