Arabian Stories | The Kid and the Fortress

Ahmed is a very bright and inquisitive six-year-old boy who lives in a city called Bordj El Kiffan—shortened as Bordj—which has amazing sand beaches and a formidable fortress.
The old fortress was built beside the sea centuries ago, during the Ottoman Empire. It was erected by soldiers and was once guarded by sentries who would squat down beside the majestic cannons that still crown the fortress today. Their snouts stick out of the bastion’s crenelated walls in order to deter outsiders from approaching.

In truth, the fortress looks snotty, standing there all high and mighty against the celestial blue backdrop that merges with the marine one. However, it probably deserves to feel smug after having gone above and beyond the call of duty to protect the burghers who hid behind its walls back in the day. At that time, the fortress deterred the enemy ships that had crossed the seas in hopes of getting a shot at desecrating the jewels ashore from approaching any further. It still stands to this day—well, “stand” is perhaps not the most appropriate word, given that its walls lean precariously against one another. Yet, its silhouette against the dark sky still manages to give the owls of Bordj the shivers every time they wing their way past it at night.
Ahmed often asked his dad, “What is that? Who built it and why?”

“It was built by our forefathers to keep the land safe.”
Ahmed could barely rein back his indomitable spirit of inquiry, but his dad’s replies would satisfy him for the nonce so that he could run off and play with his cousins. They would scamper wildly all around the place, and for some strange reason, his dad would feel like he could relax, knowing that no harm would come to them as long as they stayed in the fortress’ shade. It was as if the fortress were actually watching over them.
The boy feels close to the castle, as in emotionally attached to it. He loves everything about it: its yellowish walls, its smashed windows, its wooden doors . . .

He is deeply fascinated in everything related to it in any way, such as the squawking white gulls that skim its surface every morning during their flights, the lizards that hide within its walls, and the flowers that grow in close proximity to it and bloom in the summer. Read More...

Humanity, the Gist

Lama was a very smart and curious nine-year-old girl, who despite her age was very cultured and knowledgeable about the world. Lately, the religious channels she watched on TV had been mentioning the word “humanity,” mostly apropos of charity work. She had also read the word on Facebook. It had been brought up in association with Daesh’s beheadings. Seeing it written and hearing people talk about it again and again made her ponder over the word’s meaning. She knew it implied something positive, but was there more to it?

She spent the rest of the day in a brown study, cudgeling her brain in an effort to crack the secret to what the word stood for, and before going to bed that night she went to her mother and asked her, “Mum, how would you define ‘humanity’ in a few words?”

Her mother smiled and replied, “That’s something that everyone has to figure out how to define for themselves. You know the meaning already. You just have to be reminded of it, like most of us nowadays. Think about what makes our country great and our human experience of the world so much longer than the one we would be able to have if something of the individual human being didn’t outlive the short amount of time each of us actually spends on this world. Tomorrow I’ll take you to Al Muizz Street, which is one of the oldest and most vibrant streets here in Cairo, so that you can see by looking at the people what humanity means to you.”

The next day, as promised, she took Lama to Al Muizz Street. As soon as they arrived on the colorful and bright road, Lama was bowled over by its magnificence. Thus, she started taking pictures of it. Both sides of the street were awash with small shops selling souvenirs made of brass and wood. The shop owners greeted everyone cheerfully and were so kind as to allow the passersby to take pictures of their goods. Further down the street, Lama and her mother were greeted with smiles from the jewelers, who seemed eager to lend one another a hand whenever opportunities presented themselves.

Then Lama and her mother stumbled across a pastry shop with delicious basbousas andhawawshis. Located across the way was a park with benches where people could sit down to enjoy their grub. In the park itself a street vendor was selling boiled potatoes to the public. After enjoying their treat, Lama and her mother moseyed on. Along this part of the street lay beautiful mosques of great historical value, such as the Al-Hakim or Al-Aqmar Mosque. A family asked Lama’s mother to take a picture of them in front of one of the mosques, and she was happy to oblige. They also came across a small gathering of people chatting with one another in a very friendly and laid-back manner.

Later at home Lama’s mother asked her whether she had learned anything new about the meaning of the word “humanity.” Lama’s response was as follows: “We have to welcome people into our lives, and in order to live peacefully with one another, we have to delve into our hearts and find a way to forgive the people who we believe have wronged us. Furthermore, we should rush to the aid of those who might be in need of it. We shouldn’t wish harm on anyone and must stop discriminating against others, because we are all equal.”

“Very good, my dear,” said her mother. “That is all we have to do to preserve our humanity. At the end of the day, most of humanity’s problems can be solved by having a fresh pair of eyes cast an innocent look at the world.”

 Lama was a very smart and curious nine-year-old girl, who despite her age was very cultured and knowledgeable about the world. Lately, the religious channels she watched on TV had been mentioning the word “humanity,” mostly apropos of charity work. She had also read the word on Facebook. It had been brought up in association with Daesh’s beheadings. Seeing it written and hearing people talk about it again and again made her ponder over the word’s meaning. She knew it implied something positive, but was there more to it?

She spent the rest of the day in a brown study, cudgeling her brain in an effort to crack the secret to what the word stood for, and before going to bed that night she went to her mother and asked her, “Mum, how would you define ‘humanity’ in a few words?”

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