Which Egypt Will You Inherit?

Dear Seif,

Yesterday, August 15, was a day that makes me believe that William Golding’s view on humanity – woven in the classic novel “Lord of the Flies” – is absolutely correct. That humans, by nature, tip more towards being savage than civilized. I can’t really give you numbers of how many people died supporting/opposing Morsi/MB/police & army yesterday; the numbers vary depending on which media channel you watch and which friend you ask. For me, the numbers have piled up into one collective grave under one Egyptian flag.

Thankfully, we were not in Cairo when the pro-Morsi/MB sit-ins were dispersed; when the churches and government buildings were attacked or torched; when humans were dropping like the bullets that rained on them. Does it matter which side? They all bleed red. But not being in the midst of all this also weighs heavily on me. Because I feel guilty for being safe while my mom, dad, sister, nephews, relatives, and countless friends are either locked up behind curfew hours, or cross the street worrying about bullets and thugs.

The pictures and videos I am exposed to on facebook have seared my eyes and caused insomnia. It has also created a quick sand under my rock-hard belief that Egypt will never sink. Despite all the ups and downs since the Jan. 25 revolution, I always knew that Egypt would be okay. That the fate of our neighboring countries crumbling under civil war would never be our fate. Now I revise my thoughts and wonder if my feeling of assurance was plain arrogance, or naivete, or desperately holding on to that single straw that would break the camel’s back if I let go.

I’m worried about the Egypt you and Lara will inherit after our actions or inactions. Will you still be dodging bullets? Will random acts of violence become the norm? Will the memory of the safest country I have ever known become so faint, that it doesn’t seem real anymore? Will you grow to be ashamed of being Egyptian? That would sadden me beyond any words.

Already my memory is not what it used to be. On July 5th, the day after Morsi was ousted, we went for lunch at your favorite restaurant, Andrea. Andrea used to be bustling with tourists; it was sometimes hard to find a table. When a group of eight foreigners walked into the restaurant on that day, my heart sang. I realized that I hadn’t seen a group of tourists in Egypt for years. I found myself walking up to their table and asking one of the women, “Hi – are you tourists or do you live here?” When she said that some were tourists and two lived in Egypt, I told her, “You can’t imagine how happy it made my parents and I feel to see tourists in Egypt again. Thank you for visiting my country and I hope that you enjoy your stay.” I couldn’t say anything more as I was mentally commanding my welled-up tears to retreat lest I make a fool out of myself (or scare off the few tourists who dared to visit). The tourists were telling me how they enjoyed every bit of Egypt. I nodded my head and smiled and couldn’t say anything more than, “Welcome, again!” as I made my way back to my table. By then the tears drizzled out. My parents, alarmed, asked what was wrong… were the tourists being rude? No. I just missed this. It was a piece of nostalgia that drifted back on a light breeze. Simple, silly, but real.

I have such good memories of Egypt. Yeah, there was mass corruption, but there wasn’t such mass murder and mass uncertainty. Do I wish to rewind to the days before Jan. 25th, 2011? Yes. No. I don’t know. The answer is: all of the above. When you’re older, what would you be wishing for? Would reaching rock bottom all be worth it? Which Egypt will be your reality?

Love,

Your pensive mother, Rania