A Tribute To Our Three Fallen Heroes | في رثاء الشهداء الثلاثة

For the past four years of our lives, we have seen death on daily basis, whether it was someone close to us or just a face on a TV screen. This time, however, it

By : Rana Mahdy

By : Rahma Ali

For the past four years of our lives, we have seen death on daily basis, whether it was someone close to us or just a face on a TV screen. This time, however, it hit us close to home. It was someone who walked through the very same gates we walk through everyday, someone who’s shared a lecture hall or a classroom, someone who was a friend, someone who just one week ago was as alive as any of us. The thing is it wasn’t the first time but the third; so it hit us hard.
We, members of Insider, decided to pay tribute to all those we’ve lost over the past couple of years. And because writing is what we do best, we hope these next lines by our writers amount to something worthy of all the great people we’ve lost.

Dina Assran wrote:
Karim khuzam,Amr Azzam , and Muhammad Salah, I didn’t know them personally, but somehow, I knew each and every one of them . Karim could have been my brother, Amr could have been my cousin, Muhammad could have been my friend. They could have been anyone. But they aren’t. They aren’t like you and I. You see, they chose to stand up for what they believed in, to live meaningfully and to express their opinion, and for that, they are no longer with us. Their lives have been lost to cruelty and injustice. Lost to a corrupt system, where integrity is just as foreign to it as freedom is to us. They tried to make a difference; they tried to change the country. They went to matches, they stood in peaceful protests .. they hoped Egypt would give democracy a chance. Karim, Amr, and Muhammad will forever be in our hearts and minds.

Asmaa El-Sayed, however, turned to poetry:
“They pray that I rest in peace
But I pray for them to find it
You pay your life as a toll
Hoping it will be the last drop of blood
that gets spilled in the name of freedom

I’m wrapped in a piece of simple white
While they’re wrapped in wealth and power
Surrounded by their children and phony followers
Enclosed in walls covered in black and red
Listening to symphonies of betrayal and savagery
They sell death in the morning
But in the night death haunts them

If you’re scared to fight for me
Then start fighting for yourself Fight, so that when you’re wrapped in white you’ll find some peace of mind.”

Salma Al-Ansary believes that the deaths no matter how painful will never be in vain:
“Tear-leaden eyes that are yet to dry. Screams yet to be stilled. And lives…lives yet to be spared. The ground, the very ground which had been their playground not long ago, turns into a grey graveyard, rusty-scented with their saint blood. Wounds deepened…Grief prevails…Mourning is inevitable, for what’s done cannot be undone; a life once taken can never be revived. It happened not only once, but twice, thrice…we’ve almost lost count. Hundreds, thousands, of families shattered; children orphaned and mothers widowed. Despite how melancholic must seem the scene, never shall their dignified sacrifice be in vain. They’ve ignited a flame, a flame that was once a mere spark, within each and every one, no matter how old or young, that is impossible to contain. They’re alive within every soul, for a life can be taken, but an idea cannot be eradicated once touched by sunshine.”

Noha Al-Baz expressed:
“The pain is indescribable. The Condolences aren’t enough. The GUC joins its siblings all over Egypt, all have lost, all shall moan, all shall remember.”

Fatema Gouda wrote to tell the story of how she came to know one of our fallen heroes, Muhammad Salah:
“Joining a memorial stand in his honor, and in honor of all people who died was devastating. Tears rolling down people’s cheeks while listening to the story by an eyewitness, everyone’s hearts aching to the extent that I could hear them break and shatter into infinite pieces . A flashback to one of the few interactions between me and Muhammad surfaced from the back of my head. First year, Christmas party, no bus to drop us home, and the only bus available dropped us in Haram street. Muhammad offered to get us home and made sure we arrived safely, even though he barely knew us. How can I forget such a kind act? The memory, the prayer, the weeping made it more than real, and there was no way to escape it. A mixture of sadness, pain and fear overwhelmed me and got me thinking that one of my friends might be next, or even myself.”

Mark Fahmy vows to keep the memory of our fallen martyrs alive:
“As more and more beloved souls leave our world, we can’t help but hold on to them and vow to never let them be forgotten. We took it upon ourselves to hang their smiling portraits on the frigid walls surrounding us and to engrave their names on our rather forgetful minds. We shall write their stories on bitter ground, so that their souls can linger on. Gone but not forgotten, gone but not forgotten. May every single person realize the preciousness of the human soul. May blood spill no more on our land. A moment of absolute silence; a lifetime of sadness. I pray for no more loss. I wish for no more grievances. I beg for no more black ribbons. Rest in peace.”

Poet Loaa Muhammad wrote:
“A candle blown sought to atone
The non-amendment wind has blown
It’s said it’s light has shadowed theirs
It’s said it’s heat has molten rage
The candle lit as part of dawn
Was anguished, blown by them, forlorn
Just for it didn’t light their dawn
It lit the dawn all of it’s own
The destiny it has preset
Was out of plan of those who thought they built
Candles of youth are blown each round
Not a single soul left not astound
Injured hearts of mothers lorn
Fury of those whom anguish soared
Did your spark resemble mine?
It’s out of question for ones, sly
My sentiments beyond esteemed
My thoughts of what I want to be
The theming of how I can mend
Have all been replenished by end Of patronized hopes.”

Yomna Shoeib chose to pay tribute in our mother tongue and wrote:
عزيزي الشهيد … لا اريد ان أرتعد و ألعن فى هذا و ذاك… لا اريد ان اعد بقصاص اعلم جيدا اننى لا اقدر عليه .. لا اريد ان الوم هذا و ذاك .. اعلم جيدا انك لا تأبه بقصاص من البشر عندما يستطيع الله ان يقتص لنا اجمعين .. فالقصاص ليس لكى تنام هنيئا و لكنه لنا نحن البشر لكي نشفي غليلنا و نستريح… لذلك فأنت لا تأبه. عزيزى الشهيد .. شكرا لك .. شكرا لشجاعتك.. قد يظن البعض أننى احسدك و لكن لا .. فالشخص ينال الشهادة و انت نلتها عن جدارة”

Moreover,Shahd Rashed prompts to all of us something to think about:
عزائي الوحيد لموت الشهداء من 2011 لحد أنهرده؛ و كلامي عن كل الشهداء من شرطه و جيش و شعب؛ و بردو كلامي لضحايا الثورات و حريه الرأي و التطرف و الأرهاب و الكوره!!. عزائي هو كلام ربنا أنهم أحياء عند ربهم يرزقون؛ شايفينا و عارفين بنعمل ايه. متهيألي أهم ما عندهم أنهم يشوفوا أحلامهم و أمالهم بتتحقق مش بس بالكلام و الهتاف و الوقوف و الحداد؛ بس بأننا نأخذ خطوات حقيقيه بينا و بين نفسنا على الأقل و نغير الواقع المرير.”

Finally, Mohammed Elzoghby conveys a message on the behalf of every martyr:
اذكروني في صلواتكم ودعواتكم، اذكروني كلما رأيتم الظلم المسكوت عنه، اذكروني في دماء لن تتوقف، في حوادث القطارات، ومساكن بلا أسقف أسموها بيوتًا، اذكروني في ورودكم الشائكة ،وفي أجساد ستموت واقفة بلا أدنى إنحناء اذكروني في دعواتكم اليائسة وعجزكم الطفولي، في جلساتكم علي المقهى، ولحظات الوداع الأخير..عندما تدركون أن الفراق هو المستقبل وعندما يصير اللقاء فعل ماضٍ ، اذكروني في أعيادكم القومية، عندما تهللون للطاغية وجسدي لم يدفن بعد، اذكروني، سأكون هناك في سجونكم، في قبوركم في ذاكرتكم قصيرة المدى حتى إن جاء يوم استيقظتم فيه .. ولم تذكروني