Friday

July 8th 2011, Egypt. Tahrir Square.

Tahrir Square, experience #1.
Whilst 6 months ago, Tahrir square ran rich with unity, passion and devastation,  leading to the demise of a disguised dictatorship run by none other than Hosny Mubarak, his family and possy of bribed, money-loving, power-hoarding idiots, I sat on the side lines in London.

Although I thought I was doing my part by standing outside the Egyptian embassy in London, amongst other Egyptians living abroad, chanting the same chants as in Tahrir, it comes down to nothing in comparison to what my brothers and sisters did here. The men and women that stood here. The martyrs that died here.

Today, July 8th 2011, I stood in that same square.
I walked through crowds of newspaper hats and strewn garbage. Initially, walking down the bridge towards the crowd I vainly considered if my white lacoste shoes were going to get damaged (not a proud moment). Within seconds of hearing the crowd from a distance, I felt a complete change of heart. Being checked at the gate by other Egyptians, taking it upon themselves to ensure anyone entering was weaponless and in support of others joining them and then seeing the crowd. Hearing all of them-different groups, with different supporters, chanting different things, but all there for one cause: undeniably as memorable a moment as possible.

I've got to admit, holding back tears was actually something I had to deal with. I was so honoured. Right there, I stood in the place where Egyptians denied a 30 year dictatorship any further power. I stood where martyrs sacrificed themselves, and so inspired 1000's of others. I stood in a place where we wanted change and so stayed until we got it.

I belong to people that are strong. That are united. That believe in change and get it. It can't be said in any other way:
Ta7ya Masr.

A.