Diary
Seventh series In Tur Al Baha (1-7) Ahmed Seif Hashed
My memoirs .. from the details of my life.. Ahmed Seif Hashed
Seventh series
In Tur Al Baha (1-7)
Ahmed Seif Hashed
(1 )
A school dear to us from ignorance
When I finished primary school, I had to enroll in middle school.. There is no middle school in our remote area located in the far southern outskirts of the authority of Sanaa, which called itself a state, and we used to call it the authority in the north..
Our area and village were far away and deprived of the most basic services.. no transportation, no communications, no health, no social care, and we did not find the slightest interest on the part of that authority.. we did not find an impact for it in our lives except by adding to the suffering that burdens our people, such as (ports) and pursuits. Security and Zakat levies.
We do not touch or feel the state’s services towards us, and it is like a big zero in the size of the absence of a homeland, and the rare and few do not reach, and if it arrives, it does not change the situation.. She does not have a duty for us, and she has all the rights and duties upon us.. Ignorance permeates our situation and dominates our minds, and we are trying to extract what is possible to extract from the impossible.. We are trying to make a path to light in the midst of that thick darkness..
We had no escape from the inevitable oppression of ignorance, except for the state of the south, where there was a middle school in the center of Tur Al Baha, whose market we used to go to on Saturdays every week if necessary or necessary.. And that school is about twenty kilometers away from our village, and for Hassan We noticed that there was an internal section attached to the school, in which housing and food were provided for our likes.
The (Martyr Najeeb Preparatory School) in Tur Al-Baha was our capital of ignorance, and many students of the neighboring areas in the north who were threatened by ignorance, loss or interruption of studies found this school a savior and a refuge from certain ignorance..
A large school compared to what we went through and the schools we knew at the time, as well as being clean and tidy and its teachers are efficient.. I was overwhelmed with happiness when I found spacious classrooms, a modern and bright engineering method of construction, special glass windows, and chairs worthy of those who are higher in rank and level than us. All in all, I had never known a school like it before, and its internal section was new or newly built.
We were overjoyed when, on the first day of joining this school, we received new sheets, mattresses, and clean eating utensils.. Everything was free and without deficiencies or defects, except that the nutrition only was not enough for us or that our appetite for food was more than what was offered to us, and overall, malnutrition haunted me during The period of my preparatory studies in this school, which cherished us from certain ignorance..
I was often overwhelmed with fever, and I basked in the sun every time I had a fever bout.. Anemia and malnutrition were constant with me, and heavy on my health.. I sometimes suffered from want and destitution, and my mother was the most helpful person to get me through that stage..
It was allowed for those of us who wanted to leave Thursday noon and spend the Friday vacation with his family, provided that he would return to school on Saturday morning.. Cars would take me to (Ras Wadi Shaab) at Al-Rawah, and then I would go back to the village on foot, and likewise in going..
Sometimes I walked on foot from the house to (the courtyard) to benefit from the transportation expenses that my father gave me, and sometimes I also did it on the way back.. When walking, we searched for shortcuts such as the “blower road” and sometimes we climbed in the back of cars in the middle of the road Free, we call it (an expression), in reference to our free transfer..
Oh, the nobility and magnificence of the car owners who appreciated our conditions, and did not charge us for our transportation!! Oh, the nobility of “Abu Shanab,” the owner of the car, “the bruised one,” the man who was the most immersed in us with kindness and grace that remains to this day.. What a beautiful soul, “Rajah,” the poor person who spurts out with self-singing, and flows with beauty, humanity and tenderness. I learned from them the importance of making a beautiful person in his life with those who need him.
***
(2)
Revolutionary leftist extremism
The stage in the south in that period was an extreme leftist and revolutionary, and in the best cases, it was not without tendencies of recklessness, extremism, and excessive enthusiasm.
The “transportation” students were traveling in open-topped Landerovers to school in the courtyard, or on their way back, And with them were some citizens, chanting revolutionary slogans, but some of them were of a provocative nature and were not free from the exercise of coercion against those who were conservative about what was happening, or had a different opinion about it..
The chants were not without moral oppression, arm wiping, and perhaps even terrorism against those who did not announce it. His support for the declared revolutionary political trend.
Some of those chants were claiming for themselves or their owners the right and the right and monopolizing the truth, and they practiced exclusion against those who differed with them.. chants that did not accept diversity and plurality of opinion, and did not deal with the other opinion, and were accustomed to dividing people into “for and against”, and thus practiced their incitement that reached a limit Terrorism of the silent, whom you describe as negative.
It is a totalitarian and extremist position that sums it up “either you are with us or you are against us.” The position of the silent or hesitant was described as negative, a position that does not appeal to some who consider themselves revolutionaries armed with revolutionary awareness, and the negative people are terrorized and threatened to strike them in the future with an iron hand..
Among those chants that still stick in my memory:
“Oh, woe to you, my negative, from our violent blow
The hidden is revealed, and the stages are long.”
Another chant that made me sad, and left an administrative trail about those around me saying: “Knock the sheikhs.. Knock them.”
Perhaps the reason was because my mother’s brothers in the north were affiliated with the “Sheikhs” category, although their circumstances were very modest and perhaps miserable.. There were no important social differences that distinguished them from the general public, or at least in relation to the average among them.
I remember that my uncle, my mother’s brother (Ali Salem-Dabal) used to borrow and borrow some money from my father, who is also in a tight and unaffordable condition.. My grandfather, my mother’s father, was known for his asceticism and humility, and he worked for his life at the expense of his worldly life, and most of his time was in seclusion reciting the Qur’an.
In his office or in his room to draw near to his Lord, hoping for his mercy and paradise.
However, this did not excuse him from the extremism and recklessness of the left in the south, when he went to Aden for the purpose of receiving treatment; He was forcibly hidden, and there has been no news of him since then, and we no longer know anything about him to this day.
***
And between the past and the present, the extremists were similar in their excessive enthusiasm, and their claim to monopolize the truth and right, and what we lived through in the years of this war and what we still live in, and what we suffered in it from childishness, extremism and racism, witness and science, reminding us of everyone who sees that life is only in two colors black and white.. Their life does not accept that Be neutral or take a different position from their alignments, or even be against the parties to the conflict together.. The same is also said about the stance of the war and conflict parties regarding issues and rights of opinion and expression..
We are suffocated by this closed extremism in the face of pluralism and diversity.. Each party in the war wanted to drag us to its polluted swamp, and even wanted to carry us and plunge us into its swamp until it reaches its bottom. The homeland is the experience of his father, and even sees himself as the homeland as he imagines and believes..
Over the years, many illusions began to unfold, but at the cost of a homeland that has become torn and wasted.. It is the time of frivolous and extremists and the poor outcomes of this war, which is full of ugliness, conspiracies and hatred, and burdened with destruction and severe devastation.
Extremism is a danger not only to the different and the different, but to reason, logic, wisdom, pluralism, diversity, and harmony.. a danger to the people, society, and the future.. The policy of “whoever is not with us is against us” is a terrifying and destructive policy for peoples, nations, and the future we seek..
Extremist religious groups divide people into two camps only, and some religious movements such as the Houthis became brutalized and became, after enabling, hostile to those who are not with them, describing him as a traitor, a mercenary or a hypocrite who must be subjugated to their own and small project, or crushed by their valor, oppression and terrifying power, while other political groups, on the other hand, became radicalized, and became lost With the aggression and occupation until it became the carrier of its agendas and its executor at the expense of the country and its future.
***
And back to what I was about: I studied middle school at the Martyr Naguib School in Tur al-Baha in the mid-seventies, specifically from the year (1976 – 1978), if memory does not betray..
I lived in the (internal section), and quite a few children from the neighboring northern regions attended this school and resided in its internal section, and the state of the south provided them with food in addition to housing.. Rather, the principal of the school from the north was Abdo Ali from Qubeita Al-Akroub, and Hassan Muhammad Ali was Her political deputy was from Qubeita Sobeih in the north, and the official of the cultural center was from Ma’bak or Sawalha in the north.
The reason we went to the south to study was either because there were no preparatory schools in our tired countryside, or for political and social reasons that prompted us to go to study in this southern school, which we do not forget, no matter how many days and years have passed.
In general, the state of the south – the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen – had the merit that we will not and will not forget, and we will not forget.
We were in dire need of education, and without it we preyed on ignorance and robbed us of absence, and perhaps our loss was a possibility, if not by a certain and certain ruling.. In this regard, there is nothing wrong with Recalling the words of the poet Al-Mutanabbi:
If you honor the honorable his queen *** and if you honor the mean rebellion.
***
(3)
My class from school
I was dismissed from the Martyr Najeeb School in the center of Tur Al Baha for a period of probably two weeks or less, and this decision to dismiss was not specified at the beginning, and interfered with administrative and psychological pressure to make me confess what I had achieved, but I did not confess, despite the evidence..
I left the “Al-Wahda” school due to a curse that I inflicted on the school, so I angered the first teacher in the school, who left the table in front of him, and tried to catch up with me, but my legs were lighter than him, and I did not return to him or to the school, and I cursed the school at the height of my excitement, She hit me alone, and no one else was hurt but me.
The difference is that my first departure was the most important cycle of momentary emotion, and stubbornness also had its role in not asking for revision, and my father was not enthusiastic about returning, and he preferred to study in a people instead of reviewing..
As for my two-week dismissal from the Martyr Najeeb School, in the first year of my preparatory school by the school director Abdo Ali Al-Zughair, it came in support of psychological pressure, in order to push me to confess and confess to myself and those with me, and most importantly, the accusation and dismissal came after patience and investigation not without cunning And subtle..
***
Jamil Qaid Saleh was one of my dearest colleagues and friends at the Martyr Najib School in Tur al-Baha.. We had great intimacy and perhaps harmony of horoscopes and omens.. We agreed to draft a leaflet, and white papers were bought, and they were divided into equal and noticeable scraps, and because my handwriting was more beautiful than my friend. I took over writing it.. I wrote what we agreed on.. Our defense was respectable, and what we wrote was disrespectful, and it included defamation and abuse, and these scraps were secretly distributed by both of us in the market and school halls.
The principal of the school was informed of some of those scraps that were found, and he may have sent someone to collect the rest of them.. The contents of them were absorbed, and their letters, words, handwriting and method of writing were examined, and efforts were made to reach the knowledge of their writer.. The investigation continued for days that I do not remember.
Or maybe a week has passed since it was written and distributed.
The investigation continued to be conducted with great care and secrecy, while my friend Jamil and I believed that the matter had been bypassed, and not even the noise we wanted to stand up to what we mentioned in the publication, and we did not know of any measures that we envisaged from distributing it..
Perhaps what my colleague and I did was a reckless and even childish act, and I think that the director was wiser, and took full responsibility for what happened, and his investigation and concealment showed a high sense and responsibility on the part of the director that deserves appreciation. What was mentioned in the publication, even if what we did was not free of absurdity, and some of that may have been done, but it did not sleep to our knowledge, and his behavior was done in a right and wise manner, at a lower cost, and without noise.. Maybe the professor had all the right Director Abdo Ali Al-Saghir.
But how did the manager find out that I was the author of this post?! This question was roaming inside me!! I was bewildered before I knew what some of them had squandered, and some of them remain to this day.
I used to write lessons and answer homework questions by imitating the handwriting of my colleague Mustafa Al-Fadhili.. It was a beautiful plan with an attractive and captivating luster.. I was trying to imitate and imitate his beautiful and charming handwriting.. My colleague Mustafa was writing the letter € in a distinctive way that looks like two overlapping rings, one of them large. And the other one is small.. He used to write it with a different distinction.. I imitated him in writing it, and it was the loophole that revealed what he managed, or it was the thread that led to the evidence, if it was not the evidence itself..
While I was at seven o’clock in the evening writing my homework in the internal section, the school director faltered with whispered steps that I did not hear, and as soon as I raised my head after a few minutes and looked up until I saw him standing and watching what I write while he was standing .. The truth did not occur to me that It’s about looking for the author of the publication!! I don’t know why he meant me in particular and not the others?! I don’t think it’s a coincidence!! I don’t know how his feet led him to me without anyone else!! That was my confusion throughout my ordeal.
And after calves trawling through the notebook in which I was writing, he took it with him; He said to me startled: Join me to the administration?! The truth is, I did not know that it was related to the publication, and amazement was wearing my face, and I did not know that anyone would guide my line, perhaps among hundreds of students!! I do not know how he chose me from the dozens of students who were at that time reviewing their lessons in the internal department!! I don’t know how he was guided to reach the author of the publication within days or a week at most, and without my knowing or anyone of my friends knowing that he is looking for someone!! It was a question and a puzzle for me.
I arrived at the headquarters of the administration, and the director greeted me with the calm and resolute reception of the investigator.. He was calm and very confident that I was the one who wrote the post, no one else! But he just wants to know who participated, pushed me, and incited me to write it?! He had a great certainty that I was the author of the publication, while I was denying, and I denied with diligence and persistence, although I appeared to be naked to the point of nakedness.. I may not be good at lying, but I am stiff in denial..
By insisting on my denial, I challenged him. He too wanted to hear the confession from me personally, even though everything became clear in his conviction, and even in my hidden conviction that I kept from him. And it proves to me that the letter € is similar between what is in the publication and what is written in my notebook, and even in solving the homework that I was writing, while he was standing monitoring the words I am writing, then he moved to some letters and words in order to surrender and confess to him the details. He was waiting for my collapse or my surrender by confession, and his reasoning had begun to be strong and palatable, and only denial would deny it, and I was indeed that denial.
I continued with my boyish insistence that I was not myself, without thinking of providing any presumption or justification to support my denial.. “The one who is missing something does not give it,” and I was, and at the same time I knew that confession would lead me to many details, and that on top of what was required of me is Find out who subscribed to me.
I did not even try to defend myself by paying the accusation against her by noting that I am not the only one who writes the letter “H” in that way, and thus my colleague Mustafa Al-Fadli was called to the case of suspicion, although Mustafa did not know anything about what we intended and my colleague Jamil Qaid and I did.
I also saw the impossibility of throwing my beautiful colleague into the accusation circle.. I might feel that I would become a villain and a coward if I tried to throw my burden on my colleague and friend, with whom I had strong intimacy and distinguished companionship that I could not sacrifice, but she is the one who deserves the sacrifice, and at any cost dictated by my magnanimity, It has to be paid..
He was interrogating me, trying to lure me to admit facilitating his results, rather he tempted me that he would absolve me from any punishment, and would hold the partner responsible, he was one or more… Also, it is despicable for me to defend myself by mentioning the name of my friend Mustafa, who was completely innocent of what happened.. I preferred denial and exaggeration even though he does not exonerate me.
Many questions were inside me: Why was I the only one who got the investigation, and no one else got it, including Mustafa Al-Fadhili, who is the most famous for his handwriting and for writing the “H” in this way?! Why me specifically, while my colleague and friend Mustafa is the original and the creator who is not imitated, but I am just imitating him?! How can the original be missed and the one who is below it caught?! How did the director know that this is exactly my line among hundreds of students studying in the same school?! I didn’t know that the director had taken any student’s notebook to compare his handwriting with the publication!! How did he know that I was the one who wrote the publication out of the possibility of more than a hundred students in the internal department?! You have concluded that it is not possible that what happened was purely a coincidence?!
My denial was stubborn, and all attempts to intimidate and entice my manager during the investigation failed, including threatening to refer me to the criminal investigation center at the center, and he chose instead to dismiss me from school without specifying any period, and at the same time he obligated me not to leave the internal department, while leaving the door ajar to confess to him in Anytime I find my desire..
My class lasted for two weeks or less, and what I reached most of it was that the “legalist” was entrusted with managing the cultural center, he was the one who found my publications and collected them discreetly and secretly with others from the center of the market and nearby squares..
Every day or two, and sometimes three days, the school director would try to summon me, and check whether I intended or resolved to confess and return from denial, but to no avail.. After two weeks of failing to obtain a confession, neither for myself nor for anyone else, two weeks were satisfied as a penalty of dismissal.
Administrative, and brought me back to study, and the matter ended there.. Nevertheless, I acknowledge the wisdom and wisdom of this director, and the talent of a successful investigator, and more than that, he was a high-class educator.
***
(4)
Salimin and Fattah and our bloody disappointment!
In the second year of preparatory school, most likely, we were taken out of school to receive the president safely, and the Secretary General of the political organization, Abdel Fattah Ismail, who was no less important than him, with a difference in the popularity of the first and the elitistness of the second.. A day that seemed exceptional to us, and to the center, which mobilized its soldiers, officers and officials, and a large gathering of citizens, in order to receive senior statesmen and senior guests.. We students went out in regular rows, then we became organized in two rows on both sides of the road extending from the center gate to a distance of more than a kilometer. On the way to their arrival.
My place in the class was in the side adjacent to the hospital, which was still new, presented as a gift from the State of Kuwait, and was named after a military pilot from the Ma’bak area in the north, he studied, graduated and was martyred in the south. My two brothers are in the same school.
I was waiting patiently and eagerly looking forward to see Salmeen and Abdel Fattah Ismail.. I was telling myself: Such an event or opportunity will not be repeated twice in my life.. However, what happened, was the worst.. This opportunity was spoiled, and no other time came..
I wanted to run, belong, and be proud in front of my peers in the village – which does not know chiefs or visits – that I saw face to face the beloved president safely, and the outstanding theorist Abdel-Fattah Ismail.. The impact of hearing the names on my ears was astonishing and attractive. A few meters away, they wave to us greetings and peace.
While I was waiting for their arrival, it seemed as though history would honor me by witnessing two men who were among its makers.. I wanted to say to my peers in my village: I stared and my eyes searched for whom the eyes yearn for.. I saw what you did not see..
I sought knowledge of what is impossible for you to gather. I wanted to respond to my peers, remembering the time of childhood, and they are proud of visiting the births of Al-Khidr, Despair and Saeed Ibn Abdan, as if they are talking about the conquest of space, while I am helpless and miserable chewing my wounds and my heartbreak with heavy silence and more intense sadness..
Salimin
I was waiting for the President and the Secretary-General to pass at a short distance in front of me, and I wish they would pass very slowly; To scrutinize them as much as I can, and store in memory their faces and their looks and many details, or at least what I was able to capture and memorize.. It is the first time in my life that I will see directly the President and the Secretary-General, but the long and heavy wait under the blazing sun, They arrived later than the appointed time.
In the opposite queue on the other side was a group of people from the Tur al-Baha region. I had fought with them more than once, and they had always provoked me many times.. Between them and me there were boys’ hatred and stubborn defiance, and they were like a stalking gang.. When I saw them I felt alienated, and that I was not I am from the people of those lands, and perhaps they also felt that I was an outsider and a stranger who had been provoked.
They kept staring at me, mocking me, laughing at me, and challenging me.. and I, on the other hand, rose to the challenge, and I told them to choose one of you and he and I to fight head to head. One of them came down and was full of body, healthy and shining like the sun.. He was reproachful of the body, thick and blonde with hair and skin He resembles English children, while I was thin, exhausted, weak in build, and suffering from malnutrition.. I said to myself, seeing the great imbalance in the equation: Perhaps the knife creates a balance in our superiority, or outweighs the matter in my favour..
I told them that we would go down to fight behind the nearby sand hill, 200 meters away, so that we would be safe from any interference that would help me or help him, and his companions were confident that victory had become for them an ally and sure, and without controversy or a different possibility, there is no comparison between us, if it is necessary to compare It’s completely in favor of my opponent.
His companions climbed up the sand hill, or rather the nearby sand bulge, to see the scene of the fight, and I was hiding a small, thin knife, used for cutting roti, which I had bought a few days before, defensively in anticipation of an emergency or a possible situation, especially since they had been stalking me as a mob for the past few days..
We arrived singularly the place we chose for the duel. Perhaps I was a coward and cunning, and perhaps I wanted to defeat a bitter defeat that had become a certainty.. Confusion possessed him and I drew the knife surprisingly and quickly, and stabbed him in the abdomen; So he ran away in a panic, screaming “Knife.. Knife.” As I was chasing him, trying to stab him in more than one place, his thin blade was crooked after being stabbed to his strong head while he was fleeing.. I felt that any slackness or reluctance to pursue him might upset the equation The whole fight is in his favour, and therefore his revenge will be greater, so I did not give him such an opportunity, while his companions became distracted and confused in the reaction.
Two teachers rushed to his rescue, took the knife from me, and grabbed me tightly and forcefully as the police caught the criminals, and when I looked at the one I fought with, and he was screaming threatening to kill me, I was surprised to see the amount of blood and its abundance on his white shirt .. I did not know that all this blood would ooze from the abdomen, and with that Speed and intensity…
The blood was bleeding in a way I did not expect.. I began to feel the enormity of what I had done, and I felt remorse and heartbreak, and even sadness for it.. I worried that it would reach the point of catastrophe.. I felt that I was reckless and foolish and that gambling and a misplaced challenge could A person turned from a normal person to a criminal and a murderer.. I could have contented myself with pointing the knife in his face to prevent what happened from happening even if I looked more cowardly..
They took him to the hospital, and they took me to prison, and the regret was great.. I regretted my actions and the injured, and I regretted even more that I missed the opportunity to see President Abdel Fattah Ismail, who arrived safely and I arrived at the prison before they came.. I missed the opportunity I had and did not return again and forever..
And just as my disappointment was foolish and bloody on that day, I grieved greatly when the history of the great comrades was disappointed, as if what happened to me on that day was a bad omen that imitated ends that were supposed to be long and bright, but fate had his word that we could have calculated before, but we all sinned. The reckoning, and those endings were bloody and unfortunate, and they were not devoid of adolescence and indiscretion.
***
(5)
In prison!
While I was in the custody of the soldiers, one of the injured’s relatives rushed, I think his cousin, probably his name is Talal.. He is tall and well proportioned, and his complexion is lightly tan.. The first thing he saw was shocked by my appearance.. I looked without expecting it or without what he had imagined. .. He found me in front of him a small dwarf who did not carry anything worth comparing with his injured cousin .. He shouted in the face of those who were present with wrathful anger: “We cannot accept ten of this”?! Perhaps he was right if we look at the matter in his measure.. Indeed, my appearance was a dwarf, exhausted, pallid, stray, frowning, wretched, while his injured relative was frustrated. And the color of his eyes and his body, which is hoarded in flesh and grease.
I watched some of what was happening.. the preparation of the detention order.. the military was keen that I would not escape or escape.. the soldiers watched as I read my frowned, silent face.. I saw ambiguous questions in the faces of some of the attendees.. I felt the presence of words that the eyes of the eyes wanted to say. But they turned it around for reasons that might belong to them.
Observe the written direction of the detention order.. Handing over the detention order to the detention officer.. Take me to the detention room.. Opening the lock and chains.. Opening the door to the detention room.. Instructing me to enter.. Closing the door with chains and the large lock.. I felt that I had committed A terrible and terrible thing.
It was the first time I was imprisoned..a bitter experience in which I entered for the first time..a dense feeling of the constraint of freedom with walls, walls and iron..the detention room was five meters long or less, and two meters wide, maybe a little more, and a small window clasped with iron.. I felt that I was entering a stage The darkest in my life, and I must prepare and prepare for the worst.. I felt that a bad unknown awaits me, I do not know exactly its details and its end..
The detention room was empty and there were no lockers other than me.. Perhaps the occasion of the visit and the guests required that.. Perhaps some prisoners were transferred to the center building located on the Tur, or there was another prison in the center building..
I wished that Salmin and Abdel-Fattah would visit the detention room..I might see them closely..Maybe they might visit the corridors of the place or even visit the officers and soldiers stationed there, but unfortunately this did not happen..and instead of what I wanted to watch from the splendid flights, and hands and stop waving greetings and peace to us , I began to gaze at a gloomy ceiling and dumb walls..No nothing but scribbles and memories of prisoners on those bare walls..I wanted to have a magic pen, or a piece of coal, or even a nail I scribbled in, and write my memories and the date of my imprisonment on the wall of the wall, to tell the new inmates Or those coming after a while: we passed by here, and we stayed for a while.
Coincidentally and unfortunately, my mother was ill and was lying in the same hospital where the injured person was treated. In fact, the brother of the victim was the director of the same hospital.. I began to worry about my mother.. How will she be treated after my action that took blood from the brother of the hospital director?!! Perhaps they will expel her, they may harm her, or they may poison her as a medicine or a drug, and avenge for their affliction will take place against my mother, who is in the hospital for treatment.
An hour or more after the end of the speech, the criminal investigation officer summoned me.. they brought me to him.. I watched the knife on the table with interest as it was a crime instrument.. the investigation officer ordered his clerk to open the report, and he recited an introduction that made me feel that the matter was grave, and that I was walking down a road. The court, and the imposition of a penalty beyond my ability to bear..
After questioning and answering and acknowledging what was witnessed, and confronting me with the knife as the tool of the crime, and after establishing the facts and details that I had narrated, which do not differ from what happened in reality, the officer ordered to return me to detention. Stable and reliable..
After I was taken back into custody, a man from the Popular Forces, named Abdul Wahab from the “Ghoul” area, came out of the door and his origins go back to “Al-Qubeita” from which he and his brother Abdul Hamid came, or perhaps their two sons brought them from a time apart, and they became permanent residents in the area.” The southern ghoul..
His look was like an angel who offers me help without asking.. Like a cloud of rain and rain for help.. Mercy coming from a destiny that cares and does not forget who he loves.. Like Jacob who loves his son Joseph.. Like Abraham, the father of Ismail, but without a knife, no ransom, or sacrifice.. He gave me a bed and a blanket. I might try to provide it.
Abdel-Wahhab was working in the same place that was separated from the detention a few meters.. I looked with his smile, which eased a weight that I could not bear, those of recent age.. His smile gave me the reassurance and serenity that I needed most.. His sweet talk made me feel that I knew him from Longer than my short life..
After an hour, I felt exhausted.. I felt sleep falling and relaxing my exhausted eyelids, and the fading weighing on my tired eyes.. I surrendered to sleep and fell into a deep sleep.. I woke up a few hours later!! I got up as if I was crazy, or as if a goblin stood over my head.. I was taken aback and amazed as I asked: Where am I?! where am I?! After a while, I gathered the scattered pieces of my flying awareness, and I recovered the image of reality, and I realized that I was imprisoned, that I had committed a crime, and that there was an injured victim, who might be threatened with death.
After waking up and sleeping, I began to adapt to the situation I live in.. I went back to sleep and then got up a few hours later, and I became aware of my new situation and condition, and perhaps I seemed ready to adapt, and some of the anxiety that was sweeping me in an overwhelming manner at the beginning has disappeared..
My brother’s companion, Saeed Abdul-Wali, went from Tur Al Baha to the village.. Inform my brother of what happened.. My brother came from the village to the Tur Al Baha center the next day, and fortunately for me, the stab was not deep, and my brother was respected and appreciated by the officials in the district center, especially Muhammad Taher, the commissioner of the center, and “Ba’ali” the organizing official in the center, and that I have always been a juvenile, and for these considerations, I was released under the guarantee of my brother, however, I was summoned and arrested by the research official more than once, and in one of them, I and the injured were arrested together after he was cured From his injury, the case was resolved and her file closed.
As for my mother, nothing happened to her, but she was terrified and terrified, after she learned from some of my fellow students about what happened.
What happened was reckless, reckless, and miscalculation at an age in which I was still a juvenile, and my feeling of alienation, repeated provocation, and a feeling of transcendence by what seemed to me to be a gang led me to an act that I regretted and learned from.
I also regretted not being able to see President Abdel-Fattah Ismail..After a period of perhaps months, I was shocked by the news of the overthrow of Salmeen, who was loved and popular with many simple people, including the good man Abdel-Wahhab, while Abdel-Fattah Ismail’s popularity was mostly elite, and his stature and prestige For the educated…
The question remains: Why does politics spoil the relationship between those we love?! Is it the world and power, or the absence of reason, and the lack of wisdom?! Is it the presence of recklessness and recklessness, or lack of experience..?! Perhaps the reasons are complex and overlapped with each other?! The cycles of violence that the south witnessed had disastrous results that toppled one after the other until they managed to overwhelm everyone, burdened society unbearably, and distorted what was supposed to be beautiful and exemplary.
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(6)
My educational level in the preparatory stage
In the preparatory stage, I did not excel in my studies, but the general level was good during the three preparatory years.. I did not fail in any subject, but in some subjects I succeeded in them after the rise of the soul.. I tended to social subjects and excel in them, followed by science subjects..
The results of the mathematics subjects were generally at a good level, even if I later became at the level of practical reality regarding me, and for a long time I failed in them, and it was difficult to count after a million.. I might waste money, but what I do not regret it.. failed par excellence in accumulating wealth or hoarding wealth. And more failed to keep the white shark until the black day..
Perhaps I find myself generous and more than him. I find myself not mean.. Maybe in some citizens I misjudge and see a little too much.. I still remember when I was a judge and I appreciated the fees of the legal accountant Ahmed Saeed Al-Dahi, and he reprimanded me with a sentence or a question in the middle of the court, and he was right when he said Lee: Do you want me to work as forced labor?! At that time, I realized the extent of the error I had fallen into, and I appreciate the fees, and this may be due in part to a lack of experience in estimating fees, or to my view of increasing money as soon as I measure it by the amount of my salary..
National education or the history of the Yemeni revolution, perhaps I had more love than Islamic education, which was of little weight in the hierarchy of subjects in the general syllabus.. I used to see memorizing a verse, I think you, more difficult than creating a quarrel in the Sam Mountain.. Memorizing a poem is many times easier than memorizing a surah in a syllabus. Study.. I am still haunted to this day by the “Al-Fatihah” knot that my father beat me to in order to memorize it..
My ability to memorize has become weak, or my memorization has become weak.. Forgetting invaded much of what I memorized with difficulty.
I may revolt and resist and stand up to injustice and stubbornly confront it, and I cannot tolerate an injustice or an oppressor that still stalks the right and tyrannizes over it. I align myself with the values of love, freedom and tolerance, or so I claim, or rather I try to be..
The Arabic language used to like some of its materials, and some of them are still poor and unsuccessful to this day.. I became a hopeless situation in writing one page without errors in spelling and grammar.. Spelling and grammar have become another complex that imposes itself on my life, and a lot of what I write is flawed, and it seems to spoil me. Charming and beautiful, and I think she will accompany me until the end..
History in middle school was the subject that I liked the most, because the subject teacher was familiar with his subject, and he did not leave the lesson unless he transferred it to our understanding as it should.. He explained the lesson carefully and then dictated the lesson to us, then repeated it through the discussion.. and in a non-boring repetition, and all This was done with great humility, without boredom or heaviness..
One of the most difficult subjects I faced in the course of my preparatory studies was English; Because the schools of the south taught it from the fifth grade, while the schools of the north taught it from the first preparatory level. I did not study English in the North, in addition to the previous weakness that accompanied me in this subject in the fifth grade during my studies at the “Shaab” school, and thus this gap became bigger and wider in my subsequent educational life until university .. and the situation worsened after that..
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(7)
A test and a catastrophe
In the third year of middle school, Ali Al-Khafif was appointed as the new general director of the Martyr Najeeb School, who is from the south, after the previous director left it to work in the north.
The new principal was kind and friendly, and as soon as I was living through the ministerial exams, and I still had three courses waiting for me to be tested, the school director conveyed the shocking news to me, but in installments that makes me pass the exams for those courses at a lower psychological cost that maintains my academic level in exams..
The director tried to keep me hopeful that my brother was injured in an ambush, but he is recovering, and the injury is not serious. In fact, my brother has passed away.. By conveying this news, the director wanted to spare me any trauma that would affect my psychological condition in the remaining exams for me, and not affect What happened to the results of those courses’ exams.. He wanted to cut off any other sources that might reach me and cause me great confusion despite the narrow circulation of my brother’s death.. At the same time, he intended to accept the tragedy gradually, and to prevent what happened from causing me a possible collapse, or major psychological repercussions. As soon as I know…
The school principal was right when he tried to reduce the impact of what happened on my psyche, so as not to affect my exam results, and at the same time prepares me to come to terms with the shocking truth.
The truth was that my brother was ambushed, and he was rescued to Tur al-Baha, and it was decided to take him to Aden after arriving at the hospital and performing some necessary first aid.. Then he died on the same night on the way before reaching Aden, and his body was buried in the “Aidarous” cemetery in Crater.. Pain I say that half of my sadness is in Eden, O Eden..Who is this who takes me away from you, and my sorrows are like my joy, like my love, striking in your nostrils and in your depths, O Eden?
The principal of the school succeeded in making me pass the exam successfully, and he succeeded more in making my collision with the truth less intense.
I completed the exams for the last year of the preparatory stage in the Al-Baha phase, and I gradually became sure of the truth of the news of my brother’s death. Nevertheless, Sultan’s delusion kept pace with what the soul desires and desires, and my illusion continued to reject this most bitter truth in my life.
How painful was the bereavement?! How can I believe the news?!! From excessive attachment, we do not believe the facts, even if we witness them with our own eyes.. It is love and attachment to those we love.
I passed the preparatory stage, and achieved the result of the third year in it with a success rate of 78%, and despite the modesty of this percentage, I was satisfied with it, and with it I moved to study the secondary stage at the “Proletariat” school located on the road separating the governorate of Aden and Lahj..
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The eighth series follows…
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