Fragments from My Revolution.
Will add other more whenever I find the mental space to write
|Mama & Baba before I was born ( I Think :) )|
They say our revolution started the day we took over Tahrir square on January 25th, I say it started long before that.
That day we marched to Tahrir square, we all went there carrying our own revolution with us. Small stories, that have been unfolding over the years. Small moments and incidents, that ultimately made each one of us wake up on the morning of January 25th and march towards Tahrir square.
My story, my own revolution started the day my father and my mother decided to conceive not just out of love but out of defiance.
I was born while my dad was in prison.
In 1985 he was sentenced to spend 5 years in prison for daring to defy Mubarak & his regime. When the verdict came mama was abroad, so Baba stayed tucked away and with the help of their friends, mama joined him with my brother Alaa.
Mama & baba wanted a baby girl, and mama thought having a new baby to care for would soften the coming years without Baba. So they stayed away, took their time in creating me and in bidding each other farewell.
When they confirmed Mama's pregnancy in me, Baba went and turned himself in.
Revolutions are created by such defiant gestures. Small personal gestures that collectively toppled the regime.
The moment Baba kissed Mama's stomach knowing I was in there, was the moment Tahrir became inevitably my destination.