Over the past few weeks, I've followed the reovlution in Egypt. Like no other news story of recent time, it has kept me hooked, fuelled by the hope that the people really could bring their unwavering principles to bear on the regime that kept so many in poverty and unbearble conditions. I hoped like never before, and prayed for an outcome that would honour the deaths of those who remained staunch. I watched as Tahrir Square was flooded with people full of faith, brimming with protest at the injustices they have been forced to live with and accept again and again and again. And last night, I rejoiced at the outcome - ya Allah, these people are incredible, amazing, heroic in their insistence on justice. In their pursuit of their rights. In their refusal to be intimidated, cowed by the violence visited on them, appeased by the lies. And they are victorious. And they deserve now only peace and dignity and leaders who will respect the formidable power of their people.
This incoherent outpouring doesn't quite cover the emotion that I've felt with this whole uprising. I have felt inspiration in the power of people to bring about change. I have felt a renewal in the hope that people can make a difference, despite what govenrments and corporations and other 'leaders' would have us believe. I am a mass of motivation and desire to do my utmost. Determination. Argh!
On so many levels, I'm motivated to speak my truth more - no matter how incoherent or badly formed or poorly stated. I have (bad) form in acquiescing when that's the easier path, in not engaging in argument if I feel I will not be able to hold my own, whether through lack of knowledge or just an inability to think quick enough to answer smart enough, to fight my corner. And the thing that has inspired this particularly this morning is looking again at the below - a gallery of photos of women from Egypt, women placing themselves in the firing line. Women, the 'fairer sex' standing shoulder to shoulder with the men of their country as they shout and cry and speak out their protest. Women who I imagine are from all walks of life - some maybe high-flyers, executives, academics, writers, leaders in their fields. Others though, I think, are more like me - ordinary, not necessarily incredibly eloquent or fully versed in all the details that enable others to talk intelligently about the history, to express fluently the convoluted trails of politics and argue academically their case. But they know why they are there. They know what they feel and believe, and whether or not they are able to express it in a way that might demonstrate the acuity of their intelligence, their grasp on every fact related, it does not matter, because they express it anyway. And these pictures are testament to that. And, God!, they are beautiful in their anger and appeal. And I will take them as my own inspiration. These women. The honesty the truth the emotion that they do not fear showing.
I will be inspired. I will strive for truth. And I will learn from them not to hold back for fear of the reactions of others - especially as so often, the negative reactions only exist in my mind. I reject apathy, and reliance on the (dood) opinion of others as my guage of my own right or wrong. I will strive for honesty. I will be inspired.
Wow - I manage to take a monumental moment of history, the victory of an incredible people, and make it about me. Amazing. Hopefully the below will redress that a little.
|"Nawal El-Saadawi, leading Arab feminist/writer and one my personal heroines, at her 82 years of age, she is in Tharir Square!"|