My Country Is Dying

In the past couple of hours I have been trying to put myself together into writing this. It’s not that I can’t find the right words. Cause I can. I really can. It’s that I’ve been weighing between laying the reality or just a sugared, varnished version. I know we usually tend to ignore the good stuff and decide to focus the lens on the bad stuff. But that’s just because there are some stuff you just can’t ignore. And there are some stuff you just can’t turn a blind eye to. I know this because I have tried. I have tried to just find the good in this country, and I have, but they’re just not enough. Every single time I find my gate to a smile, I am trampled upon by a stampede of flaws upon flaws upon other flaws, storming out of that very same gate. And I try to stay content about it. I try to convince myself that anywhere around the globe I will face this same issue. But no. I won’t find a graffiti on the train I just just got off of “نعم للختان، لا للهياجان” (TT: Yes to female genital mutilation -FGM-, No to horniness). Yes, as filthy as just stated. And no one bothered to wipe it off. Because they’re too busy painting over the revolutionary graffitis on their precious expensive buildings and dirt-black walls. Yes, in my country we have it this way. In my country, women are abused. Yes, in my country women are manipulated. In my country, ignorance is a disease. Period.


Let’s stop and stare at that word for a minute. Because it is our black hole. It is our cancer, our diabetes, our hepatitis, our bilharziasis, and our TB. It is why you, the reader, feel unbelonged. Because you can read, and interpret and perceive. And that in itself is a blessing when 60% -if not more- of your country can’t do any of that. But the ability to read, write and articulate shouldn’t be a blessing, it should be a human right. But it isn’t. Yes, in my country our basic human needs are ignored because it is why the big men are on the big chairs. It is why our politicians are able to stand out in a crowd that cheer for them because they were promised by them -the fabricators- a loaf of bread. They never got the bread. Neither did they get the books. Neither did they get the pens. Neither did they get their other basic human needs.

Maybe I’ve been born amid the privileged of this country. I have been to places, seen civilization, tasted a sense of not-so-impossible cultivation. And the bitterness of the obliviousness I experience every single day will be the end of me. Will be the end of you. Will be the end of my county.

Ignorance is a disease. We are diseased. My country is dying. My country is dying of cancer, diabetes, hepatitis, bilharziasis, and TB. My county is dying of ignorance and there is just not enough therapy in the world to save it. There is just not enough goodness in the world to save it.

Unless the people revolt. Revolt in their minds and their hearts as equally powerful as they did on Tahrir grounds. Unless the people decide to wake up.


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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