SCAF Sex Call

    I have many phone stalkers. I found the best way to deal with them is to answer the call and just leave the phone. This way they'll technically be paying you to ignore them :) Sometimes when I'm bored I'm curious to listen to what they're saying: sometimes they're dirty-mouthed sick freaks, but mostly they just blabber empty-mouthed desperate words. Sometimes they say they threaten me saying they're state security, sometimes they play recorded music or songs. Sometimes they actually sing! And I remember one actually reading me poetry...

    It's just this morning that I related: we're yelling our lungs out in vacuum. They can let us chant with their toppling, demonstrate against their torture, blog and curse at their monstrosities, make songs and movies that we imagine will expose them, sit in fasting in June in the middle of Tahrir square... But they don't even care to sometimes listen to what we have to say, as opposed to me. فاتحين السكة وسايبيننا نبؤ.

Ahmed Abou El Ela

        If you only know one thing about me, it would probably be that I hate kids. All of them. Ever since my first sit-in- the Shafik sit-in (25 Feb - 9 March) street children have been sitting-in with us. I first met Ahmed Abou El Ela during this sit-in. After it was dispersed I honestly didn't even think of him, was surprised to actually meet him at the #Jul8 sit-in. Nazly had started #TahrirSchool at the square and Ahmed was a student there. Ahmed likes to draw. One day during this last sit-in, he drew a line down the middle of the paper, and drew some stick people with a house behind them on one side. On the other side he drew a female stick person with a house behind her, and a male stick person with a house behind him. He explained that the male and female stick people were married and that the few stick people on the other side were their children. I asked him: "Shouldn't the parents and kids be living together?" He said: "No." I hated every last inconsiderate bit of myself. Ahmed took my phone and took a photo of the couple. Ever since I had developed a non-hate relationship with Ahmed. According to Ahmed, his father is a shoe-wiper at Kobri El Khashab and his mother sells vegetables. Ahmed's been missing since the sit-in was dispersed on Monday, August 1st. 

Ahmed with Leil, Lobna and Rasha in front of tent, by Lilian Wagdy

He wrote his name in my notebook

 

Saturday March 19th

I am 18 years old. Geddo is 84 years old. Today we both voted for the first time ever.

Journal: Tuesday, January 25, 2011

My first protest. Plan is to start protest in front of Cairo University.

1:45 pm: Take the metro, arrive at Sayeda Zeinab station, as soon as I am off the train, Kawkaw calls and says the protest in Cairo University is off.

 Ahmed Fouda and I start texting regularly with updates.

I head to Tahrir. As soon as I get out, incredible security, no people or cars on the streets. Everything completely quiet &  empty. Just security.

I head to Mohandessin via metro, take a cab to Mostafa Mahmoud, no protest vivid, just security. I start following bearded people. Take a left to El Batal Ahmed Abdel Azeez. Join the protest starting from Dokki bridge, marching through Tahreer street, all the way, calling “ENZEL!” to people in the balconies, and arrive at Galaa bridge, texting & receiving updates from Ahmed Fouda.

I meet a girl wearing shiny baladi clothes from 7ezb el gabha and she asks me to record her protesting using her phone. I do not know her name.

Central Security forces won’t let us cross the bridge, and we’re shouting “Selmeya, selmeya!”. We sit on the bridge, but they won’t budge. News from Ahmed Fouda that others on Asr El Nil can’t get through either. I meet Mohamed Salah, May’s colleague.

We head to sellem kobri 6 October, I meet a girl called Samar who needs to eat something, so I give her an apple from my bag, she takes a bite then gives it back and grabs my hand and we run; we need to get there fast before the CS. We arrive at the sellem and the few CS soldiers voluntarily let us through. We applaud them and shout “REGALA!”. We march across the bridge all the way to the NDP, demonstrate there for a little while, someone throws an empty plastic bottle of water at the building. “ya 7’osaret ta3abak ya Uncle Osama!!”

El 3asr. We arrive at Tahreer square, after breaking through the cordon, joining thousands there, and being joined by more thousands. Everyone chanting “AL SHA3B! YOREED! ESQAT EL NEZAM!” The voices are louder and louder as more people arrive, all doing the exact same thing at the exact same time.

I meet Samar again and break away from Salah. Samar finishes the apple.

CS forces start throwing tear gas bombs. Tear gas scratches your nose, if you inhale it'll burn your throat and numb your eyes. If you wipe your tears away it'll burn. If you put water it'll burn. We shout “SELMEYA SELMEYA!” until our burnt throats can't do any more. Some protesters start throwing rocks back. The CSF start beating the protesters and I hand out water and Dettol wipes. Wipes are used up because of the tear gas and water used up because of the beatings.

It starts getting dark and all protesters gather around the square. Someone sprays “yasqot Mubarak” on a poster of Mubarak, everyone cheers. Small groups singing the national anthem and shouting different slogans: "amn el dawla ya amn el dawla, ento amn dawlet meen, ento amn dawlet Masr walla dawlet Israel" "howa Mubarak 3ayez eih, 3ayez el sha3b ybous regleih? La ya Mubarak mesh 7anbous, bokra 3aleik bel gazma ndous" “Ya7ia el helal ma3 el saleeb” “ya Gamal oul l abouk sha3b Masr byekrahouk” “Allaho Akbar!” “3alli w 3alli w 3alli el sot, elli 7ayehtef mesh 7aymout” “3eish! 7orreya! karama egtema3eya! 3eish! 7orreya! Karama insaneya!” “Hosny Mubarak ya gaban ya 3ameel el Amreecan” “er7al er7al ya Mubarak, olli meen fel sha3b e7’tarak” “er7al, er7al ya Mubarak, el tayara f entezarak!” “yasqot yasqot 7osni Mubarak”. Now everyone in the same time “AL SHA3B! YOUREED! ESQAT EL NEZAM!!!”

The people pray in prayer times and hush anyone who’s chanting.

A Christian woman starts saying that she wished people knew that both Christians AND Muslims want change and that they are one. Another Muslim woman wearing a black 3abaya tells her that she was raised by her Christian neighbor.

I meet a journalist reporter covering for Al Wafd.

They cut out the phone coverage, BBMs went out first. I can’t reach mom or Ahmed Fouda.

It’s 7 PM and I decide to head home. I take a cab because the metro’s not working. My plan is to get mom and go back. Mom doesn’t let me go back.

I am on the internet searching about news about the protests. The network is back. Online for two hours, with a never-fading smile.

I start feeling the painful blisters on my right foot. I cannot sleep at night, in my head “AL SHA3B YOUREED ESQAT EL NEZAM”.

http://linuxoutlaws.com/files/egypt-jan25.jpg