Opinion

The Test

I am thankful to what happened to me over the past few days. I came out of it stronger and more ardent in my beliefs as to what is best for my country. 
 
My heart was still beating despite two surgeries, the most recent of which was done in Aswan by Magdi Yacoub, the great surgeon and philanthropist.
 
Although I lost 2 kgs in four days, I convinced myself that my body did not really need them in the first place, and that this was probably healthier for me.
 
This does not mean I was having a good time, for it is needless to explain what losing freedom is like, even for just a few days.
 
What was the good that came out of this evil test? What was the grace that loomed in the darkness of resentment?
 
The minute I was handcuffed I felt that I lost my dignity. I felt that what all the enemies that I have faced in my life did to me was nothing compared to these handcuffs that were surrounding my wrists.
 
I was about to collapse, but then I heard a voice coming from the depths of my soul telling me: Since when is human dignity a matter of handcuffs shackled or removed? You are closer to God in your plight and your handcuffs than in your lavishness. Nobody can touch your dignity. They may only constrain the movement of your hands.You were never before bestowed such great sympathy and compassion from your family and friends.
 
I felt good. 
 
I was imprisoned before when I was a disobedient student of the technical military school. But I do not want to bore the readers with complaining about confinement.
 
I am not and will never be a leader. I am not and will never be a politician. I am but a citizen who has faced failure and success in his career, failures of projects that nobody heard of and successes of others that everybody heard of. I believe that suffering is necessary so as not to trivialize success.
 
My children had a good life. Perhaps they needed to experience the suffering. The truce of time was long. Perhaps it is time for something to happen that jars them into adulthood. Perhaps their innocent eyes need to shed some tears. Perhaps their tranquil souls need to tolerate pain. 
 
Their father and their older brother were in custody on the same charge in two different places. Perhaps they must pull themselves together for their imprisoned father's sake.
 
My uncle Essam al-Tohamy died in those four days. And the 30-year-old Haytham Diab, who was like a son to me, also died. I had intended to pay them a visit in their homes. Instead, I visited their graves.
 
As to President Sisi, I do appreciate this man. I love him like the millions of Egyptians do, who came out to the streets upon his signal. We all voted for him with love and sincerity. He is bearing the burden and carrying the weight. He honored me because he has confidence in businessmen.
 
Did something happen that spoiled our relationship? Was it something that I said? If so, it was with good intention. I may have a different point of view, but this does not mean I disagree with him. No patriotic Egyptian disagrees with him about his goals. Some may differ about the means, but the overall goal of safeguarding the interests of the country remains intact.
 
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And now I conclude by saying that I will never forget as long as I live the sympathy and compassion I found from my family and friends.
 
 
Edited translation from Al-Masry Al-Youm
 

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