One day when I woke up I found him reading my papers. It was as though he were violating my body. Maybe if he had violated my body it would have been less painful. I said: ‘Those are my papers and you have no right to read them.’

His answer was to pick up the pile of papers and throw them out of the window. I jumped out of the window thinking I would be able to save them from being lost. I would have killed myself, broken my head on the tarmac road. It was not a moment of madness. I was perfectly aware of what I was doing. I had worked on my novel day and night for months, and then had covered three hundred pages with my handwriting. To me, rescuing the novel was like saving my life.

Autore: Nawal El Saadawi