The Land of Pure Filth
Oct 21, 2017
This is why we need multiple layers of hijabs for girls:
The first time it happened, I was seven. An imam in our neighbourhood mosque held me, taking my hand, wrapping my fingers (they were still tiny) around his genitals, then massaging it.
It gets worse:
The next time, not long after, it was another imam (it seemed as though the word was going around that I was an easy target–I was mostly a shy and quiet child). My mother could not leave me alone anywhere after that, I wasn’t allowed to play outside, or be out of sight.
Much worse:
During my teens, however, it began again; by a teacher, my school bus driver, groping, fondling, grabbing, then later astonishingly a colleague, a friend, a number of friends, a doctor, a relative, many relatives, a stranger and then many strangers.
As we've been reliably informed by Qasim Rashid, aka Fake Muslim, what Pakistan really needs is Islam and sharia -- only then can it bury prevent these sex abuse scandals.
Once I beat up the son of a police officer, in front of other men in the neighbourhood, in Karachi.
Uh oh.
My father, a simple man, was embarrassed and had no idea why complaints were being made if I wasn’t the culprit. Being a man, it wasn’t obvious to him what was obvious to my mother. In the conservative neighbourhood that we lived in, my father was often asked why he would let me out of the house in the first place.
Of course. The Muslim father is shamed because he can't control his blunt, gutsy, and totally whorish daughter.
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