In progress...

I started writing this post on Jan 31st 2011
Everything was happening too quickly for me to grasp it, and I was attempting to pause it for seconds & take in what I was experiencing.

I never got the chance to finish this post, and I don't think I will anytime soon.

I suddenly remembered! I never got a chance to finish it cause we got suddely cut off from the last means of connecting to the internet. I even sent out 2 "speak to tweet" s one in English & one in Arabic  (with a small message to my brother & his wife :) )



Anyway, I thought I'd publish it just as it is, unfnished just like our revolution: A story that is still in progress, still unfolding & still wonderfully dazzling me with surprises.

*********

When I wrote here a week ago asking people to be part of January 25th protest the reason I gave was that each one of us deserves to live this special moment where you chant in unity with strangers as you are walking down the streets feeling that you own these streets. Never had I expected this moment I was urging everyone to seek to extend for 7 continuous days, and certainly I wouldn't have predicted to be that overwhelmingly powerful and warm.

I love this country.
When I was young I formed several images of it, and over the years my main concern was to keep those images as pure and unspoilt as possible.
It was hard. It was so damn hard.
I had dreams for me here that were repeatedly smashed and I was afraid of the day I'd be too exhausted to collect the pieces. That I will just give up, pack and leave.

I wanted to work in a country where i don't have to wait several moths, going through a rediculous amount of bureaucratic paperwork just to get my salary which is little anyway.
I wanted to give birth to kids in a country without fearing I would lose them like Khaled said's mom lost her precious son.
I wanted to live in a country where if i got harassed in the street I wouldn't refrain from complaining to the police for fear of more harassment.

My brother once told me I have romanticized  my perception of Egypt, I realise in so many situation I did that. It was my only way of surviving, living Egypt blind to the cruel side of it. But this time, these days, I am really living Egypt and Egypt is really beautiful. The people are great, and every day they present me with new surprise.

Jan25th

I was amazed


Away from the spotlight: The true revolutionaries



Photo by Neil Pollick

 " Revolution is no fun" I screamed out in frustration.

My mother looked at me quizzically, I elaborated " I thought after Tahrir it will be gone, it will be one glorious continuous burst of colors, but they couldn't, the army just couldn't let us enjoy our victory"
She hugged me smiling as she said " When your working on human rights violations it can never be over"

When Mobarak left.
No, Let me rephrase that: When we forced Mubarak to step down.

On that beautiful day I found myself crying among thousands of strangers, Zagharit filling the air, shaking hands and taking photographs with crazy smiling screaming strangers, I thought there will be no more heart ache, there will only be time for us to get over the ordeals of the past.

Then came the day I got a reality slap: Februery 26th
It was awful. It was awful because we weren't prepared and they cheated us. It was awful because minutes before the army beat the crap out of us, there was a young man spreading a blanket to sleep on and his friend asked him if he isn't worried atall and his answer was " The army is here, Nothing could worry me"

Minutes later the army was dispersing the crowd with electric probes, running after them , dragging them while kicking and cursing.
I can still remember the scary sound of electric shocks. I can still remember Amr El Beheiry's helpess look as he was dragged behind the army line, to be handed back to us minutes later all bruised and with a bleeding nose.

Minutes later Amr got arrested again, tortured,and beaten up.
Over the following 3 days he would face military trial over forged charges, in absence of his family and lawyer as they were misinformed of the date of his trial, and in minutes he'd get sentenced 5 years.
Amr was arrested on Saturday the 26th of February, He was sentenced Monday the 28th.

But Amr was just the begining.
Amr was our peek into the backstage of the revolution: While thousands of Egyptians were celebrating our patriotic army, chanting " The army and the people are one hand", thousands others were getting silently crushed by the army.
Families were losing their kids for years of imprisonment over made up accusations, wives were losing their husbands just because they happened to be on the street at a time when the army were totally clueless as to how to deal with this alien situation so they thought " Lock them up, we'll sort it out later"

To some families this is their only share of the revolution: Endless trips to distant prisons where their men were sent off, tens of letters pleading to the mercy of Chief Tantawi to review their sons' cases, numerous trips from one prison to the other trying to findout the whereabouts of their husbands, sneaky phonecalls from their sons in prison assuring them they are fine.

But in all of these bleak moments you would see the real revolution that is taking place, you would see it in:
*Om Sameer, bravely defying an army officer telling him " You told us our sons were heroes, you pretended to support them in their revolution but now you imprison & torture them, if you had told us from the begining they were criminals, we would have locked them up at home & forbid them to go to Tahrir"

Om Ahmed , taking a weekly trip El Wadi El Gedid prison, a trip that takes 2 days, and collecting all info of prisoners inside & their stories and bringing it to us so we can work on their cases.

Om Hassan bravely telling Chief Tantawi " Even if he did something wrong, he should be tried in a civil court"

Dina , deciding to get married to her fiancee the moment she knew his 5 year imprisonment sentence got ratified.

As international media obsesses about " twitter revolution", "role of social media", " Role of women" &   " Fear of MB"
As our media obsesses about " Lack of security", " The Israeli Spy" & " lack of stability"
As we obsess about " Consitution 1st", " elections 1st", " National coalition" & "National dialogue"

Away from all this media frenzy, a battle is taking place and it is lead by the true revolutionaries.


* "Om" means "mother of"

شهادة احتجاز و انتهاك

يوم الثلاثاء 22 فبراير كان فيه دعوة لاعتصام في التحرير. الاعتصام فض بالقوة و تم القبض على مجموعة من المعتصمين. التالي شهادة احدهم:

الاربعاء 23 فبراير الصباح الباكر تم القبض عليه مع 28 فرد منهم بنتين و سيدة بواسطة الشرطة العسكرية, و اتنقلوا للمتحف المصري, هناك اتكتفوا خلفي , و ااتخدت موبايلاتهم و فلوسهم و عصبت اعينهم و نقلوهم لمكان - تبين فيما بعد انه وحدة س 28 نيابات في العاشر- وقفوهم طبور ذنب و وقفوهم في الشمس بالساعات, و فكوا العصابات اللي على عينهم. 

المجموعة اتعرضت للضرب في البطن و الصدر, و كهرباء في مناطق مختلفة من الجسم, بالاضافة ل تحرشات بالبنات .

اطلق سراح المجموعة مساء ذلك اليوم.

لحد هنا و تنتهي الشهادة بتاعته لاننا كان المفروض ناخد منه تفاصيل اكتر في الاعتصام,و اخد تفاصيل شهادة واحدة من البنات, بس الاعتصام تم فضه بالقوة منذ ساعتين.

Tuesday 22nd February there was a call for a sit in in Tahrir square. The sit in was violently dispersed and some were arrested. This is a brief testimony from one of those who got detained:

Early Wednesday 23rd of February they arrested 29 of us. Among them were 2 girls & a woman, they were taken to Egyptian Museum  where their hand were tied behind their back, mobiles & money taken, blindfolded and transferred somewhere -later turns out it was military prosecutor unit in 'asher- They were put in a line and left to stand for hours in the sun. The blindfolds were removed.

The group was beaten up, punches in chest & stomach. They were tasered - electric shock rods- in different part of their bodies, in addition sexual molestation of the girls.

The group was released later that day.

We were supposed to get a more detailed description of the assault & a testimony of one of the girls who was with them, but the sit in we were gathered in was violently dispersed  just a couple of hrs ago.

I am exhausted!

I can't sleep. My head won't stop and give me a moment to rest. Too many precious moments need to be etched in my memory and I have no time to linger on them.
I feel Like crying, laughing and screaming.
Images are racing by, I need to capture them. Just spit any vague words to remind me of them later. When Mobarak leaves I'll have the time to stop at every image and savor it, for now this has to be enough:

They hit us bad. They shot tear gas at us, I saw ppl running and screaming, and all i can remember is the tweeted instructions " Do not rub ur eyes" I tried, I really tried, but my eyes were on fire, I didn't rub them though but ended up walking blindly into a wall. Then someone carried me up onto a small garden in the middle of Tahrir square, helped me and stayed there to make sure I am ok while bombs were still falling around us. This was 1 of many strangers I would momentarily bond with over the next dew days.

Then they beat everyone up. Total chaos. Rocks, Batoons, Water from fre trucks, I saw many wounded, minor wounds but they shocked me, I didn't know yet that this was nothing compared to what awaits us in the next few days. Amidst all this my dear JarelKamar came running at me, shielded my back with his body and ran with me away from the flying rocks.

A while later I felt more at ease wt all these gases and flying rocks. I came prepared for minor injuries, so I walked around to check if anyone needs help. I tended to a few wounded then came 4 guys running at me, they looked like the kind of guys I would normally avoid in the street for fear of sexual harassment, but they were running for my help, one of them was injured from a rock thrown at him by the police, I helped them with it which was followed by a moment of them cheering me and my gad3ana . This was just so wonderful.
Ofcourse it helped that I had a recent scar on my chin with stitches which they asked me about and to which I laughingly said " I fell at work yesterday, I came to the demo fully prepared wt my own scar" and we laughed together before running again

I walked the streets with men and women, of all sorts of backgrounds. Never have I felt a sense of belonging like then, like now. I was happy just to be in the streets sitting in close proximity with thousands of strangers, snuggled in a warm cocoon, liberating Tahrir square, marking it as ours.

There is much more to tell. Many stories that must be told. I owe it to the people who allowed me to briefly share it with them, but I am really exhausted now.

Around me, friends are sleeping on couches, on the floor, in any empty space they can find.

I call them friends eventhough half of them I've never met before this week, but so many things happened, together we shared intensely charged emotional days that we became friends rapidly.

Yesterday I was terrified, I was freaked out like never before. I was shaking in bed trying to convince myself to sleep. I actually thought of writing a note and posting it on my fridge incase I died. Now I feel elated.

I have lived to see the uprise of the Egyptian people and the downfall of Mobarak . I can dream about having kids and me telling them proudly that I was part of this extraordinary moment.

This is my place.

These are my people,

and we just seized our country back.

Long Live the Revolution of The Egyptian People