Sunrise at last (the unfortunate Egypt)... Part II
"What more could I possibly loose? Mubarak had stolen everything: Every chance I had in a better future, advanced career and decent life." I thought while walking hurriedly through Mobtadian street heading to Kasr el Einy street where the Parliament stood few hundred feats away from Tahrir square. Lots of protesters had already made their decision to occupy the square with its symbolic importance but that wasn't enough for me and the few who rushed to a fast kill; for us a square was just a square and the parliament seemed to be the most important target in that critical day.
Numbered in hundreds, we were clearly isolated from bigger crowds trying to reach the square or even to get to the same street we were targeting; the majority of protesters came from Giza where el-Baradei was to pray and lead a major demonstration from there.
The street was empty right then, every door was closed and so were the windows, getting closer to Kasr el Einy street, I found out the logical reason why public abandoned the street.
My throat felt so sore of a sudden and my eyes started to shed tears; obviously: I was just starting to get the slightest share of the tear gas used by police forces in Kasr el Einy street. And I wasn't even in the street yet! On the intersection between Mobtadaian and Kasr el Einy street, you could see the first real signs of the battle. People running to and from the intersection.
"What was the target again?" you start thinking..." Where am I going and why?"
Was it the street? was it the parliament? it is Tahrir square? or maybe it is where ever a painful blow to Mubarak's regime can be aimed!
Every step counted, every feet crossed in the one sided walk to change and liberty made difference and every centimeter became a cause itself.
Now, when you could see the ongoing battle in your own blurry eyes, now when you hear the sounds demanding a change, the screaming cries of pain all mingled with the thick merciless sounds of guns firing tear gas and occasionally the blunted horrible sound of a stick breaking a bone! Only now, can you feel the magnitude of the fight. Now you can see that it is nothing like movies with soundtracks to encourage the hero, nor is there a protecting angel to guide the people and deliver them. You only get your heart beats to set the rhythm, your cause to guide you and no protection whatsoever from the iron fist of injustice.
Just 10 meters before the intersection I was carried in a new stampede away from Kasr el Einy away from the attack of police attacks.
One of the protesters didn't run, obviously not satisfied with the location of the battle; of losing the few meters we fought for the last few hours in a moment and he started calling in a harsh voice: "Where are you running? Come back and fight! Don't you forget why we came here for.... We came to die for our freedom... Let's die... Let's fight and die... Come back... Fight and die"
Attracting few demonstrators and calming down the stampede, he must have been marked a main target by the police forces. Soon enough, a gas bomb hit him exactly in the chest and he fell down, losing his conscience or dead.... I will never know!
All I could see was him being carried by three fellow protesters and rushed away from the scene to any close hospital before 4 gas bombs hit the intersection and it became impossible to just stand there anymore.
We had to retreat and reorganize, everyone seemed to agree and so we did....
But even when you're retreating, they had to make sure you don't come back! Even when you are doing what they planned to, you are still their enemy. You will still be attacked by gas bombs and even...... bullets!
Bullets! Yes, bullets... you hear the sound of machine guns and you run!! How shameful! How disgraceful! Running? Is that what you came to do? Afraid of death are you? afraid of bullets? of dieing!
Instinct trumps cognition.
But how shameful! They are firing bullets at us!? at their fellow citizens? Is this the last episode in the long series of our little landing over the years? Is that it? Dieing in Cairo on Egyptian hands? Egyptian police killing the same people they swore to protect with their own lives in cold blood!?
"Oh my god" couldn't satisfy my anger! "Ya Allah" couldn't leave the cage in my chest and suddenly I had no word whatsoever in my first two tongues strong enough to curse the attackers, mourn the innocent victims or even pray for deliverance
(Je crie le malheur d'Egypte!) (Je crie le malheur du Caire) (Oh dieu, Pourquoi as tu nous abandonnes) I broke out in disbelief...
Yes, then I cried the unfortunate luck of Egypt... Yes, then I cried the bad luck of Cairo and yes, I asked god how could it abandon us.
Walking freely in Kasr el Einy st. now, just the day after: checking the aftermath of the battle we just won last night, my heart couldn't help but jump in my chest.
Here is where I once cried Egypt...
Numbered in hundreds, we were clearly isolated from bigger crowds trying to reach the square or even to get to the same street we were targeting; the majority of protesters came from Giza where el-Baradei was to pray and lead a major demonstration from there.
The street was empty right then, every door was closed and so were the windows, getting closer to Kasr el Einy street, I found out the logical reason why public abandoned the street.
My throat felt so sore of a sudden and my eyes started to shed tears; obviously: I was just starting to get the slightest share of the tear gas used by police forces in Kasr el Einy street. And I wasn't even in the street yet! On the intersection between Mobtadaian and Kasr el Einy street, you could see the first real signs of the battle. People running to and from the intersection.
"What was the target again?" you start thinking..." Where am I going and why?"
Was it the street? was it the parliament? it is Tahrir square? or maybe it is where ever a painful blow to Mubarak's regime can be aimed!
Every step counted, every feet crossed in the one sided walk to change and liberty made difference and every centimeter became a cause itself.
Now, when you could see the ongoing battle in your own blurry eyes, now when you hear the sounds demanding a change, the screaming cries of pain all mingled with the thick merciless sounds of guns firing tear gas and occasionally the blunted horrible sound of a stick breaking a bone! Only now, can you feel the magnitude of the fight. Now you can see that it is nothing like movies with soundtracks to encourage the hero, nor is there a protecting angel to guide the people and deliver them. You only get your heart beats to set the rhythm, your cause to guide you and no protection whatsoever from the iron fist of injustice.
Just 10 meters before the intersection I was carried in a new stampede away from Kasr el Einy away from the attack of police attacks.
One of the protesters didn't run, obviously not satisfied with the location of the battle; of losing the few meters we fought for the last few hours in a moment and he started calling in a harsh voice: "Where are you running? Come back and fight! Don't you forget why we came here for.... We came to die for our freedom... Let's die... Let's fight and die... Come back... Fight and die"
Attracting few demonstrators and calming down the stampede, he must have been marked a main target by the police forces. Soon enough, a gas bomb hit him exactly in the chest and he fell down, losing his conscience or dead.... I will never know!
All I could see was him being carried by three fellow protesters and rushed away from the scene to any close hospital before 4 gas bombs hit the intersection and it became impossible to just stand there anymore.
We had to retreat and reorganize, everyone seemed to agree and so we did....
But even when you're retreating, they had to make sure you don't come back! Even when you are doing what they planned to, you are still their enemy. You will still be attacked by gas bombs and even...... bullets!
Bullets! Yes, bullets... you hear the sound of machine guns and you run!! How shameful! How disgraceful! Running? Is that what you came to do? Afraid of death are you? afraid of bullets? of dieing!
Instinct trumps cognition.
But how shameful! They are firing bullets at us!? at their fellow citizens? Is this the last episode in the long series of our little landing over the years? Is that it? Dieing in Cairo on Egyptian hands? Egyptian police killing the same people they swore to protect with their own lives in cold blood!?
"Oh my god" couldn't satisfy my anger! "Ya Allah" couldn't leave the cage in my chest and suddenly I had no word whatsoever in my first two tongues strong enough to curse the attackers, mourn the innocent victims or even pray for deliverance
(Je crie le malheur d'Egypte!) (Je crie le malheur du Caire) (Oh dieu, Pourquoi as tu nous abandonnes) I broke out in disbelief...
Yes, then I cried the unfortunate luck of Egypt... Yes, then I cried the bad luck of Cairo and yes, I asked god how could it abandon us.
Walking freely in Kasr el Einy st. now, just the day after: checking the aftermath of the battle we just won last night, my heart couldn't help but jump in my chest.
Here is where I once cried Egypt...