Cairo revealing its ugly side!
Lonesome is burying us alive. I don't really know why is life so hard? I don't know why it is supposed to be shared and why it is so hard when not?
I don't know if it’s this huge city, the country, the era or maybe the whole human race? Cairo is big I know, it has more of both sides the good and the ugly. This hormonal city crushed me today, ever since I came I've been observing and analyzing all the people I've met, the conversations I've had and the places I've been to and I what I concluded left me ashamed. In Cairo I saw a panoramic view of how women feel, my dearest friends, my random strangers along with myself; we are all fading away like wilted roses. Each and every one of us is pouring some rusty water into the other's shell in a desperate attempt to keep everyone alive. But what good does it do if we live a life where we're doomed to fading away?
Being younger is a bittersweet thing that allowed me to notice how those roses turn blue and all wrinkly, how they're left waterless, unloved, un-catered for and undesired. I also witnessed the loss of their ability to love, the loss of their purity and all the good in them out of pain and despair. Those lovely ladies had their petals crushed, their roots amputated and their stems bent. How can a woman be so broken and still expected to be a hardcore champ?
Wandering around the roads in Cairo led me to see the birth of a heart of steel a heart that resembles Men, I saw how each one of us needed to create another masculine version of herself to be able to go through this life, to avoid being transparent, to prove she's worthy of lots of stuff and yet she failed. This manly part of her came along with a paradox of deprivation and sufficiency which took her to a whole other level of disappointment, then left her worn out, slaughtered & sold like fresh meat or more like dead meat.
I always bump into the most amazing & exceptional women, I don't know why they're so many or why I meet them but I just do. I take a look at them and I feel humbled; they're intelligent fighters who are full of love but at the end of the day lonesome takes over & we catch ourselves having this out of sorts look of excess unrequited feelings needing a legit outlet, this look of thirst that leaves us with either a tear, a sight or a reluctant "Thank God" prayer.
I also don't know why God chose to make me realize all that agony women go through at a very young age. I should be kicking life's ass right now living it up and enjoying what everyone calls "The best years of your life", but I just CAN'T!
My people are suffering and by my people I mean women. We're a tribe that has been marginalized for so long, we're deprived of everything any human being should have. I can't just leave yet I am really disappointed and helpless at the same time.
How is it fair that we're denied our right of choice, love, wanting or needing sex and even our rights of making mistakes like everyone else, expected to be saints never sinners and never forgiven? Then we're harshly deprived of having children because in our 20's, 30's and even 40's men were busy choosing hotter women to add to their antique collection according to the sick definition of needing hotness for a healthy relationship and another sick measure of sized hotness. How is it fair for a woman who biologically expires her reproductive ability at a certain age to be thought of as a second hand choice?
How is it fair that every human being breathes, eats, drinks, pisses and poops, sleeps but only men are allowed to feel horny and in need for sex?
How is it fair that a woman who spent most of her life single is deprived of her right to try not being a virgin, to experience the making of love instead of the feeling of it that she missed out on?
How is it fair for an old or divorced woman to be emotionally blackmailed and offered pity sex each and every chance she tries to be close to a man?
How is it fair for a woman to be forced to change the way she looks or how much she weighs in order to avoid the misery of being left single to rust?
I am no feminist and everybody knows that about me but I am very angry and for the very first time I feel that I despise most MEN and also WOMEN who give men such control over their lives jeopardizing the whole tribe's fate, those self-centered weak women leave me sick to my stomach.
I think we’re paying a constant "She" tax for being women, yet it doesn't feel like a tax it feels more like a sanction. We've worked real hard on ourselves to be accepting, wise and smart. We've been through hell hoping for a glimpse of heaven and still we're considered bounce backs, last choices if at all, rejected, neglected and above all humiliated.
Today I had an argument with one of those strong women who is a close friend of mine, I kept pushing her until she said "When you're in my shoes and at my age, only then you can know how it feels to try everything and fail". This sentence made me realize how inconsiderate I am becoming and how like my tribe I am losing good qualities along the way then I figured that after puberty we're all in the same shoes. What aches us is that we're so many in a very tight shoe that some of us decided to leave the shoe and sink in the slime underneath maybe they can make the road less slippery. I was one of those who went for the slime in hope of cleaning up the messed up minds that created the slime but the euphoric illusion of salvation made me forget the pain of being inside the shoe.
So dear tribe, I am sorry that I left you all there alone, I am sorry that my solidarity turns to be tough love rather than cautious tenderness. I am sorry that I am young and making you relive the moments that were part of your misery but believe me it’s really a heaven's ride. And finally I am deeply sorry for the warriors; the ones amongst us who lost their dreams of motherhood, I am sorry for the aching sight of newborn children, I am sorry for the last screams of hormones and for the Men who were stupid enough to leave when we gave them everything unconditionally.
Deep down I understand the pain and the agony behind being a woman, I can't promise myself or anyone and end to it but I can at least guarantee for women like us to feel our scars and stitches without repelling and try to help each other with the daily patchwork of our souls ….
This note is dedicated to all the strong women I know, the women of my tribe:
Amira Amin
Asmaa Freig
Sanaa Aboul Nasr
Safinaz Saber Mansour
Nancy Hany
Moushira Saleh
Kariman El Sokary
Eman Hashim
Reem Shakweer
Hala Mahran
Wegdan Hussein
Shaimaa Gamal
Sarah Hattata
Annan Moh Ibrahim
Dina Abd ElSalam
Flora Mokhles
Dina Hashem