Maybe in a few centuries

 I remember the events with such clarity

Thats what happens when you are shocked

I am walking along the crowded narrow side road in Shorja with my mother

I am 13 or 14 years old

Suddenly I am jolted by someone's hand pressed between my legs 

I am so taken by surprise that it takes a few seconds to actually register what has happened 

By the time I turn there is no-one there, it is too late and I later realise that I am never fast enough to actually see the person let alone do anything about it

Once I slap my arm around frantically after another episode and strike an older woman behind me, our eyes meet, I am bright red she nods and I know she understands but whoever it was slipped in and out of the crowd.

I start to avoid the entire area, and try to get out of going there

When there is no way out, I dress in the baggiest ugliest clothing I can find, including my father's oversized army sweaters

I take to carrying a large bag strategically positioned to completely cover my back from the waist down to the thighs (an only slightly less shocking grope was hands pressed into my waist or almost encircling it)

The last time I remember being manhandled was in the airport the last time I flew out of Baghdad, without my trusty bag and last in the family line I remember thinking the tall man had a strange look about him, but was too afraid that he was an official to say anything before settling into the flight knowing the groper was on board with us.

I try not to recall these memories

The behaviour of my male countrymen was one vital factor in the sense of being "home" when I eventually settled here, the first time I sat down in a coffee shop alone and relaxed knowing that what I was doing how I looked or dressed mattered not one bit to anyone else.

So why the resurfaced memory?

In the early hours of the morning of the 1st day of this year I picked up my 19year old daughter from a new year's eve party she had been to in London, and sensed she was seething

It took a while on the drive home for her to tell me what had happened that night, and at times before that

The leering, the comments, the drivers slowing down as she walked to school

Then the number of times she had swatted men's arms off her waist at parties, asking politely to be left alone, and then less politely if they persisted 

Tonight one of the offenders was on the receiving end of every single curse word she had learnt in her life in Arabic.....

After I calm down 

I try to rationalise to myself

At least she isn't being groped in the street in the daytime 

And she has the confidence I lacked to deal with it 

But that does nothing to the sinking feeling in my stomach...maybe in a few centuries's time....we will be safe