Behind Egyptian Bars
|By Zizo Abdo|
May 25, Cairo: " May we all stay as strong and fearless of saying the truth next year and all the years follows "
That's what my cell mates told me with great enthusiasm wishing me a happy birthday, and celebrating a new year added to my account in this life .
Today I passed another year of the third decade of my life, inside one of the Egyptian crowded cells .
I was arrested on the evening of 5/5/2016 from the street, I was then sentenced to 15 days on the pending of a case against me charging me of demonstrating and promoting demonstrations !
I was then given another 15 days for further investigations, and God only knows for how long I will stay here.
My cell mates surprised me with a small celebration and a cake! an honest congratulation with a modest celebration made from the most simple supplies you can ever imagine; meant the world to me .
I start my new year with one wish; a mirror.I do want to check how do I look with all the new white hairs that invaded my head .
Have I forgotten or am I pretending to forget that I am running out of time ?
I have always run from the question “ how old are you “not out of shame, though; it was rather an attempt to overcome the truth that I haven't reached my goals yet .
I love life, I would have lived it much better if I had the chance to.
I didn't get my share of this life yet, and I didn't really look for it too. The appreciation in the eyes of the people around me whenever I tried to cheer or console them; was enough for me .
All the love and support I got was a reason for my deep gratitude to God.
I can't sleep anymore ever since I was arrested ! I am that kind of person who can't read, write, or sleep in crowded places; especially if we were 48 guys in a cell 4*8 meters.
There is literally no fist hand size space here; that's why I sit every day waiting for the other 47 cell mates to sleep ;in order to get an hour or two of privacy; The only space available is three spans in front of the restroom .
I sit there to read the letters, and newspapers I got, and to write whatever that occurs to my mind . Habits of normal life are like a virus in the deadly prison environment.
I write to you on a full moon night, I can see the moon with a great difficulty behind the iron bars, but I can still see it up there .
I write to you while a cry burst out from the cell next door " Help Us God " just before dawn .
I look at my cell mates with a bitter smile on my face, what have they ever done to sleep like rabbits on the floor ?
Can you imagine a 48 guy sleeping in such a small space ? everybody's feet is above everybody's faces, after all, we only got one span, one fist space, and there is nothing we can do about it to sleep better .
Try to measure it with your hand, one span, one fist space; that's all we ;political prisoners; have .
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