The second country that I loved after America was Egypt. My roots, my culture, my family are still alive in Egypt. I have lived the last seventeen years of my life learning about two countries: my home and what I call the motherland. On February 10, 2011, my heart broke for my motherland. I looked at the streets where I once walked, where so much of my family history lay and saw a broken country.
|RedEye covers the Egyptian revolution
A week ago today I saw the most beautiful sight I have seen come out of Egypt and the words to accompany it gave me hope. I saw an image of Coptic Christians forming a barricade to protect their Muslim brothers as they held their Friday prayers. The next day I heard that the Muslims told the Copts that they would protect them as they held a service in the square on Sunday. This news brought the biggest smile to my face. After centuries of strife, both religions have bonded together for a few days to fight for the same cause. By reading this, you probably think that I am ecstatic that Mubarak has stepped down, but all I can say right now is that I don’t know.
As everyone is screaming and hugging each other, I sit in silence. I don’t know what is going to happen to my Egypt and it is the most unsettling thing in the world. The military is going to take over and I pray that they do an amazing job. I hope that they can offer Egypt what it deserves and what it has fought for. As I watched Mubarak’s speech yesterday, I tried my best to hear what he was trying to say because the CNN translator was not the best. My mom and I were straining our ears to try and hear and for thirty minutes we were going back and forth believing that Mubarak resigned and that he didn’t.
After I received a summary from my dear Facebook friends, I was surprised that he was still president. As I looked at the last pharaoh of Egypt I secretly wished he was not as everyone said. I wanted him to be the president he was 30 years ago that knew how to control situations, but as I looked at him all I saw was a man who acted a little too late. It was then that my emotions soared. I looked at my people and my heart broke. I saw little kids and the only thing I could think when I saw them was that they should be in school learning to better their country. Then at that moment, as if in a movie, a song started playing through my mind. It was a Nancy Ajram song that I heard many years ago and translated it says, “If I asked you if you are Egyptian, say yes I’m Egyptian, son of an Egyptian, son of Egypt, blessed by God.” I do not know the future of Egypt and I can’t pretend to know, but I can say that I hope a better tomorrow comes to the Egyptians.