I WAS NOT BROUGHT THERE FOR A GOOD JOB
In 2002, I got a new cleaning job with a German man named Michael. He was so sweet and tall with black eyes. I started out working for him, but it became a romantic relationship. We dated for two years, but no marriage happened because he was already married. His wife was in Germany, and they were sort of separated and still together only for their kids. His job ended after two years, and he went back to Germany. He paid me very well, though, and took care of my children. He still calls me to his day to check on me.
Michael was good to me, but in the first Cairo year I had so much trouble. A friend of mine named Ragah was walking with me in the Agouza neighborhood around eight p.m. We were crossing the street, and a Saudi guy in a car stopped near us. He asked me if I wanted a good job and I said yes. He was dressed like a Saudi in long roads. It was just after I had left my cleaning job in Zamalek so I wanted a job. He said his house was across town, and needed me to start today. I told him I had to go tell my family, and he took Ragah and me over to see Abuk so I could tell her I had found a job. Ragah didn’t want to come with me, but I told her, “Ragah, you have to come with me so I can show you the house because I don’t want to be alone.” It was a BMW and the glass was tinted; two men sat in the front and we sat in the back. I didn’t know they were criminals because they looked like wealthy Saudis and they talked like Saudis, so I though they were Saudis.
Inside the car, everything was dark from the dark windows. Every once in a while, a driver would get out of the car and make a call on a pay phone. I began to get nervous when he stopped driving. They took us into an empty apartment. They sat us in a room on a couch. The Saudi guy was beside me, and then me and Ragah and then the other guy. They closed the door and locked it. I felt my heart beating and something wrong was happening. The apartment was not even as good as my own.
I was not brought there for a good job.
One guy told me he wanted me to sleep with him. I said, “Me sleep with you? Did you bring us here so you could use us?” He slapped me and he had a knife. He said if I opened my mouth, he would cut me into pieces. He took me to the next room. There were other men in there standing in a line. It was on the third floor of the building, and all the doors and windows were closed. The man who slapped me said, “Take off your clothes.” I tried to pull away, but he took out his knife and then he raped me.
The other man originally with us was still in the other room with Ragah, beating her up very hard. After I was raped, I went in there and saw an open window. It was the third floor. I thought that if I threw myself I could die. The same guy who raped me raped Ragah.
A man from the other room came for Ragah. He told Ragah to go sleep with him. The man beat her up and dragged her away. Then I saw the men in the other room run out of the house quickly. I ran to the other room and saw Ragah hanging out the window and screaiming. She was only holding onto the wall of the balcony. The neighbors turned on the lights and they saw. People came onto the street in their underwear. Some brought mattresses so Ragah could jump. Ragah let go and fell onto the mattresses.
When the first Saudi ran out, the neighbors grabbed him by the robes. Ragah was screaming. She was naked like the day she was born. Everyone came around with wooden sticks. I didn’t know if people wanted to hit me or hit the man. I grabbed Ragah and we ran to the Saudis’ BMW car, because I was afraid to stay in that neighborhood – it looked bad and strange. We got to a bridge, and the driver opened our door and said to get out. We told him to take us to the police. He said he would not and tried to give us money. I said, “I don’t want your money, just take me back to my home.”
A car stopped close to us. An Egyptian man got out and asked if something was wrong. I said yes and told him what was happening. He went to speak with the Saudi and then got back in his own car. The Saudi driver started grabbing me to get me out. I said, “I will not get out until you take me to the men of law.”
He drove me and Ragah toward our neighborhood. I saw the Egyptian private car driving behind us, so I felt a bit more trusting. He stopped once and said he was going to get money. He came back with a folder. When he drove again, we went to a construction site. He stopped the car and pulled Ragah and me out. Ragah was still not wearing anything. The Egyptian came. He took the money. The Saudi and the Egyptian beat up the two of us so badly that Ragah and I were lying on the ground and couldn’t move. The cars left. It was very dark, and I wasn’t able to see the license plates. There was no point in complaining to the police. They left us lying on the ground by the street.
The men had dropped two hundred pounds (US$30) next to us. I took off my shirt and gave it to Ragah for a cover. We took a taxi home. I never went to the police. I had no evidence and I was new to Cairo.
