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أنا أبويا راجل عظيم

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أنا أبويا راجل عظيم..يمكن مش كتير باين له دة، لكني بافخر به أوي..وباتعلم منه أكتر..ودايماً بارمي "مثاليتي الزايدة وتوقعاتي بالخير والجمال والحق الغير واقعية"، على رأي أمي، عليه.


بابا كان بطل جمهورية في 6 لعبات رياضية في وقت واحد، كان حارس مرمى للنادي الأهلي، وبطل الجمهورية مصارعة وملاكمة ووثب وتنس. اتخرج من أداب إنجليزي، بس مكتفاش..اشتغل في التدريس، مكتفاش، درس طب 3 سنين ومحسش أنها مناسباه، مخافش يغير، درس صيدلة وخلصها..فتح صيدليته بإيديه وبمجهوده، رغم أن عائلته ميسورة الحال..بنى صيدليته وبيوته (اللي كانت) وجاب عربيته من شقاه.."بالرغم أن جدوده بشوات"..


دخل جامعة أمريكية بردو، وحصل أكثر من شهادة في كذا مجال واكتسب خبرات غريبة..عمل معادلة وانضم للعمل في مجلس الوزراء..حتى قبل وصوله لدرجة وكيل وزارة الصحة، قرر يطلع نفسه معاش مبكر...عشان حضر اجتماع واحد وحيد لأحمد نظيف وشاف كم السرقة، فخاف "لقمة حرام تدخل جوف مراتي وبنتي"..ابويا اللي باختلف معاه سياسياً النهاردة..رمى شغله واكل عيشه وحياته كشاب محبوب ودنجوان وله صداقات عديدة..وراح طواعيةً اطوع في المقاومة الشعبية...وحارب وخسر، ورجع ووقف ورجع يضيف لحياته وحياة من حوله تاني وتالت وعاشر...
وبالرغم من انه كان بيشتغل من 8 الصبح ل 4 العصر في المجلس، ومن 4 العصر ل 2 صباحاً في صيدليته، قرر يوقف كل أعماله أما شك إن فيها شبهة..وأجر الصيدلية لواحد بملاليم "عشان شاب ولازم نساعده"...بس الشاب دة مصانش الأمانة..


أبويا خسر ابنه اللي مات في ايده وهو طفل، خسر شغله، خسر كتير فلوسه، خسر عمله وشغله الشاغل، بس عمره ما خسر نفسه ولا شغفه في الحياة...ولا شجاعته في إنصاف مظلوم..
أما كنت باروح اي اي مكان مع بابا..كنت باحس اني بنت أمير..من كتر الاحتفاء "ببنت الدكتور فاروق"..كافة أشكال الكرم والحب والود والمحبة اللي شوفتها بس بفضل اني بنته عايشة معايا إلى يومنا هذا...المشهد كان ناس غلابة واغنياء وباختلافاتهم كلهم..كتير...بيقوموا، حرفياً بيجرو ناحية بابا وناحيتي يستقبلونا "بالبسيط الذي لديهم، أو بالغالي"..وف عينهم فرحة ان بابا جه بجد!


أبويا الراجل القوي اللي اتخلص من أعتى الأمراض ووقف وكمل مشواره..بيبقى طفل صغير أما أسافر 3 أيام مع اصحابي رحلة..ويقول لماما كل يوم من ال 3 أيام دول "طلعي كرسي هبة ع السفرة،وحطي لها طبق ومعلقة وشوكة..كرسيها ميفضاش يا سهير"ويتخانق معاها تعمل دة، وهي تعمله رغم ان شيء خالي من المنطق...وكنت أرجع ألاقيه واقف طابخ لي بإيده.....واما كنت اغطيه كل يوم على عادتي زي ما باعمل يومياً معاه ومع ماما..كان يعافر يمد ايده رغم تعبه، ويتشعلق في رقبتي ويحضني حضن زيادة..واما كان يجيب لنا اي حاجة وانا صغيرة، أي أكل، ومع ان انه بيجيبه بكميات مهولة ل3 أشخاص فقط، بس كان لو مسك شكولاتاية...يقطم نصها ويخلي لي نصها..مع ان في شنط شوكولاتة كاملة جوا..."بس اتعودي تقسمي حلوك يا هبة"..


أبويا الراجل القوي، الشرقي جداً، راجل بجد، إنسان بجد، عارف ان عنده زوجة وبنت جابها بعد شوقة..."بنت عمره على حد قوله"...مش جاب خدامتين..أبويا هو اللي علم امي تطبخ..ولحد مقبل ما صحته تقع، كان مشهد طبيعي اني ادخل من مجرستي كل يوم الاقي بابا اللي عاملنا الأكل..اللي اتخلى عن شغله بإرادته فيما أن مراته هي اللي بتنزل كل يوم الشغل عادي من غير كلاكيع..أبويا اللي عوذد عيني انه مشهد طبيعي ان انا وهو وماما نكون واقفين في نفس الوقت هو بينضف وماما بتطبخ وانا باتخانق عشان مش عاوزة اعمل اي حاجة..أبويا رباني اني امي ام، انسانة، وانا ليا نفس الحقوق الطبيعية، مش فضل وتكرم ومنه معطاه منه لنا..


أنا كل شيء أنا عليه الآن بفضل ناس وحاجات كتير، أولهم، مع اني ملاحظتش دة إلا متأخر، أبويا..أنا مش هبة محفوظ..أنا هبة فارو محفوظ..بنت فاروق محمد يوسف محفوظ، وآخر سلالته!

أبويا دلوقتي بين إيديا طفل صغير لا حول له ولا قوة، لا قدرة على الكلام او التعبير عن آلمه..أو حتى البكاء..محاط ومسجون في عشرات الأسلاك الطبية..مسلوب القدرة على قول كلمة او شكوى..بابا .."أطول واكبر راجل في العالم..باترمي واستخبى في حضنه"..انا مش مش قادرة بس اساعده، انا حتى مش عارفة شكوته من اية...لك الحمد والمنه يا رب..اللهم اشفي لي ابويا يا رب..
‫#‏فضفضة‬ ‫#‏مخنوقة_ياربي‬

بابا مات خلاص..

أبويا الآن يوسئل، فلتدعوا له بالجنة ونعيمها..فليصلي عليه من يستطيع..وليدعو له كل اللي ساعدهم من قريب وبعيد.. فليدعوا له كل انسان...اللهم اني اشهدك واشهد حملة عرشك وجميع خلفك انه ادى امانته..اللهم اني اشهدك ان فاروق محمد يوسف محفوظ ادى امانته وصانك فينا على اكمل وجه...اللهم كما شقى علينا عوضه برحمتك وجناتك يا رحيم..اسألكم الدعاء وﻻ شيء سواه.. سلام يا روح وقلب وعين هبة..سلام يا بابا.. ادعوا له..هو الآن يوسئل.اللهم لك الحمد كما رزقتني بأبي..لك الشكر ع اللي عاشه معايا..اللهم ان كان ضيفي لاكرمته..فهو الآن ضيفك فاكرمه وانزله منزلا حسنا..انت اكرم الاكرمين

رسالة حسين إلى ليلى في الباب المفتوح

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عزيزتى ليلى


لم أكن أريد أن أستعمل كلمة ” عزيزتى ” بل أردت أن أستعمل كلمة أخرى، كلمة أقرب الى الحقيقة والى شعورى نحوك ولكنى خفت أن أخيفك وأنا أعرف أن من السهل اخافتك. من السهل بشكل مؤلم، مؤلم لى على الأقل.

وهذا أيضا هو سبب ترددى فى الكتابة اليك ولكن حنينى الجارف الى الوطن لم يترك لى الاختيار فقد أصبحت أنت رمزا لكل ما أحبه فى وطنى وعندما أفكر فى مصر أفكر فيك وعندما أحن الى مصر أحن اليك وبصراحة أنا لا أنقطع عن الحنين الى مصر.

أكاد أراك تبتسمين، فأنت لاتصدقينى. أليس كذلك ؟.. أنت لا تثقين بى. أنت تقيمين بينى وبينك الحواجز، أنت لا تريدين أن تنطلقى وأن تتركى نفسك على سجيتها، لأنك تخشين أن تتعلقى بى، أن تفنى كيانك فى كيانى، أن تستمدى ثقتك فى نفسك وفى الحياة منى، ثم تكتشفى كيانك مدلوقا-كالقهوة- فى غرفتى.

وأنا أحبك وأريد منك أن تحبينى، ولكنى لا أريد منك أن تفنى كيانك فى كيانى ولا فى كيان أى أنسان. ولا أريد لك أن تستمدى ثقتك فى نفسك وفى الحياة منى أو من أى أنسان. أريد لك كيانك الخاص المستقل، والثقة التى تنبعث من النفس لا من الاخرين.
واذ ذاك – عندما يتحقق لك هذا- لن يستطيع أحد أن يحطمك لا أنا ولا أى مخلوق. اذ ذاك فقط، تستطيعين أن تلطمى من يلطمك وتستأنفى المسير. واذ ذاك فقط تستطيعين أن تربطى كيانك بكيان الآخرين، فيزدهر كيانك وينمو ويتجدد، واذ ذاك فقط تحققين السعادة فأنت تعيسة يا حبيبتى، وقد حاولت، ولم تستطيعى، أن تخفى عنى تعاستك…

لقد أنحبست فى الدائرة التى ينحبس فيها أغلب أفراد طبقتنا، دائرة الأنا، دائرة التوجس والركود، دائرة الأصول، نفس الأصول التى جعلت عصام يخونك، وجعلت محمود يشعر بالعزلة فى معركة القناة. وجعلت طبقتنا، كطبقة، تقف طويلا موقف المتفرج من الحركة الوطنية، نفس الأصول التى تكرهينها وأكرها، ويكرها كل من يتطلع الى مستقبل أفضل لشعبنا ووطننا.

وفى دائرة الأنا، عشت تعيسة، لانك فى أعماقك تؤمنين بالتحرر، بالانطلاق، بالفناء فى المجموع، بالحب، بالحياة الخصبة المتجددة.

عشت تعيسة لأن تيار الحياة فيك لم يمت بل بقى حيا يصارع من أجل الانطلاق.
فلا تنحبسى فى الدائرة الضيقة، انها ستضيق عليك حتى تخنقك أو تحولك الى مخلوقة بليدة معدومة الحس والتفكير…
انطلقى يا حبيبتى، صلى كيانك بالآخرين، بالملايين من الآخرين، بالارض الطيبة أرضنا، بالشعب الطيب شعبنا.

وستجدين حبا، أكبر منى ومنك، حبا كبيرا، حبا جميلا… حبا لايستطيع أحد أن يسلبك اياه، حبا تجدين دائما صداه يتردد فى الاذن، وينعكس فى القلب، ويكبر به الانسان ويشتد: حب الوطن وحب الشعب…

فانطلقى يا حبيبتى، افتحى الباب عريضا على مصراعيه، واتركيه مفتوحا..,
وفى الطريق المفتوح ستجديننى يا حبيبتى، أنتظرك، لأنى أثق بك، وأثق فى قدرتك على الأنطلاق، ولأنى لا أملك سوى الانتظار… انتظارك.


حسين.

If Only You Knew!

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If you knew how hard it is to stand there watching your friends get hit, shot, gassed, and die...if you knew how hard it feels to see blood for the first time...if you knew how hard it is for us to betray our beliefs and stay silent...if you knew how hard it is having to justify what you do all the time because the media is ruining your image unjustly...if you knew how lame and tiring it became to try to explain and show people the very obvious truth...if you knew we are not after power or money like you are....if you knew that we are not fighting for our own rights as much as we are fighting for the rights of those who are poorer, weaker, and less fortunate....if you knew how guilty we feel when someone is hungry or treated with disrespect...if you knew how vicious it feels to see someone being humiliated by those who are "superior and more powerful"...if you knew how unfair it is to be criminalized for wanting a better future for your country and people...if you knew that you made our basic human rights seem like far-fetched dreams...if you knew how responsible we feel towards the families of those who died and those who continued to live and suffer injury...



if you knew that many of us are afraid to have a normal life, get married and have children fearing your injustice would stand in their ways or kill them...if you knew that a bullet does not only kill one person...it kills a whole family, many friends, many dreams, many plans, and many love stories...if you knew we don't have the guts to tell our parents we are joining the protests but but we have the guts to stand in front of your armored trucks...if you knew that disobeying our parents's wishes and joining the protests against their will is more painful than getting hurt by the hands of your militias...and if your militias knew we are fighting for their rights too...for the dignity you made them lose...if you knew how painful it is to stay silent, and how hard it is to keep fighting...you would have never pointed your weapons at us!

Disillusioned...at last!

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I am really sorry, but I just had to type this down. I totally love and appreciate the messages of support I receive from many foreign brothers and sisters, over FB and Twitter, expressing their pride and support for the women who were part of our revolution. But I just started feeling weird, somehow offended, receiving more of those "surprised" messages. Some people, unconsciously, internalize the sexist and discriminatory thoughts on women, specially Arabs and Muslims, and it shows in the: "I am dazzled and surprised. Wow, did not expect them to do this" messages. I mean, why should you be surprised that women in my country go out of their homes and protest? Why should you be astonished that I am as great a citizen as any other man taking part in the revolution? At least I hope you now deconstruct these stereotypical images and stop being so surprised when we do the normal. You have no excuse. You have seen us revolt! :)





Take Samira Ibrahim as an example of a normal, Egyptian woman/revolutionary. She has been subjected to virginity tests.
  
Virginity tests? What is that?  

It is SCAF's way to break the spirits of Egyptian female activists. Samira was arrested and tortured on march, 9th last year. She has been subjected to "virginity tests", which the military conducted claiming they wanted to prove she was not raped (in case she claims so) while being arrested. She spoke out and empowered 3 more ladies, out of 17, to also speak out against it. Samira did not ask for money or any financial compensation/Compensatory Damages, only asked for banning the practice. The result of their fighting was that the practice was banned by Egyptian law some months ago for its "harmful physical and psychological impact" and uselessness. She has managed to save many female activists. Now she is suing the soldiers who did this to her. He has been cleared by military court and now she is resorting to the general prosecutor. she never stops, and we all won't do!

And after the butcher, aka doctor was cleared by the MILITARY court, here is a photo of her crying and here are some of her statements:

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2502704025767&set=a.1212873260804.24898.1797984900&type=3 :
Samira Ibrahim: "Nobody violated my honor, it was #Egypt's honor that was stolen, but I will continue to the end to retrieve it."

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2504119261147&set=a.1212873260804.24898.1797984900&type=3
Samira Ibrahim: They won't break me. I come from a conservative community, upper Egypt, and they all are supporting me, standing against SCAF. Military court would never be just or fair. I won when the practice was banned by court, I did not lose. Many girls don't have to worry about virginity tests anymore. But I will keep on fighting until I see this officer punished.

And after this photo was taken, she went with a group of women to protest in front of the ministry of defense, carrying a sign that reads:"You won't break me."http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=364329870267139&set=a.308313695868757.75890.308169565883170&type=1


http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2503193237997&set=a.1212873260804.24898.1797984900&type=3 She might have cried, but she is now standing in front of the ministry of defense delivering a message:" You won't break me. I am fighting till the end."

It is true. We are politically & socially oppressed as women in Egypt. But how did we react? What happened? Conformity? Passiveness? Giving in? Nah, EMPOWERMENT. We empowered each other, and we fought back!



And here are SOME of our women martyrs during the first 18 days of January 25th Revolution:




Ameerah


Hadeer, 13 years old.



Christeen Sila


Sally Zahran




Shaimaa Fouad




Rahma Mohsen


Mariam Makram





 
And many more were injured. Many more continued to live and suffer injury for the rest of their lives, including Dr Maram. This is her 

carrying her own photo after injury. 

She has been shot many times on January, 

28th, 2011, on Qasr El Nile bridge. 

She was standing defying the police officers 

shooting directly at protesters. 

She was trying to speak to them and make 

them stop, but they shot at her. 

She was severely injured, and got part of her 

stomach and other damaged organs removed.





One of the female doctors volunteering to treat the wounded at Tahrir.




The Egyptian women fight began way before the revolution. This photo was 

taken in 2010.






This photo was taken of a protester, fine arts student, during the famous Mohamed Mahmoud clashes where many were killed in 2012, 2013. And many others lost their eyesight when shot by birdshots directly to the eyes. She was collecting stones for the revolutionaries, like herself, to throw them in an act of self-defence at the security forces who were firing tear gas, rubber coated pellet shots at them.

This is Vivian. She is holding the hands of her martyr Fiancee Micheal. They used to work together at the same place. They got engaged and they loved each other dearly. During the Maspero (State TV building) sit in against religious oppression against Christians in Egypt, army trucks and forces attacked the sit in and the march, killing 27 people in cold blood. Micheal was one of them. A tank stepped over his body right in front of Vivian who refused to leave his body afterwards. And after they ran him over, army forces came to beat the corpse, which made her scream "Leave him alone. He is dead. He is dead. What more do you want?"

This is her photo at the morgue. She just could not let go of his hand. And until this very moment, I don't think she will ever come back to be normal again. My heart aches for her, and for every Egyptian woman and mother. Egyptian women have learnt, the hard way, what is it like to live with loss of those loved ones because of giant dictators.




Egyptian women protesters and martyrs come in all shapes, colors, backgrounds, and ages. Glory to the
strength of Egyptian women's sacrifices and resilience.


And it does not just end in the square. Women in my country fight on many fronts, in many different battlefields. Many women volunteered to work to free those detained. Many of them are not lawyers, but they volunteered to do so. They are sacrificing a lot, but most importantly, peace in their lives. They chose to do this. They chose to receive phone calls late at night from the terrified parents who can not find their sons and daughters and call them for help. They spend their times between morgues, police stations, courthouses, hospitals and many other dreadful places.

Take Mona Sief for an example:

Mona is not a lawyer, nor has she ever studied law. But she is becoming a legal expert now. Mona founded the "No Military Trials for Civilians"movement, during the SCAF rule, to put an end to the torture civilian protesters face at the hands of the military junta ruling over the country. She started with a very small group of lawyers, all volunteers, and now she has one of the biggest groups ever, who are working non-stop. Mona, and other women, Fatma Serag, Rasha Azzab, Nazli Hussien, Ghada Shahbander, and others, are sacrificing a lot. But the most important thing they are so powerful enough to do is that they not only never lose hope; they never let us lose hope either, which sounds like mission impossible 9 in a country like Egypt.


Sanaa Youssef.

And this is Sanaa Youssef. Never mind what her religion or ideological background is, because she treats people as they should be treated, disregarding any labels. Sanaa Was one of the people arrested during 2011 clashes. She has been detained, beaten, sexually assaulted, and during the full two days in which she was kept in a police station without a phone, a lawyer, or anyone of her friends or family, she did her best to calm those who had been arrested with her, were younger than her. I call her the Egyptian mother Teresa. As hard as they had assaulted her is as hard as she continued to fight back peacefully. Sanaa dedicates herself to visit the families of the martyrs, injured, and detained IN EVERY SINGLE Egyptian city. She goes to be in solidarity with them, and tries to get them the legal/financial/medical help needed for them to go on with their lives after loss. I am in awe when I see her travelling between 3 different cities, in one day, without getting any sleep or rest, to do something no one has compelled her to do. Empathy!





The heroine Yasmine Al Baramawy  not only paid the price for her participation in the Egyptian

 Revolution by being gang raped in the middle of Tahrir Square, but she challenged the sexual 

terrorism of the regime and exposed society's patriarchy which would easily criminalize a 

woman raped, leaving very little blame for her rapist. Yasmin decided to  publicly speak out 

about what has happened to her on TV in front of the whole world, held her head high. It stops 

happening as soon as you speak out and fight back. 




Now meet my most favourite! Mariam Kirollos :)



As young and cheerful as she might look is as strong and resilient she is. She is the kinda woman who would wear a head scarf one day in solidarity with Hejabi women banned to enter some places in Cairo. Mariam is also part of  Op Anti Sexual Harassment/ Assault, which is a group of volunteers, men and women, who are trying to protect Egyptian female protesters from organized and systematic sexual assaults during protests.




Under Mubarak.


Under Military Rule.





Tahrir Girl, that is how we love to call her...not the "blu bra girl", as western media loves to call her....she is more than just a bra...she is more of a ...tahrir!


This vicious attack happened during the violent dispersion of the #OccupyCabinet sit in. Here is a video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=of-MG0kgY0U&feature=related

I know her. I see her. She is not broken, SCAF. She is still fighting...hard and strong...last time I saw her was at the MOD sit in...at the field hospital helping the injured!












Azza Helal, the woman who saved Tahrir Girl from getting killed after she was stripped off her clothes, turned out to be the fiancee of martyr Attef el Gohary, killed at #MOD clashes. After Attef was killed, she announced her hunger strike in solidarity with the rest of the detainees.

And here is a video of her saving Tahrir Girl and getting beaten for it. She is the woman in the red coat: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7jSweu1oBc&feature=related 

Azza comes from a family of army generals, but this did not stop her from joing the revolution against them and then against the Junta.
Azza suffered tremendous pain after trying to save tahrir girl.





So please, take note, and do not be so much surprised when you see us fighting for our basic 
human rights, and sacrificing. Deconstruct your Orientalist views, even if you mean well, and take a look at us instead of following the media outlets of your countries which would love to keep you in the dark. Do not be surprised, because we are proud, strong, Egyptian and Arab women, and we come in all shades of anger!

This is in solidarity with every woman who fought back. In solidarity with every woman who fought back and won...But mostly, in solidarity with those women who fought and lost, but did not stop fighting!
                                                                                                                                                                            
For more pictures, kindly check: 


http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1590555502624.63688.1797984900 

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2126828549115.80027.1797984900&type=3

Let's Celebrate Instead

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What I cared for and had my eyes steadily on during Feb 11, 2011 was not the fact that Mubarak stepped down, or rather was forced to step down, to be accurate. The moment, for me, was not a moment to start thinking of "what is next", and may be that is a mistake. It sure is. But when I think of this day, I don't recall the political fallacies, those who sold the Revolution out, or even those who did not and are now either killed, jailed, or left the country for good. When I think of this day, two memories rush back to my mind. The first was of a young man, early 20s, wearing a black shirt, so thin and "weak". He stood facing the square, watching fireworks as they started to be shot, one at a time, and then tens of fireworks shot together at once kissing the sky we believed we reached. There was a camera shooting the square, showing the young man's back. This scene plays in my head in very slow motion. 
As soon as the podium announced that we shook the Pharaoh out of his long-held place, "Mubarak stepped down", the young man gave his back to the square, and I saw his face. He stood still, as if paralyzed. He then started moving as if he was in disbelief, looking at the people around him, in front of him, behind him, showing his face to the camera at a time, and then looking back at the square again, and then back at the camera. An ecstasy of fumbling! 
He was not trying to look at the camera.  I doubt he even noticed it. He was trying to realize a moment. His facial expressions circumspectly conveyed surprise, disbelief, numbness, and as the sounds of people and fireworks started to be louder and louder, he was forced to wake up from his numbness. He breathed heavily. He opened his beautiful eyes wide open with an eagerness of a hungry child who has finally been served food, with the ecstasy of a Sufi worshiper who sees, feels, and truly believes. He tried to crack a doubtful and fearful smile. I guessed he was trying to understand; fully grasp that "this" was really happening, could happen... this moment of realization, that We, "the People", the Young, could achieve something we ourselves doubted, never dreamt of, and were always told we can never achieve.
The second scene was of an old man, with arms wide open, and a flag in one hand.. He started stopping the cars passing through a tunnel, knocking on the cars' windows, crying, and smiling, and slowly uttering "The People, have overthrown
the regime". He was muttering this sentence with a sense of pride I've never seen or felt. He then started to raise his voice, and say the same sentence rapidly, more loudly, as if he was trying to say it loud enough to actually hear it and believe it, prove it. He kept repeating it while crying, and the cars kept honking. People got out of their cars, greeted and hugged each other as if it was not the first time they meet and had long known each other. Two other young men went and hugged him, until his wife showed up with her two kids. He grabbed her from the shoulders, tears streaming down his cheeks, he shock her hard and looked at her as if he was confessing his love to her, and repeated: "Al Sha'ab, Khalas, asqat el nezam"... "The People have overthrown the regime". That sense of self-awareness, that We, the People, only the People, no one else, managed to do the impossible, that sense of accomplishment, of success, of pride, of Power, long-lost Power, was evident in how firmly he grabbed his wife's shoulders and then hugged her and cried like a baby. A-maybe-40 years old baby.
Today, I look back and think that I don't know what happened to these two men, but I know what happened to tens of people I call friends, and thousands others I do not know. I have friends who are jailed, killed, and others sentenced to death, or went into hiding. Egypt today has more than 41,000 people in jail, and thousands more killed in the course of the last 5 years. Death has lost its sacredness. It is now the norm to go to bed knowing scores of young people have been jailed, tortured, killed, or just disappeared. The public has normalized with it. This is the same country that once toppled a dictator of 30 years for one single man unjustly and viciously killed 5 years ago.
Not even when hundreds get killed on one single day do people care. The international community stopped getting shocked by the news coming from Egypt too. You see, we have become "one of those distant places where it is usual that people get killed on a daily basis", and the reaction to this would be an imaginary, yet civilized, audience in their heads going like "Ohhh"....
I know not what the future holds, and I am not sure what should "we" do to make sure it looks like the one we fought for 5 years ago risking our own lives. Five years ago, we knew there was a chance we could get killed in protests, or that we might survive and build the country of our dreams. Now, each one of us is a 110% sure that we-undoubtedly - will get killed for simply discussing the idea in the street. Now it is not a risk. It is a fact. And we know it. Today, we discovered that they are all Mubarak, and we are all, still, Khalid Saed.
They have managed to turn us from a young, passionate, daring, generation that once cleaned the streets with their bare hands, risked their lives in squares, and guarded homes, gov institutions, and public places when the police fled in fear, into a hopeless generation of young people, or who are left of them, risking their lives to get out of this country by all means, legal and illegal, safe, or life-threatning.
They have taken a lot from us, but this moment of victory, this one moment of self-assertion, this scene, this memory, is a witness to what we could achieve, against all odds. They will never be able to take this away from us. It is history. It is ours, and I will claim it whenever I get the chance.
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