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Fiction

Bahaa and Shareef Escape to New York

By Ezzedine Fishere
Translated from Arabic by Jonathan Smolin
Two men in a devout Muslim community face drastic consequences when they publicize their relationship in this excerpt from a novel by Egyptian writer Ezzedine Fishere.

Shareef can’t believe how much he loves Bahaa and how little he cares about the consequences. This love was maybe his last chance to get a good grip on his emotional security and self-confidence. But to do that, Shareef knew he had to do something else—he had to come out of the closet. The problem was that Bahaa wanted to keep their relationship secret, something that Shareef grumbled about constantly. And, over time, Shareef’s grumblings turned into rejection, then rebellion and, finally, crisis.

The crisis started the day after Mother’s Day, when the family celebrated Shareef’s mother’s sixtieth birthday. She tells Shareef that she’s got a bride for him. He’ll propose to her and they’ll get married after he graduates, she says. Shareef tells Bahaa he can’t keep living in the closet and he needs them to come out once and for all. Bahaa looks at him for a long time—he knows Shareef’s serious since he constantly brings it up—but this time, from his tone of voice and the look on his face, he senses something’s different. Bahaa objects and tries to make Shareef understand that it’ll be suicide and that it’s not just about him but about Bahaa too, their families, friends, and a whole society with all its cultural and historical garbage piled up through the ages.

But Shareef’s determined. And Bahaa keeps objecting. He tells Shareef he’s looking at the situation through his own eyes, not from the perspective of his lover. Bahaa takes Shareef by the shoulders and, laughing, says he has to stop playing leading man and try to see things from someone else’s point of view. But Shareef’s not listening. He defends himself and his idea passionately, not leaving any room for argument. Bahaa understands his choices: either give in to Shareef and head off on this potentially dangerous adventure or back out calmly then and there. That’ll be painful but he’ll live. And Shareef will eventually understand why he couldn’t go along with it.

There’s a third option they talk about a bunch of times: leaving Egypt and settling down somewhere else, probably New York. Bahaa thinks it’s crazy when Shareef brings it up for the first time. How are we going to get there? It’s not that easy. How will we even get a visa? And work? Where would they get the money? What’ll we do in New York where we don’t know anyone? At the time, Shareef gave only vague responses: he’s got some friends who’ll help them; he has some money; a new life, freedom; and just think about it, New York! Shareef brings up the idea from time to time but he drops it as soon as Bahaa protests.

They don’t agree. They keep talking about it for eight days, face to face and on Whatsapp. Bahaa knows it might be the end of their life in Egypt, but he also understands that refusing would be the end of his life with Shareef.

And he doesn’t want to lose Shareef. Maybe because it’s the only relationship he’s ever had. Maybe because it brought him the stability he didn’t know he’d been looking for. Maybe because Shareef, despite his self-centeredness, makes him happy. Maybe because with Shareef, he found some measure of happiness in the middle of his otherwise difficult life.

At the end of the eighth day, Bahaa tells him he’s not convinced but he won’t give him up. He’ll go along with it but only if they get ready to leave right now. They’ve got to have an emergency plan in case the situation explodes in their face. And that was that.

The catastrophe spread so quickly I don’t think they could’ve grasped the repercussions at that moment. They decide to come out first to their inner circle. Shareef posts two lines on Facebook, only for close friends. He writes that all love is legitimate and that he and Bahaa are lovers and that the freedom to choose is the right of every individual, even if the majority disagrees with this choice.

He and Bahaa sit waiting for the response. No one comments for several minutes but then private messages pour in asking questions. The two re-explain what Shareef wrote, and that’s when things start getting out of hand.

One of their friends asks why they think anyone cares about their sexual life. Or if they want to embarrass them by pretending to be some kind of heroes. And why right now, in the middle of the unfinished revolution? Some friends say it’s political—and stupid—since all they’re doing is serving the Muslim Brotherhood by disfiguring liberalism by linking it with sexual deviancy. Shareef responds with something about freedom and not giving it only to some people. But his friends say that freedom has limits in every society and these are its limits in Egypt at the moment.

Some of his gay acquaintances send alarmed messages. Why’d you do this? Why’d you expose the world’s hatred and open the gates of hell on us? Why are you being so narcissistic? Do you want to be famous? Do you want asylum in a foreign country on the backs of those of us forced to stay in this swamp?

Like that, of the dozens of people they thought were their closest friends, only very few defend their right to choose. And they, too, quickly disappear and cut off contact with them, even on Facebook. Everyone’s finished with them, thinking that all they’re doing is trying to get famous, that they’re not only acting capriciously but also putting themselves and their friends in danger.

That’s when Shareef flies off the handle. All of a sudden, he grabs his telephone and, with two taps on the screen, he changes the audience of the announcement from “close friends” to “public.” Without even asking Bahaa. And things get even crazier from there.

Bahaa’s screams of protest and his uncharacteristic anger last a minute or two as Shareef’s Facebook page sits quiet. Then the messages start coming. Without stop. “Friends” announce their shock at Bahaa and Shareef while others regret trusting them. Some wonder if they’ve secretly been raping children or preying on kids. Supporters of the ruling Islamists condemn them, as expected, by the hundreds, with abuse and threats, condemning them to hell. And then come hundreds of “virtuous” revolutionary youth who denounce them, wondering about the nature of their “plot” against the revolution and whether they’re “pawns.” That’s how their announcement was quickly turned into yet another battleground for the political conflict raging in the country. As for the personal angle of their announcement, it’s pretty much ignored.

Shareef gets a message from Jihan, his former “beard,” and she writes just one word: “despicable.” Then Tamer,  Shareef and Bahaa’s boss, contacts Shareef and gives them the choice between submitting their resignations immediately or getting fired. Tamer says he has twenty-four hours to decide and tells him not to come to work no matter what. He’ll collect their things and send them to them. He’s totally unrelenting.

Bahaa’s furious at Shareef. Making a decision like that on his own is a crime in and of itself. It reflects either a pathological self-centeredness or a hidden contempt for Bahaa, a conviction that he’s nothing more than a piece of flesh. Bahaa tells him that if it wasn’t for the circumstances, he’d leave him immediately. Shareef’s angry too and tells Bahaa he’s only proving he doesn’t understand how deep Shareef’s problems are. But they don’t have time to keep fighting. Things get totally out of control a few hours later when their families get involved.

Shareef’s sister is the first to call. Clearly upset, she tells him that his Facebook page has been hacked and that whoever did it posted some disgraceful things there to harm him. Shareef smiles and tells her the page wasn’t hacked. She’s quiet for a while and then asks in a broken voice: “What do you mean it wasn’t hacked? Did you see what they wrote?” Shareef responds mechanically that she must mean what he posted about his relationship with Bahaa. She’s silent for a long time and then stutters: “Yes . . . but . . . really?” And he replies: “Yes.” Then she asks him: “Have you gone crazy? What’s this? What are you saying? You? Shareef?” He tells her again: “Yes.” She keeps asking questions, disparaging him, incapable of believing it. Maybe he’s made a mistake, maybe there’s some kind of treatment, maybe . . .

He tries to keep calm and respond patiently as she stammers on. She then says something about the family. Hasn’t he thought about his mother, father, relatives, them, and even her? “What’s this selfishness? This is a nightmare. You’ve gone insane. What’s happened to you? May God destroy the revolution. This is what we got from it. I can’t believe it!” She breaks out in tears as she hangs up.

His sister’s reaction was a tame preview for how the rest of the family reacted. His father has the same message for him but he’s cruel, harsh, and violent. That, in addition to the slap across his face. His father tells him in a grave, melodramatic voice that Shareef is no son of his and that he’ll renounce him unless he not only backs off this nonsense and declares his Facebook page was hacked but also deactivates this “cursed” page and finds a treatment for his “abnormality.” As far as his father’s concerned, the atmosphere inundating the country poisoned Shareef and all his son wants is to be different from everyone else. Shareef’s relatives then disappear and not just from his Facebook page. His family completely abandons him.

The most painful response comes from his mother, who doesn’t even acknowledge the situation. It seemed like she’d aged years as she became all gloomy and her face looked dried out. She didn’t call him so he went to see her. She comes out of her room a half hour after he gets there with a glassy look on her face like she doesn’t even see him. She asks him about work and if he’s eating well, about his apartment and if it’s clean, and then nothing. When he tells her he wants to talk about something sensitive, she gets up and says she’s tired, that she doesn’t have the energy for sensitive subjects. She pats him on the shoulder somewhat tenderly and leaves, going back to her room.

The response of Bahaa’s family was much simpler. They call him to the house and when he gets there, he finds them all waiting for him. One of his brothers asks if what his “boyfriend” wrote on Facebook is true. Bahaa nods shyly and that’s when the three brothers beat the crap out of him until their father says it’s enough. They stop, leaving Bahaa crumpled on the ground with bruises on his face, arms, and legs. His father gets up, spits on Bahaa, and leaves. His oldest brother tells him that he’s kicked out of the house and it’s forbidden for him to come back, call, or even return to their neighborhood. If he does, they’ll turn him in to the police on some cooked-up charge and get rid of him and his filth forever. He then tosses a bag of his clothes in his face and tells him to get out. During all this, his mother hid her face in her veil so no one could see her tears.

Of course, there’s a campaign of support for Shareef and Bahaa. People they don’t even know and they’ve never met before take it upon themselves to defend their right to choose. At first, Shareef and Bahaa are dazzled by hashtags like #TheRightToChoose and #InSolidarityWithBahaaAndShareef. Famous bloggers, revolutionary leaders, writers, and media types join the campaign and many ask to interview them in an act of solidarity. At first, the two agree. Some of these famous people come and take photos with them and put them up on Instagram and other social media. Then they disappear, except for some comments from time to time reaffirming their solidarity.

Shareef and Bahaa expected most of this, if not the campaign of solidarity by opportunists. But expectation is one thing and experience is something else. It’s easy to say “My family will cut me off” or “they’ll be disgraced and they’ll toss me out like garbage.” But when that really happens to you, you feel this silence, this coldness, this alienation between you and your mother. The sharpness surprised them, as did the sharp pain they felt.

They didn’t expect it. They didn’t know how it would feel. And what’s more, they didn’t get any satisfaction from coming out. Even Shareef—and this whole thing started because being in the closet was his own personal crisis—even he didn’t feel any catharsis. Instead, it was the opposite. His feelings of oppression, isolation, and self-incrimination only increased. These were simmering inside him all the years he lived in the closet and masqueraded around. He was thinking that coming out would put an end to these feelings but it only brought them out in the open. The sense of isolation and oppression closed in on him everywhere he went: on the street, at work, and even on Facebook.

A deep silence settled in on their life. It enveloped them and isolated them from the world, almost like they were in a fish tank. Their professional life is over after they’re fired. Shareef tells Bahaa not to worry since they can create their own business and concentrate on clients outside of Egypt. And Bahaa doesn’t say anything. His anger at Shareef prevents him from talking openly about it. He’s devastated at what’s happening and that prevents him from stirring up anything between them.

At any rate, their social life collapses. No friends, no acquaintances, and no family, of course. No one. Shareef isn’t all of a sudden part of the “gay group”—neither is Bahaa—and now they’re not part of any group. They go to Left Bank in the middle of this storm and when they walk in the door, the place goes silent. Most of the people there know them but they get completely quiet when they see the two come in. And those who don’t know them get quiet since they’re surprised by this sudden wave of silence. Ahmed Eid, our common friend, is nice to them, as always. He takes their orders and brings them a plate of fruit gratuit. But the tension in the place overwhelms everything and after five minutes, Bahaa says he can’t stand it anymore so Shareef pays the bill and they get up to go, ignoring Ahmed’s polite protests.

The silence weighs on them. But then the real catastrophe happens. And it takes only a few minutes. They’re in the apartment one evening and, at exactly ten o’clock, there’s a bang on the door. Bahaa gets up to see who it is and when he opens the door, two men grab him while a bunch of people, including some neighbors, rush into the apartment. The two are arrested and taken to the police station to stand before the public prosecutor the next morning. And the police do what you’d expect. The two weren’t raped, thank God, but they were beaten and humiliated much worse than ever before or since. Pictures of them on their way to the station spread online. And there are other pictures of them almost naked, probably right after they were beaten and their clothes stripped off at the station. They’re transferred to the prosecutor in the morning where they face a number of charges, including depravity, abomination, and immorality.

The public prosecutor is sympathetic to them. He says it’s the neighbors—the owner of the apartment in particular—who got the police involved. The police weren’t thrilled about arresting them but the owner and the neighbors said they’ll break down the door and deal with Shareef and Bahaa themselves if the police don’t do something. So the police and prosecutor figure they’ll keep the peace by arresting Bahaa and Shareef. That’s when the prosecutor issues the investigation and arrest warrant.

The case was all over the papers, and with pictures. Shareef and Bahaa were shattered by it all—the arrest, the detention, the prosecutor’s “investigation,” the medical examiner, and all the stories and coverage. And worst of all for them was having it come from their neighbors, who they’d always gotten along with.

Lucky for them some NGOs get hold of the story on the night of their arrest and send lawyers to help them before the prosecutor. The prosecutor decides to release them on bail until the trial and tells their lawyer to stay in touch with him while they’re out. The lawyer gives them keys to his own apartment and then goes to their place to get their clothes and all the personal things that the police didn’t seize or destroy, most importantly their passports. The next morning, Shareef and Bahaa buy tickets to New York on different airlines and the next day they leave Egypt for good.


From
 كل هذا الهراء [Kul Haza Alhura’a]. Published 2017 by Al-Karma Publishers. © 2017 Ezzedine Choukri Fishere. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2017 by Jonathan Smolin. All rights reserved.

English Arabic (Original)

Shareef can’t believe how much he loves Bahaa and how little he cares about the consequences. This love was maybe his last chance to get a good grip on his emotional security and self-confidence. But to do that, Shareef knew he had to do something else—he had to come out of the closet. The problem was that Bahaa wanted to keep their relationship secret, something that Shareef grumbled about constantly. And, over time, Shareef’s grumblings turned into rejection, then rebellion and, finally, crisis.

The crisis started the day after Mother’s Day, when the family celebrated Shareef’s mother’s sixtieth birthday. She tells Shareef that she’s got a bride for him. He’ll propose to her and they’ll get married after he graduates, she says. Shareef tells Bahaa he can’t keep living in the closet and he needs them to come out once and for all. Bahaa looks at him for a long time—he knows Shareef’s serious since he constantly brings it up—but this time, from his tone of voice and the look on his face, he senses something’s different. Bahaa objects and tries to make Shareef understand that it’ll be suicide and that it’s not just about him but about Bahaa too, their families, friends, and a whole society with all its cultural and historical garbage piled up through the ages.

But Shareef’s determined. And Bahaa keeps objecting. He tells Shareef he’s looking at the situation through his own eyes, not from the perspective of his lover. Bahaa takes Shareef by the shoulders and, laughing, says he has to stop playing leading man and try to see things from someone else’s point of view. But Shareef’s not listening. He defends himself and his idea passionately, not leaving any room for argument. Bahaa understands his choices: either give in to Shareef and head off on this potentially dangerous adventure or back out calmly then and there. That’ll be painful but he’ll live. And Shareef will eventually understand why he couldn’t go along with it.

There’s a third option they talk about a bunch of times: leaving Egypt and settling down somewhere else, probably New York. Bahaa thinks it’s crazy when Shareef brings it up for the first time. How are we going to get there? It’s not that easy. How will we even get a visa? And work? Where would they get the money? What’ll we do in New York where we don’t know anyone? At the time, Shareef gave only vague responses: he’s got some friends who’ll help them; he has some money; a new life, freedom; and just think about it, New York! Shareef brings up the idea from time to time but he drops it as soon as Bahaa protests.

They don’t agree. They keep talking about it for eight days, face to face and on Whatsapp. Bahaa knows it might be the end of their life in Egypt, but he also understands that refusing would be the end of his life with Shareef.

And he doesn’t want to lose Shareef. Maybe because it’s the only relationship he’s ever had. Maybe because it brought him the stability he didn’t know he’d been looking for. Maybe because Shareef, despite his self-centeredness, makes him happy. Maybe because with Shareef, he found some measure of happiness in the middle of his otherwise difficult life.

At the end of the eighth day, Bahaa tells him he’s not convinced but he won’t give him up. He’ll go along with it but only if they get ready to leave right now. They’ve got to have an emergency plan in case the situation explodes in their face. And that was that.

The catastrophe spread so quickly I don’t think they could’ve grasped the repercussions at that moment. They decide to come out first to their inner circle. Shareef posts two lines on Facebook, only for close friends. He writes that all love is legitimate and that he and Bahaa are lovers and that the freedom to choose is the right of every individual, even if the majority disagrees with this choice.

He and Bahaa sit waiting for the response. No one comments for several minutes but then private messages pour in asking questions. The two re-explain what Shareef wrote, and that’s when things start getting out of hand.

One of their friends asks why they think anyone cares about their sexual life. Or if they want to embarrass them by pretending to be some kind of heroes. And why right now, in the middle of the unfinished revolution? Some friends say it’s political—and stupid—since all they’re doing is serving the Muslim Brotherhood by disfiguring liberalism by linking it with sexual deviancy. Shareef responds with something about freedom and not giving it only to some people. But his friends say that freedom has limits in every society and these are its limits in Egypt at the moment.

Some of his gay acquaintances send alarmed messages. Why’d you do this? Why’d you expose the world’s hatred and open the gates of hell on us? Why are you being so narcissistic? Do you want to be famous? Do you want asylum in a foreign country on the backs of those of us forced to stay in this swamp?

Like that, of the dozens of people they thought were their closest friends, only very few defend their right to choose. And they, too, quickly disappear and cut off contact with them, even on Facebook. Everyone’s finished with them, thinking that all they’re doing is trying to get famous, that they’re not only acting capriciously but also putting themselves and their friends in danger.

That’s when Shareef flies off the handle. All of a sudden, he grabs his telephone and, with two taps on the screen, he changes the audience of the announcement from “close friends” to “public.” Without even asking Bahaa. And things get even crazier from there.

Bahaa’s screams of protest and his uncharacteristic anger last a minute or two as Shareef’s Facebook page sits quiet. Then the messages start coming. Without stop. “Friends” announce their shock at Bahaa and Shareef while others regret trusting them. Some wonder if they’ve secretly been raping children or preying on kids. Supporters of the ruling Islamists condemn them, as expected, by the hundreds, with abuse and threats, condemning them to hell. And then come hundreds of “virtuous” revolutionary youth who denounce them, wondering about the nature of their “plot” against the revolution and whether they’re “pawns.” That’s how their announcement was quickly turned into yet another battleground for the political conflict raging in the country. As for the personal angle of their announcement, it’s pretty much ignored.

Shareef gets a message from Jihan, his former “beard,” and she writes just one word: “despicable.” Then Tamer,  Shareef and Bahaa’s boss, contacts Shareef and gives them the choice between submitting their resignations immediately or getting fired. Tamer says he has twenty-four hours to decide and tells him not to come to work no matter what. He’ll collect their things and send them to them. He’s totally unrelenting.

Bahaa’s furious at Shareef. Making a decision like that on his own is a crime in and of itself. It reflects either a pathological self-centeredness or a hidden contempt for Bahaa, a conviction that he’s nothing more than a piece of flesh. Bahaa tells him that if it wasn’t for the circumstances, he’d leave him immediately. Shareef’s angry too and tells Bahaa he’s only proving he doesn’t understand how deep Shareef’s problems are. But they don’t have time to keep fighting. Things get totally out of control a few hours later when their families get involved.

Shareef’s sister is the first to call. Clearly upset, she tells him that his Facebook page has been hacked and that whoever did it posted some disgraceful things there to harm him. Shareef smiles and tells her the page wasn’t hacked. She’s quiet for a while and then asks in a broken voice: “What do you mean it wasn’t hacked? Did you see what they wrote?” Shareef responds mechanically that she must mean what he posted about his relationship with Bahaa. She’s silent for a long time and then stutters: “Yes . . . but . . . really?” And he replies: “Yes.” Then she asks him: “Have you gone crazy? What’s this? What are you saying? You? Shareef?” He tells her again: “Yes.” She keeps asking questions, disparaging him, incapable of believing it. Maybe he’s made a mistake, maybe there’s some kind of treatment, maybe . . .

He tries to keep calm and respond patiently as she stammers on. She then says something about the family. Hasn’t he thought about his mother, father, relatives, them, and even her? “What’s this selfishness? This is a nightmare. You’ve gone insane. What’s happened to you? May God destroy the revolution. This is what we got from it. I can’t believe it!” She breaks out in tears as she hangs up.

His sister’s reaction was a tame preview for how the rest of the family reacted. His father has the same message for him but he’s cruel, harsh, and violent. That, in addition to the slap across his face. His father tells him in a grave, melodramatic voice that Shareef is no son of his and that he’ll renounce him unless he not only backs off this nonsense and declares his Facebook page was hacked but also deactivates this “cursed” page and finds a treatment for his “abnormality.” As far as his father’s concerned, the atmosphere inundating the country poisoned Shareef and all his son wants is to be different from everyone else. Shareef’s relatives then disappear and not just from his Facebook page. His family completely abandons him.

The most painful response comes from his mother, who doesn’t even acknowledge the situation. It seemed like she’d aged years as she became all gloomy and her face looked dried out. She didn’t call him so he went to see her. She comes out of her room a half hour after he gets there with a glassy look on her face like she doesn’t even see him. She asks him about work and if he’s eating well, about his apartment and if it’s clean, and then nothing. When he tells her he wants to talk about something sensitive, she gets up and says she’s tired, that she doesn’t have the energy for sensitive subjects. She pats him on the shoulder somewhat tenderly and leaves, going back to her room.

The response of Bahaa’s family was much simpler. They call him to the house and when he gets there, he finds them all waiting for him. One of his brothers asks if what his “boyfriend” wrote on Facebook is true. Bahaa nods shyly and that’s when the three brothers beat the crap out of him until their father says it’s enough. They stop, leaving Bahaa crumpled on the ground with bruises on his face, arms, and legs. His father gets up, spits on Bahaa, and leaves. His oldest brother tells him that he’s kicked out of the house and it’s forbidden for him to come back, call, or even return to their neighborhood. If he does, they’ll turn him in to the police on some cooked-up charge and get rid of him and his filth forever. He then tosses a bag of his clothes in his face and tells him to get out. During all this, his mother hid her face in her veil so no one could see her tears.

Of course, there’s a campaign of support for Shareef and Bahaa. People they don’t even know and they’ve never met before take it upon themselves to defend their right to choose. At first, Shareef and Bahaa are dazzled by hashtags like #TheRightToChoose and #InSolidarityWithBahaaAndShareef. Famous bloggers, revolutionary leaders, writers, and media types join the campaign and many ask to interview them in an act of solidarity. At first, the two agree. Some of these famous people come and take photos with them and put them up on Instagram and other social media. Then they disappear, except for some comments from time to time reaffirming their solidarity.

Shareef and Bahaa expected most of this, if not the campaign of solidarity by opportunists. But expectation is one thing and experience is something else. It’s easy to say “My family will cut me off” or “they’ll be disgraced and they’ll toss me out like garbage.” But when that really happens to you, you feel this silence, this coldness, this alienation between you and your mother. The sharpness surprised them, as did the sharp pain they felt.

They didn’t expect it. They didn’t know how it would feel. And what’s more, they didn’t get any satisfaction from coming out. Even Shareef—and this whole thing started because being in the closet was his own personal crisis—even he didn’t feel any catharsis. Instead, it was the opposite. His feelings of oppression, isolation, and self-incrimination only increased. These were simmering inside him all the years he lived in the closet and masqueraded around. He was thinking that coming out would put an end to these feelings but it only brought them out in the open. The sense of isolation and oppression closed in on him everywhere he went: on the street, at work, and even on Facebook.

A deep silence settled in on their life. It enveloped them and isolated them from the world, almost like they were in a fish tank. Their professional life is over after they’re fired. Shareef tells Bahaa not to worry since they can create their own business and concentrate on clients outside of Egypt. And Bahaa doesn’t say anything. His anger at Shareef prevents him from talking openly about it. He’s devastated at what’s happening and that prevents him from stirring up anything between them.

At any rate, their social life collapses. No friends, no acquaintances, and no family, of course. No one. Shareef isn’t all of a sudden part of the “gay group”—neither is Bahaa—and now they’re not part of any group. They go to Left Bank in the middle of this storm and when they walk in the door, the place goes silent. Most of the people there know them but they get completely quiet when they see the two come in. And those who don’t know them get quiet since they’re surprised by this sudden wave of silence. Ahmed Eid, our common friend, is nice to them, as always. He takes their orders and brings them a plate of fruit gratuit. But the tension in the place overwhelms everything and after five minutes, Bahaa says he can’t stand it anymore so Shareef pays the bill and they get up to go, ignoring Ahmed’s polite protests.

The silence weighs on them. But then the real catastrophe happens. And it takes only a few minutes. They’re in the apartment one evening and, at exactly ten o’clock, there’s a bang on the door. Bahaa gets up to see who it is and when he opens the door, two men grab him while a bunch of people, including some neighbors, rush into the apartment. The two are arrested and taken to the police station to stand before the public prosecutor the next morning. And the police do what you’d expect. The two weren’t raped, thank God, but they were beaten and humiliated much worse than ever before or since. Pictures of them on their way to the station spread online. And there are other pictures of them almost naked, probably right after they were beaten and their clothes stripped off at the station. They’re transferred to the prosecutor in the morning where they face a number of charges, including depravity, abomination, and immorality.

The public prosecutor is sympathetic to them. He says it’s the neighbors—the owner of the apartment in particular—who got the police involved. The police weren’t thrilled about arresting them but the owner and the neighbors said they’ll break down the door and deal with Shareef and Bahaa themselves if the police don’t do something. So the police and prosecutor figure they’ll keep the peace by arresting Bahaa and Shareef. That’s when the prosecutor issues the investigation and arrest warrant.

The case was all over the papers, and with pictures. Shareef and Bahaa were shattered by it all—the arrest, the detention, the prosecutor’s “investigation,” the medical examiner, and all the stories and coverage. And worst of all for them was having it come from their neighbors, who they’d always gotten along with.

Lucky for them some NGOs get hold of the story on the night of their arrest and send lawyers to help them before the prosecutor. The prosecutor decides to release them on bail until the trial and tells their lawyer to stay in touch with him while they’re out. The lawyer gives them keys to his own apartment and then goes to their place to get their clothes and all the personal things that the police didn’t seize or destroy, most importantly their passports. The next morning, Shareef and Bahaa buy tickets to New York on different airlines and the next day they leave Egypt for good.


From
 كل هذا الهراء [Kul Haza Alhura’a]. Published 2017 by Al-Karma Publishers. © 2017 Ezzedine Choukri Fishere. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2017 by Jonathan Smolin. All rights reserved.

كل هذا الهراء

فوجئ شريف نفسه بمدى تورطه في حب بهاء، بانغماسه الكامل في هذا الحب، وبانطلاقه الحر غير المشروط في تبعاته. صار هذا الحب فرصة أخرى، ربما وحيدة، لاستعادة الأمان العاطفي والشعور بالقوة. لكن تحقيق ذلك
.في نظر شريف – تطلب أمرًا آخر، وهو نهاية عصر الإنكار. وهذا هو مصدر تململ شريف الدائم إزاء موقف بهاء المؤيد للإنكار –
.مع الوقت، تحول التململ إلى رفض، ثم إلى تمرد، ثم إلى أزمة
انفجرت الأزمة في 22 مارس، اليوم التالي لعيد الأم، والذي احتفلت فيه العائلة ببلوغ الأم سن الستين، وأغدقت فيه الأم حنانها ومحبتها على ابنتها وابنها، وأخبرته أن لديها عروسة له، يمكن أن يخطبها ثم يتزوجان عند تخرجه. قال شريف لبهاء إنه لا يستطيع مواصلة الحفلة التنكرية التي يعيشها، ويريد إعلان علاقتهما. نظر إليه بهاء مطولًا – كان يعرف أنه جاد فيما يقوله، ولم تكن تلك أول مرَّة يقول فيها هذا الكلام، لكنه شعر من نبرة صوته ومن نظرته بشيء مختلف هذه المرَّة. اعترض، وحاول إفهامه أن هذا انتحار، وأن الأمر لا يتعلق به هو وحده بل ببهاء أيضًا، وبعائلتين، وأصدقاء، ومجتمع كامل بثقافة وتاريخ القمامة المتراكمة عبر العصور. لكن شريف صمم. بهاء واصل الاعتراض: قال لشريف إنه ينظر إلى الموضوع من داخل ذاته هو، ولا يراه من منظور من يحب – بهاء. أمسك به من كتفيه وقال ضاحكًا إن عليه التوقف عن لعب دور الذكر، وأن يحاول رؤية الأمور من وجهة نظر غيره. لكن شريف لم يكن يسمع. دافع عن نفسه وعن وجهة نظره دفاعًا مستميتًا لا يترك مجالًا كبيرًا للتفاهم. فهم بهاء اختياراته: إما الاستسلام لرغبة شريف ودخول هذه المغامرة غير المأمونة، وإما
.الانسحاب بهدوء من الآن – سيكون ذلك مؤلمًا لكنه سيعيش، وسيتفهم شريف عدم قدرته على مواكبة عزيمته
كان هناك خيار ثالث تحدثا فيه أكثر من مرَّة، وهو مغادرة مصر والاستقرار في مكان آخر، غالبًا نيويورك. استغرب بهاء الفكرة حين طرحها شريف أول مرَّة. كيف نسافر؟ ليس الأمر بهذه السهولة. كيف سنحصل على تأشيرة أصلًا؟ وعمل؟ والمال اللازم لهذا؟ ثم ماذا سنفعل في نيويورك ونحن لا نعرف فيها أحدًا؟ رد شريف وقتها ردودًا عائمة: لديه بعض الأصدقاء الذين سيساعدونهما، لديه بعض المال، حياة جديدة حرة، وغير هذا. من
.وقت إلى آخر يعود إلى هذه السيرة ثم يصمت أمام تردد بهاء
هذه المرَّة سأله بهاء إن لم يكن من الأفضل لهما السفر بدلًا من هذه المقامرة وما قد يتبعها من بهدلة ستضطرهما في النهاية إلى السفر. رفض شريف: «قد يكون السفر طريقًا أسهل، أو أسلم، لكنه يعني التخلي تمامًا عن فرصة الحياة في مصر». صمت بهاء وفكر قليلًا ثم قال إن العكس هو الصحيح، فلو أعلنا علاقتهما الآن، وأدى رد الفعل إلى سفرهما، فمعنى هذا القضاء على أي فرصة لهما للحياة في مصر في المستقبل. اختلفا، ظلا يتناقشان
.ثمانية أيام، وجهًا لوجه، وفي رسائل على الواتساب
بعد عدة أيام أقر شريف أنه يريد معركة بغض النظر عن أي شيء كي يستعيد نفسه التي يشعر بفقدانها. قال بهاء إنه يفهمه لكنه لا يشاركه هذه المشاعر. لماذا كان الإنكار أسهل لبهاء وأقل وطأة؟ قال: «ربما هي طبيعتي، ربما أكون أكثر عملية منك، ولهذا أفصل بين مقتضيات الظروف وبين شخصي». لا يشعر بهاء أن حياته الجنسية تهم الآخرين، لا سلبًا ولا إيجابًا، ومن ثَمَّ لا يعنيه رأيهم. حين يذكر له أحد الزواج يرد بسخرية، وتنتهي
.المسألة هنا. لم يحاول في يوم من الأيام أن يخبر أحدًا من عائلته أو حتى أصدقائه بميوله، لم يضع أحدًا في هذا الاختبار، ولا يجد صعوبة في مواصلة ذلك
لكنه لا يريد ترك شريف. ربما لأنها علاقة الحب الوحيدة في حياته، ربما لأنها جلبت له استقرارًا كان يفتقده من دون أن يعلم، ربما لأن شريف، على الرغم من تمحوره حول ذاته، شريك مريح، وهذه الراحة خلقت لبهاء واحة من الاحتواء وسط حياة عسيرة. في نهاية اليوم الثامن أخبره بهاء أنه غير مقتنع، ولكنه لن يتخلى عنه. سيمضي معه في هذه المقامرة، بشرط أن يبدآ فورًا في الإعداد للهجرة حتى يكون لديهما مخرج للطوارئ في حالة
.انفجار الموقف في وجهيهما. وقد كان
تداعت فصول الكارثة بسرعة، ولا أظنهما قدرا حجم التداعيات لما فعلاه ساعتها. قررا أن يخبرا دائرتهما المقربة في البداية. كتب شريف على صفحته في فيسبوك سطرين، قصر إمكانية رؤيتهما على أصدقائهما المقربين فقط، يعلن فيهما أن كل الحب مباح، وأنه وبهاء عاشقان، وأن حرية الاختيار حق لكل فرد، حتى لو اختلفت الغالبية مع هذا الاختيار. وجلس هو وبهاء ينتظران رد الفعل. لم يعلق أحد لعدة دقائق، ثم توالت رسائل خاصة في
.بريدهما، تستفهم. فأعادا شرح ما قاله شريف، وهنا بدأ الانهيار
سأل أحدهم لِمَ يعتقدان أن حياتهما الجنسية تهم أحدًا، أم أنهما يريدان اصطناع بطولة بإحراجهم؟ ولِمَ في هذا التوقيت بالذات؟ قال بعض الأصدقاء إن هذا إعلان سياسي، وغبي، فهما بهذا يخدمان الإخوان عن طريق تشويه الفكرة الليبرالية في ذهن غالبية الشعب بربطها بالشذوذ الجنسي. رد شريف بشيء ما عن الحرية وعدم تجزئتها، فقال أصدقاؤه إن للحرية حدودًا في كل مجتمع وهذه حدودها في مصر في الوقت الحالي. أرسل بعض معارفهم المثليين رسائل مذعورة: لِمَ هذا؟ لِمَ يفضحان الدنيا ويفتحان أبواب الجحيم على الجميع؟ أليست هذه أنانية؟ هل يريدان الشهرة؟ هل يريدان اللجوء لبلد أجنبي، وعلى حساب المضطرين للبقاء في هذا المستنقع؟
وهكذا، من وسط عشرات ممن ظنا أنهم أصدقاء مقربون لهما، لم يدافع عن حقهما في الاختيار سوى عدد صغير جدًّا. ثم تواروا تمامًا وقطعوا علاقتهم بهما، حتى على فيسبوك. في حين انقض الباقون عليهما باعتبارهما
.ساعين للشهرة والبطولة وتافهين بل ومصدرًا للخطر
.ابتأس بهاء في حين استشاط شريف غضبًا وبشكل تلقائي، ومن دون تشاور مع بهاء، أمسك بتلفونه وبضغطتين على الشاشة غيَّر جمهور الإعلان من «أصدقاء مقربين» إلى «العامة». وهنا بدأ الانهيار الكبير فعلًا
استغرق صراخ بهاء المعترض، وغضبه النادر، حوالي دقيقة أو اثنتين، خلالهما ظلت صفحة شريف بلا تعليقات جديدة. ثم توالت التعليقات بلا توقف. «أصدقاء» يعلنون صدمتهم في بهاء وشريف، وآخرون يبدون الندم على الثقة التي أولوها لهما. بعضهم تساءل عما إذا كانا يغتصبان الأطفال أيضًا، أو عما إذا كانا قد تحرشا بهم هم من دون أن يلحظوا. أنصار التيار الإسلامي الحاكم ومحبوه ومحترموه انقضوا عليهما كما هي العادة، بالمئات، بالسباب والوعيد والتبشير بسوء المنقلب والمصير، وتبعهم مئات من الشباب الثوري الطاهر الذي أدانهما وأعلن التبرؤ منهما، متسائلًا عن هوية من دسهما على التيار الثوري وما إذا كانا «أجهزة». وهكذا تحول إعلانهما
.سريعًا إلى ساحة إضافية للصراع السياسي المعتمل في البلد. أما الجانب الشخصي فقد تم التعامل معه بهدوء ومن دون ضجة
تلقى شريف رسالة من جيهان، من كلمة واحدة: «حقير». ثم اتصل تامر- ابن عمتي – بشريف وخيره بين إرسال استقالته هو وبهاء فورًا وبين الرفد. ثم قال له إن أمامه 24 ساعة ليقرر، وطلب منه عدم المجيء إلى الشركة في أي حال لأنه جمع أوراقهما ومتعلقاتهما وسيرسلها إليهما. اتصل بي شريف على الفور وقال إنه كسب الرهان. فهمت، ولم أصدق. تامر! كيف؟ من أين أتاه هذا الاستبداد؟ حاولت أنا مناقشته لكن من دون جدوى. كان مغلقًا
.تمامًا، تمامًا
بهاء غضب بشدة على شريف، فالاستئثار بمثل هذا القرار المصيري جريمة في حد ذاته، ويعكس إما تمحورًا جنونيًّا حول النفس وإما احتقارًا ضمنيًّا لبهاء واعتقادًا بأنه كتلة يحملها شريف لا قيمة حقيقية لرأيها. غضب بهاء غضبًا حقيقيًّا وقال إنه لولا هذه الظروف لترك شريف على الفور. شريف أيضًا غضب وقال إن موقف بهاء هذا يشي بعدم فهمه لأعمق مشكلات شريف في الحياة. لكن الوقت لم يسعفهما لمواصلة الشجار، ولن يسعفهما قبل
.وصولهما نيويورك. بدأ الانهيار الأكبر بعد ذلك بعدة ساعات: العائلتان.
أخت شريف أول من اتصل. بادية الاضطراب، قالت له إن صفحته على الفيسبوك تمت سرقتها، ومن سرقها كتب عليها كلامًا مشينًا يهدف للإساءة له. ابتسم شريف وقال لها إن الصفحة لم تُسرق. صمتت. وظل الصمت لحظات طويلة، ثم سألته بصوت متكسر: «ماذا يعني أن الصفحة لم تُسرق؟ هل رأيت المكتوب عليها؟». أجاب شريف بآلية أنها تقصد ولا شك ما كتبه عن علاقة الحب التي تربطه ببهاء. صمتت، طويلًا. ثم قالت: «نعم»، وعادت إلى الصمت. ثم قالت: «ولكن»، وعادت إلى الصمت. ثم سألته: «فعلًا؟»، فأجاب: «نعم». فسألته: «هل جُننت؟ ما هذا؟ ماذا تقول؟ أنت؟ أنت يا شريف؟». أجاب: «نعم»، فعاودت الاستفهام، والاستنكار، لم تكن تستطيع التصديق، لعله مخطئ، لعل هناك علاجًا، لعل… وهو يحاول الحفاظ على هدوئه والرد بوضوح ورِقة في الوقت نفسه، وهي تتخبط، ثم قالت شيئًا عن العائلة: ألم يفكر في أمه، في أبيه، في أقاربهم، في منظرهم، فيها
.هي؟ «ما هذه الأنانية؟ هذا كابوس، أنت جُننت، جُننت، ماذا حدث لك؟ الله يخرب بيت الثورة وأيامها، هذا ما أخذناه منها، غير معقول!». وانهارت في البكاء وهي تغلق الخط
رد فعل أخته نموذج حنون لردود الفعل التي تلقاها من عائلته. رد فعل أبيه حمل المضمون نفسه، لكن بقسوة وشدة وعنف، وصفعة على وجهه بدت خارجة عن السياق وغير ضرورية، كأن الأب شعر بواجب صفع ابنه في هذا الظرف الحاد، ثم أضاف في نبرة عماد حمدي في فيلم «الخطايا» أنه لا ابنه ولا يعرفه «ما لم يتراجع عن هذا الهراء ويعلن سرقة صفحته على «الفيسزفت»، بل ويغلق هذه الصفحة اللعينة برمتها، ويبحث عن علاج لهذا الشذوذ أو حتى يكف عنه لأنه لا يعتقد أنه يحتاج علاجًا أو أنه شاذ بالفعل، لكنه تأثر بالجو الموبوء الذي طفح في البلد ويريد أن يكون مختلفًا عن الآخرين». أقارب شريف اختفوا، لا أحد اتصل به ولا قال له شيئًا بأي طريقة،
.لكنهم اختفوا جميعًا من صفحته على الفيسبوك
أهم رد فعل جاء من أمه، التي صمتت تمامًا. بدا وكأنها كبرت في السن، ولازمها تجهم وتيبس لملامح وجهها لم يفارقه بعد ذلك. لم تتصل به، هو الذي ذهب ليراها، وخرجت من غرفتها بعد حوالي نصف ساعة من وصوله، بلا تعبير على وجهها وبنظرة زجاجية لا تراه. سألته عن العمل وعما إذا كان يأكل جيدًا، وعن شقته وتنظيفها، ثم لا شيء. حين قال لها إنه يريد محادثتها في موضوع حساس قامت من مقعدها وقالت إنها متعبة، ولا طاقة لها
.بالموضوعات الحساسة، وربتت على كتفه في شبه حنان ومضت عائدة إلى غرفتها
رد فعل أهل بهاء كان أبسط بكثير: استدعوه إلى المنزل، وحين ذهب وجدهم جميعًا في انتظاره. سأله أحد إخوته إن كان ما نشره «صاحبه» على الفيسبوك صحيحًا، فأومأ بهاء في خجل، وهنا اندفع إخوته الثلاثة نحوه وأوسعوه ضربًا حتى أمرهم الأب بالكف فتوقفوا، تاركين بهاء مكومًا على الأرض وبه كدمات على وجهه وذراعيه وساقه اليمنى. قام الأب فبصق على بهاء ومضى، ثم أخبره الأخ الأكبر بأنه مطرود من البيت ومحرم عليه العودة أو الاتصال أو حتى دخول شبرا الخيمة برمتها، وإلا سلموه بأنفسهم للشرطة بأي تهمة وتخلصوا منه ومن نجاسته إلى الأبد. ثم ألقى في وجهه بكيس يحتوي على ملابسه، طالبًا منه الرحيل فورًا. وطيلة هذا الوقت،
.كانت الأم تخفي وجهها في طرحتها، وربما كانت تبكي
وطبعًا كانت هناك حملة التأييد لشريف وبهاء. أناس لا يعرفانهم ولم يلتقيا بهم من قبل، أخذوا على عاتقهم الدفاع عن حق شريف وبهاء في الاختيار. في البداية انبهر شريف وبهاء: #حق_الاختيار، و#متضامن_مع_بهاء_وشريف وغير ذلك. مدونون مشاهير وقيادات شبابية ثورية وكتاب وإعلاميون انضموا إلى الحملة، وطلب كثيرون مقابلتهما للتضامن معهما. في البداية وافقا، وجاء بعض هؤلاء المشاهير والتقطوا  
 .صورًا معهما وضعوها فورًا على انستجرام وبقية الشبكات الاجتماعية، ثم اختفوا، إلا من تعليقات من حين إلى آخر تؤكد المعنى نفسه
شريف وبهاء توقعا معظم ردود الفعل هذه – وإن لم يتوقعا حملة المتضامنين الانتهازيين. لكن التوقع شيء والتجربة نفسها شيء آخر تمامًا. سهل أن تقول: «سيقاطعني أهلي» أو «سيشعرون بالعار ويتبرأون مني»، لكن أن
.يحدث لك ذلك فعلًا! أن تشعر بهذا الصمت، بهذه البرودة، بهذه الجفوة بينك وبين أمك! حدة الشعور فاجأتهما، كما فاجأتهما شدة الألم الذي شعرا به
لم يتوقعا هذا. لم يتوقعا أن يؤثر رد الفعل فيهما إلى هذه الدرجة. والأكثر من ذلك، لم يشعرا بأي راحة نتيجة إعلانهما لميلهما. حتى شريف الذي كان الإنكار أزمته، لم يشعر براحة، بل على العكس، زاد شعوره بالضيق وبالحصار والعزلة والتجريم. هذه هي المشاعر التي كانت تعتمل داخله في أثناء سنوات الإنكار والتنكر، وكان يظن أن الإعلان سيقضي عليها، لكن في الحقيقة لم يؤدِّ الإعلان إلا إلى إخراجها من داخله ونثرها حوله، بحيث
.أصبح يشعر بها تحيط به من كل جانب: في الشارع، في العمل، وحتى على صفحات الفيسبوك
حل صمت عميق على حياتهما، ولفهما، وعزلهما عن العالم كأنهما يتحركان في حوض سمك. توقفت حياتهما المهنية بعد طردهما من الشركة. قال شريف لبهاء ألا يغتم، فيمكنهما إنشاء شركة خاصة بهما، ويمكنهما تركيز
.عملهما على العملاء من خارج مصر. صمت بهاء ولم يرد. فغضبه على شريف يمنعه عن الحديث بصدق في هذا الأمر، لكن صدمته مما يحدث لكليهما أكبر، وتمنعه عن إثارة المشكلة النائمة بينهما
وفي كل الأحوال انهارت حياتهما الاجتماعية: لا أصدقاء، لا معارف، لا عائلة طبعًا، لا أحد. لم يكن شريف في يوم من الأيام جزءًا من «الجماعة المثلية»، ولا حتى بهاء، والآن لم يعودا جزءًا من أي جماعة أخرى. ذهبا إلى «لفت بانك» في وسط عاصفة الصمت هذه، وحين دخلا من الباب صمت المكان فعلًا. معظم الموجودين يعرفونهما، وصمتوا تمامًا حين رأوهما يدخلان، وصمت من لا يعرفهما دهشة من موجة الصمت المفاجئ هذه. أحمد عيد، صديقنا المشترك، كان لطيفًا معهما كعادته، أخذ طلباتهما وأحضرها ومعها طبق فاكهة هدية منه. لكن التوتر في المكان طغى على كل شيء آخر، وبعد خمس دقائق قال بهاء إنه لا يستطيع البقاء أكثر، فدفع شريف
.الحساب وقاما راحلَين، تاركَين اعتراضات أحمد عيد المهذبة من دون رد
.ثقل الصمت عليهما، وعندما انفجرت الكارثة الأكبر افتقدا هذا الصمت كما لم يفتقدا شيئًا في حياتهما
حلت الكارثة النهائية في دقائق معدودة. كانا جالسين في شقتهما ذات مساء بعد عودتهما من العمل، وفي تمام العاشرة دق الباب بعنف، فقام بهاء ليرى مَن هذا الذي سيحطم الباب، وعندما فتح دفعه رجلان ثم اقتحم عديدون الشقة – منهم بعض الجيران. قُبض عليهما واقتيدا إلى القسم ليُعرضا على النيابة في الصباح التالي. وطبعًا حدث لهما ما يُتوقع حدوثه في قسم الشرطة. لم يغتصبهما أحد، لحسن الحظ، لكنهما ضُربا وأهينا كما لم يُهانا من قبل أو من بعد. وانتشرت صورهما على الإنترنت وهما في طريقهما للقسم، ثم صور أخرى لهما شبه عاريين، غالبًا بعد ضربهما وخلع ملابسهما في القسم. ثم تم ترحيلهما للنيابة في الصباح حيث وجِّهت لهم تهم متعددة، منها
.ممارسة الرذيلة والشذوذ والفجور والحض عليها
وكيل النيابة كان متعاطفًا معهما. قال إن الذي بدأ هذه القصة هم الجيران، وفي مقدمتهم صاحب البيت. الشرطة لم تكن متحمسة، لكن صاحب البيت وبقية الجيران هددوا باقتحام الشقة بأنفسهم والتعامل مع شريف وبهاء
.بطريقتهم. الضابط أبلغ وكيل النيابة، ورأى الاثنان أن القبض على بهاء وشريف أخف ضررًا من عواقب اقتحام شقتهما بمعرفة الجيران. ومن ثَمَّ صدر أمر التفتيش والقبض
امتلأت الصحف بأخبار القضية، وصورهما، وكانا محطمَين من صدمة القبض المفاجئ عليهما، ومما لحق بهما في الحجز، ومن «تحقيق» النيابة، والطبيب الشرعي الذي كشف عليهما، ومن القصص والصور المنتشرة في
.وسائل الإعلام كلها، ومن جيرانهما الذين كانت علاقتهما بهم ممتازة حتى أسبوع مضى، ومن حياتهما برمتها
من حسن حظهما أن بعض المنظمات الحقوقية التقطت قصتهما في ليلة القبض عليهما، وأرسلت محامين لمساعدتهما أمام النيابة. قرر وكيل النيابة الإفراج عنهما بكفالة حتى المحاكمة، وأوعز لمحاميهما أن يتصرف بمعرفته خلال هذه الفترة. أعطاهما المحامي مفاتيح شقته ليمكثا بها، وذهب إلى شقتهما ليجمع ملابسهما ومتعلقاتهما الشخصية التي لم تحرزها الشرطة أو تدمرها، وأهمها جوازا سفرهما. في اليوم التالي اشتريا تذكرتي سفر إلى
.نيويورك على خطي طيران مختلفين، وفي اليوم الذي يليه غادرا مصر إلى نيويورك، بلا رجعة
!من حسن حظهما أن تمكنا من السفر – 
بهاء لم يكن يريد السفر، حتى آخر لحظة. وأظن أنه تعيس هناك، على الرغم من محاولات شريفالإيحاء بأن سعادته مشتركة. لكن المحامي أخبرهما أنهما إن أرادا الفرار فهذا هو الوقت، قبل أن تكبر القضية ويضطر – 
.وكيل النيابة المتفهم حتى الآن لإصدار أمر بمنعهما من السفر أو حبسهما احتياطيًّا
!برافو على المحامي، وعلى وكيل النيابة – 
فهمتِ؟ عرفتِ ألا أمل؟ عرفتِ أن المشكلة ليست فقط في استبداد الدولة ولكن في تخلف المجتمع نفسه وقسوته؟ – 
أنا مرهقة. ما هذا الظلام؟ كم الساعة؟ – 
   السادسة: متى تذهبين إلى المطار؟ – 
 

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