When I signed the “Tamarod” petition six weeks ago, I did not foresee what will happen on June 30th. I expected protests, I expected marches but I did not expect another revolution.
This time, even though my hopes were crushed from the rights that were once promised to come but never did, the electricity cuts, the fuel shortage and all the other trials by the holly government to keep people busy and depressed, I decided to go down.
I knew it won’t be like last time, I had a feeling people won’t be optimistic about this as much as I was.
I was right about only one thing; this was not like last time.
I saw something that I have never seen before in Tahrir square nor in any other protest. I saw the “hope” I thought was lost and gone. The hope in people’s eyes, it gave them faith in this country and its future and gave them strength to stand tall.
Itehadeya is the closest to where I live, walking the streets from home I was surrounded by a spirit of devotion and determination. People wearing the Egyptian flag colors and cars with the flags hanging out of the windows were all on their way to the same spot.
I was offered corn, water, juices and sodas by different street vendors. I was offered two car rides by two different families. Everyone wanted to help literally everyone.
Arriving to Itehadeya, I felt the caution, all the guys from different ages and social classes gave when I was passing. They all stepped back, opening the way for me, allowing me to feel comfortable and making it easier for me to find my friends.
Most of the women protesting were in a secured area, different volunteers surrounded this area for protection against any kind of harassment that any girl or woman could be subjected to in the middle of the crowd.
The few pictures I took the past couple of days sadly do not describe half of what I experienced. People chanted, people sang and people laughed. Their voices gave me shivers and their hopeful eyes brought me joy.
Where did this positive energy of hope come from?
I guess this question will never have an answer. It’s more of what makes Egyptians themselves. It’s our nature to be hopeful, again and again.
Now again, I ask you how can you imagine leaving Egypt?
