Alexandria Retains Dignity

March chanting 'Freedonm'Caricature of Carlos Latuff of the famous Tahrir woman.

When it comes to Egyptian women, Egyptian men will never be silenced

Highlights of Alexandia, on Friday 23rd of December.

Alexandria just like every other governorate, breathes freedom. The people of Alexandria are pumped with energy, raised by the flame of rage SCAF have implanted inside each and every one of them. This rage is expressed in a wave of men and women marching the streets of Alexandira. Both men and women protesters avenge martyr’s blood, and tahrir women who were sexually assaulted infront of the world.

Therefore, in return they decide to scream, expload, burst into a hundred chants, no more silence, no more keeping quiet.

I decide to write highlights of today’s protests because Alexandria is nothing less than Tahrir. The people of Alexandria stamp the coast of Egypt, with uproar pride of winning this battle.

Chants varied from those about Martyrs, to those againts SCAF, to chants about Tahrir woman and finally chants concerning Muslim brotherhood.

There were a couple of ladies with the microphone, dressed in black, one of them held a picture of one of the martyrs up high and they both had that grief look on their faces and eyes. If you couldn’t tell from that, well you had the view of them screaming their hearts on the microphone, different chants, to prove their broken hearts. They were powerful women, women who crossed the taboo of keeping themselves low-guarded, or as Egyptians would put it, keeping themselves near the wall. They were strong, they had a heart that was bruised, and that heart had many stories to tell, many souls re-lived, souls of the dead still roaming our streets.

When the chants directed towards a more discomfortable topic, SCAF, chants got louder, more agressive. There isn’t much to describe, but dertermination about them being anywhere but our side, and Egypt belongs to its people. Therefore, SCAF does not belong in the equation.

The minute you hear women’s voice outweigh men’s, the minute you see the leaders of the march are a group of women, the minute you hear the words, ‘our daughters’, ‘exposed’, ‘A women stronger than a hundred men’; that minute you know they’re just like the rest of the world. Like the rest of the world, who puts their feet down to sexual assualt, against exactly what happened to the famous ‘blue-bra woman’. I would have preferred not mentioning that nickname, but sadly that’s what she’s famous for. For all who are reading this, and know her as ‘blue-bra girl’, please, let it known to you and the rest of the world that she is what we, Egyptians, call ‘Tahrir woman’, or as Twitter would put it #TahrirWoman. Women have marched alone, symbolically, and now both women and men march with pride to how Egyptian women have become as they call themselves, the red line.

To a more selfish topic, I remember walking near the area where all the marches will gather for mass-protesting. I remember the look on every protesters face seeing how packed it had already been before us even joining them, I remember the sparkle in their eyes. Even though I couldn’t see my eyes glow, I could see it through everybody else’s. In that instant, the leader chanted “Alexandria, we did it, we made it a million man march, without the brotherhood, without the brotherhood.” I remember I kept my eyes over 2 ladies who were in niquabs, it was because I was anxious what got them here when their representative asked them not to join. To my surprise they were chanting, they were chanting solemnly and merely. I guess that moment gave me hope, hope that actually those who support them might have realised that it’s not a two direction feeling. They might actually have popped their bubbles, opened their eyes to the main reason why the brotherhood wanted Mubarak out. To take his place instead.

Banners of all sorts were everywhere, my favourites are the ones published with this post. one of which, a caricature, work of the famous yet criticised artist Carlos Latuff, showing Tahrir woman as being some sort of comic super-lady. The other, which is the banner held by a man up high, its translation: A message to my precious sister, I’m sorry, sorry for everything. They’re the ones who were exposed and not you.

I would go on and on typing words of how bewildered it felt today being around the bustle of all this. But I wont, all I have to tell you is this. It’s priceless to feel the air of democracy, you should try it.


About moesolitary

Mixed up between what I want to be and what I think I want to be. For now, I believe I want to be a writer. I belong between words and book. Thoughts linger as poems. I'm a proud Egyptian.

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