On jailed activist Alaa Abd El Fattah for the sixth anniversary of the January 25 revolution.
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How do you remember the January revolution without remembering Alaa?
How do the children of the 90s remember the spark of revolution, the martyrs and the injured without remembering Alaa?
How do you consider tomorrow, a tomorrow of “coming up with solutions” without jailing one another, without remembering Alaa?
How do you demand “not to be jailed, tortured or hungry” without remembering Alaa?
How do you remember the students, the dome [of Cairo University], the stairs and C28, without remembering Alaa?
How do you remember your friends at the heart of protest without remembering Alaa?
How do you think of those with solutions that don’t even kill their enemies without remembering Alaa?
How do you remember all those times you laughed at his jokes without remembering Alaa?
How do you recall the events that shaped the person you are today, your courage in thinking of an alternative and just solution because he suggested it, without remembering Alaa?
How do you remember a dictator without mentioning what he did to Alaa?
How do you see tomorrow while you are missing a passionate friend?
Or forget, when his disappearance from your daily life becomes normal, when it is never normal and cannot be normalized?
Oh Alaa, even saying “I’m sorry” became meaningless. Oh Alaa, my smile is fading and the day is never normal.
Oh Alaa, tomorrow is ours, with the logic of science, time, and the life of Khaled.
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Translated by Mai Shams El Din Ismail. Originally in Arabic here.
