Cette publication est également disponible en :
“Shame on you… this is no place for women. This market is for men only!” With these words, a young man interrupted a woman during an interview broadcast on Bahia TV, simply because she had chosen to enter the sheep market for the first time.
The sheep market in Algiers is a space traditionally dedicated to the sale of livestock, a space so stereotypically male that women’s presence in it is widely regarded as unusual. The incident, which took place in May 2026 during the days leading up to Eid al-Adha, quickly spread across social media platforms.
Even though the woman was older than him, the young man insisted on excluding her from the market, sparking widespread outrage among prominent female influencers. They launched a solidarity campaign by going to the sheep market themselves and taking photos inside, using the gesture as a symbolic challenge to women’s exclusion.
Stories of spatial exclusion
But this incident is not isolated; it falls within a recurring pattern in which women are intimidated and discouraged from entering spaces that have been gendered as masculine. Something similar also occurred during a 2024 Algerian league match between MC Alger and WA Tlemcen at the July 5 Stadium, when player Youcef Belaïli objected to a decision by international referee Ghada Mahat. He attempted to grab and pull her by the arm to prevent her from showing a card, in a scene that provoked widespread condemnation of efforts to intimidate women and push them out of sporting arenas. In the aftermath, online campaigns defended the attack, arguing that “stadiums are not places for women.”
This pattern of spatial exclusion is also clearly evident in the vicious smear campaigns directed this year at female students and young women who camp in forested areas. Calls circulated urging parents to “discipline” their daughters in the name of preserving customs and traditions, effectively seeking to restrict women’s presence in recreational and natural spaces.
Resistance to women’s presence in public space has not been limited to living bodies but has extended even to artistic symbols. The famous Ain El Fouara statue in Setif, a 19th-century sculpture depicting a naked woman, has been repeatedly vandalized.
In sociological literature, public space is closely tied to citizenship and the right of individuals to access shared spaces without restrictions. Yet scholars like David Harvey, author of Rebellious Cities: From the Right to the City to the Urban Revolution (2012), point out that public spaces are never entirely neutral but are shaped by power relations that enable some groups to occupy them more freely than others. From this perspective, the central question is not simply who can enter public space, but who feels that their presence there is legitimate and unrestricted.
“I’m immediately overtaken by strangers staring at me, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. As if I were committing a crime, in public, in broad daylight.”
Unwelcoming streets and the cost of cafes
“I’m immediately overtaken by strangers staring at me, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. As if I were committing a crime, in public, in broad daylight.” These are the words with which 25-year-old Nassima Habib summarizes her experience of public space. “Often, when I find myself standing or sitting on a street corner or at a bus stop, waiting for someone or making a phone call, I notice that I’m being followed by disapproving and accusing looks,” she adds. “For many women, this has become so expected that it feels like an ordinary part of being in public.”
“Many young women today prefer to withdraw from these public spaces and avoid them altogether to protect themselves from harassment or assault, choosing instead to spend time in restaurants and coffee shops. This imposes an additional financial burden on women, who end up paying for what should be a basic right: the ability to feel safe and enjoy a degree of privacy,” Nassima continues.
“Women move through cities as though trespassing”
This reality stands in stark contrast to Algeria’s legal framework. Article 40 of the 2020 Constitution, Paragraph 1, affirms the state’s commitment to protecting women from all forms of violence “in all places and situations in the public, professional, and private spheres.” Paragraph 2 of the same article guarantees victims access to shelter and care facilities, appropriate appeal methods, and free legal assistance.
For Chaimae (a pseudonym), 22, her sense of safety depends on the location. “My answer varies depending on where I am. In some streets I can walk calmly and comfortably, but in some working-class neighborhoods, men stare too much and too suggestively, and I do feel afraid. Without realizing it, my body goes into a state of alertness that makes me more anxious and pushes me to walk faster,” she says.
Chaimae describes these looks as “men looking at us in a frightening way, like they’re stalking prey. Often these looks escalate into direct harassment.”
She recalls an incident of harassment she experienced at Tafourah station, one of the largest transport hubs in the Algerian capital: “Once, a man actually had the audacity to touch a part of my body. I grabbed him immediately, but strangely, no one intervened, even though the place was filled with people. No one reacted. I managed to stand up for myself, but society’s silence in the face of public harassment, the victim-blaming and asking what she was wearing, remains a problem that deserves to be addressed and resolved.”
The fear doesn’t end at the boundaries of public space; it sometimes extends into residential neighborhoods. Chaimae reflects on the idea of an “uneasy passage,” saying, “This phrase reminds me of a feeling I experience every day, from the moment I step outside my apartment building. The neighbors’ stares and constant surveillance have become exhausting, to the point that I’ve actually cancelled many appointments just to avoid walking past them several times in one day. Most of them are ‘hayyata,’ men who spend long hours standing in the street or leaning against walls, watching people come and go.”
These stories evoke the observation of the Malaysian-American feminist scholar and literary critic Shirley Geok-lin Lim, aged 81, : “Women move through cities as though trespassing.”
The suspicion directed at women who occupy public space without an obvious practical purpose reflects a deeply rooted belief that women’s presence must always be justified and tied to a specific function.
On women’s right to unrestricted presence
In a sociological reading of this reality, researcher Fatma Ben Slimane told Medfeminiswiya that the problem lies in the social and urban conditions that make occupying public space more costly for women. “The suspicion directed at women who occupy public space without an obvious practical purpose reflects a deeply rooted belief that women’s presence must always be justified and tied to a specific function, while men’s presence is regarded as a natural right that requires no explanation,” she says. According to Ben Slimane, the issue “is not simply whether someone sits on a sidewalk or in a public square. It’s about who is considered to have the legitimate right to occupy public space, and who is constantly expected to justify their presence.”
Ben Slimane adds, “When we talk about public space being uncomfortable for women, we are not calling for separate spaces or streets exclusively for them. We are demanding their right to use the same spaces as men with the same degree of comfort, safety, and social legitimacy. A just city is not one that provides isolated spaces, but one in which every public space can be used by everyone without fear, because occupying space without having to justify oneself is the essence of full citizenship.”
Ben Slimane concludes her analysis by warning against the legitimization of violence and the normalization of fear. She explains that justifying incidents of exclusion and harassment against women with excuses like “the wrong place or time” shifts the responsibility for safety from society onto women themselves, which pushes women to restrict their own movements and withdraw from public space. She adds that silence in the face of these violations creates a sense of social impunity, which transforms fear into a normal part of daily life instead of addressing its root causes, thus causing public space to lose its character as a shared and equal right.
In response to this reality, Egyptian writer and researcher Ashraf Ibrahim, in his article “Women and the City: Bodies Moving Between Fear and Resistance,” argues that many women develop daily strategies for navigating urban space, such as choosing specific routes, avoiding certain times of the day, or walking more quickly in certain places.
Though these practices may appear ordinary, they reflect an ongoing negotiation with the city and an effort to maintain women’s presence within it. Ibrahim understands these adaptations as a form of social intelligence that enables women to maintain their presence in public space despite the challenges they face.
