Diary
(3) The meeting of hunger and ashamed.. Ahmed Seif Hashed
My memoirs.. from the details of my life
(3)
The meeting of hunger and ashamed
Ahmed Seif Hashed
We used to live in hunger in our days, harmonize our destiny, and we could snatch life out of the claws of death by starvation. Today, a people die every day, and all filth, mafias and waste have joined forces against it.. Death is absurd and lavish in a world overrun by tyrants, arrogant people, and frivolous people. It has been savage to the fullest extent, and shepherds from Hell refuse to stop it or put its burdens on it, and a brutal siege applies with both hands and presses with all its might on the mouths of those who escaped death or are among us left alive.. a war that has become profitable and drowns its owners in wealth and abundance for those who divert our blood, our hunger, our famines and our tragedies. Asymptomatic to balances..
***
I starved a lot.. I struggled with poverty, need and want.. I suffered from wasting, weakness and dengue that exhausted the body and soul.. I lived for years throughout malnutrition, “anaemia”, problems in the thyroid gland, and pathological swellings in the feet, as well as amoebiasis and giardia, and attacks of fever that She used to bother me from time to time.
When I had a fever, my body used to enjoy being in the sun for a longer period, and I hope that the temperature will intensify. Then, as soon as I emptied it, I discovered that the fever increased and intensified.. It strengthened and bullied my exhausted and emaciated body.. As for what they call it in our village “the sun of the dead.” that bid farewell to us reddened and faded, as it withers toward sunset; She reminded me of my deteriorating health, and of my late sisters, Nour and Samia.
In the preparatory stage of the internal section in “tawar albahah
“The scheduled meals of the oath did not suffice me, or did not satisfy my hunger except at a minimum level, so that I could continue a squalid and exhausted life, most of which we spend in a bitter struggle, and a desperate desire for the continuation of survival with great suffering and hardship.
My mother was consoling me with some money that she collected for me with difficulty and impossible, to relieve me of the suffering of hunger, and make me stay and live for me and for her, and a future that was still mysterious and unknown..
In the high school of the boarding section of the “Proletariat” school, there were many students in the boarding section, and the dinner and lunch queues were long, and sometimes dinner ran out before I reached it, and sometimes I realized a little of it, and it was almost finished..
I was haunted by shame and shyness that prevented me from crowding, and my morals also prevented me from skipping those in the queue before me, no matter how hungry I was or felt that I would not reach my designated meal, while many of those after me in the queue boldly and brazenly skip me until I find myself gradually at the end of the queue without Dinner.. I was arriving near the eligibility window, and I was surprised that dinner had run out, and perhaps with good luck I would get a little bit..
Sometimes, because of my shame, I would sleep without dinner, or my friend Muhammad Abdul-Malik Hussein and I would go to the “demon” trees that fence part of the school’s perimeter, to pick some of the fruits that have not yet ripened, or are still far from ripening.. Hunger sometimes narrowed us, and we were We are forced to go towards it, and we did not allow it, because of our hunger, to reach its fruits ripening.. Our hunger was one of the tide, and earlier in the harvest, while its suffocating hoarseness broke out, and its nails protested in our throats besieged by hunger.. I lost my mother’s help, because of the distance and long absence..
Sometimes I would go with others sneaking under the wing of the night to the far farm to get some sesame handfuls and sometimes meander on the lemon trees, to pick some of them, to eat them with their skins, or to use them in our meals to improve the taste of poorly cooked beans..
***
I was a guest on one of the annual holidays at a relative of ours in Aden.. I think that my arrival to Aden that day was to treat a thyroid problem.. A German doctor at Al-Nasr Hospital diagnosed my condition, and I stayed in the hospital bed for a period that I no longer remember, it was probably about two weeks ..
The hospital food that was brought to me was varied, tasty and healthy. There was no queue, follow-up or shame.. The meals came to the table next to my bed at the specified time and time without delay.. In bed next to me is a mother and her young child. She was beautiful and kind and treated me like a mother and with affection. My vacancy is filled, and the nurses there were very concerned and responsible, and the specialist German doctor is more concerned and aware of his responsibility.. God’s peace be upon the German doctors who were very caring and attended in many details at this hospital affiliated with the Ministry of the Interior.. I left this hospital and recovered. Exactly, and I began to feel like a horse.. I moved to live for some time with our relative Abdel Karim Hazaa in the Al-Qat’ neighborhood in Crater.
Mostly, the main lunch for this family, which I stayed with, consisted of rice, “Zinob” fish, “Al-Sanouna” and “Ushar” .. a very tasty meal by my standards .. From that day to today, I love this meal, and crave it .. The problem that I was I suffer from it is my shyness and shyness that occupies me and possesses me to an unbelievable extent.. I only eat half of what I need and sometimes much less than half..
In Aden it is customary, or at least with the family that I stayed with, that rice and fish are not served at once, so that they do not throw the surplus of the meal in excess of what is needed in the garbage bag.. It is a good habit, but I did not understand it at the time, and I did not realize its reason and the wisdom of it..
All that I used to complete what was in the plate or before the end of what was scooped first, I would leave the table immediately, before an additional amount of rice next to us was scooped up to the plate from which we ate.. I would leave the table as soon as I finished devouring what was scooped the first time. Or even before they finished, while they would return to the rooms many times, up to three and four rooms.. It was my embarrassment and my shame that made me leave and not wait or turn to a second room.
Because of my unnatural shyness and shyness, I would leave the table as soon as the first quantity of rice was consumed.. As for fish, I only ate very little of it, also judged by my extreme shyness and shyness.. I used to consume fish in every bite of no more than the size of a corn grain or half a jar. Dates if I exaggerated in my boldness despite its abundance, as well as some of my bites were not accompanied by fish of this size or that, while my real appetite, if I let it loose and unleashed, would not suffice for the meal of five of them of rice, fish and the “public collector”. I love this meal to this day and crave it even more eagerly..
Abdul Karim Hazaa, the head of the family, noticed the tyranny of modesty and shyness in my hands, my face, and my body, and instead of urging me to throw my shyness and shame away from my food, he dealt with the matter in a way that “heal her with what was the disease” .. His method was wonderful and not what was expected or usual among people .. Instead of urging me to eat pieces of fish, he said: “Ahmed does not like fish.” I pretended to agree with what he said and seemed to abstain completely from eating fish.. I did not eat fish in the following days with the justification that I did not eat fish. fish..
And when they cooked “Zurbian” meat, which is a delicious meal, and before I reached out to eat a frittata of it, he said: “Ahmed does not like meat” Zurbian. )).. under the influence of his words, I deliberately deprived myself of the meat of “Zurbian” as well, despite its smell, which was cooking me alive, explaining my appetite, and hardening me inside and inside me silently and secretly..
It did not stop there, but it was repeated after that with the chicken; Where he said before I extended my hand to her: “Ahmed does not eat chicken meat.” So I arrogantly told them to agree with a smirk, and I falsely testified to myself that I did not like chicken meat..
And the next day, he said, before I reached out to lunch: “Ahmed does not like rice, sanuna, and the ushar.” At that time, I felt that he had pushed me into a corner of me, my shyness and shyness, and pushed me toward an impossible choice that I could not match. The five of them laughed with giggles, as if they were on a date with her after What he said, and I felt that what he was doing was motivated by pushing me to leave my shyness and shyness, and to keep what is possible and reasonable.
I answered him this time with a firm, not without a smile:
– I like everything.
***
He follows..
The picture to the left is Abdul Karim Hazaa and the rest is me and my brother Abdul Karim Saif and the children of my brother Mansour Ali and Nada and the mother of my brother Ali..
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