25 January, Eid El Shorta (Police Day), of 2011 fell on a Tuesday. I was sitting next to my mom in – the newly opened at the time – Tivoli Dome in Heliopolis, happy I had a day off school. I had just turned ten a couple of months earlier and I listened while my family talked about the danger of technology and the ‘kids’ who thought they would start a revolution through Facebook. I remember very clearly the worry on my mother’s face, and I remember equally a family member assuring everyone that nothing will come of it. He could not have been more wrong. Children are often forgotten amidst events of collective violence. They become symbols of tarnished innocence or cards to draw international empathy with. Children are always “the future”, but this ambiguous haze is drawn around us because the minute we are no longer children, we are sidelined for being youth. It seems like people often forget that children don’t necessarily forget, and that what we witness and experience can very much shape who we become. At the time, I lived in a small and enclosed…
11 Years Later, I Recollect My Childhood Memories of the Egyptian Revolution
January 25, 2022
