The recent killing of a young female doctor in Cairo was no incident. It was an extreme yet logical consequence of a Stasi-like system of 1,000 eyes, in which doormen and neighbors serve as moral watchdogs over any woman who dares living alone.
I’ve almost made peace with the idea that everyone I know is going to die soon, I started to calculate: would I rather die with my parents in Syria? Or would I rather die with my partner and friends here? What if my parents die? Would I rather be there or hear about it from here?