Guilt
I don’t know if guilt is the suitable word in describing the feeling I had this morning, when I went out from my father’s vehicle running to book a seat in the public taxi. A young girl maybe 18 or maximum 20 years old, was crossing the street holding in her hand a shiny metal stick. At first glance a person may not notice the purpose of that stick, but after a second I noted that she was sensing her way with that stick. I froze in my place sticking my eyes on her turbulent steps, watching her fighting the wind trying to see the light in the dark world she’s in.
I wanted to help her, to give her a hand in finding what she was looking for, but I lately realized that what she’s anxious for isn’t something I know. Cold faces and cold eyes were starring, judging and ducking her in every single movement, I don’t blame them because I was one of them. Deeply in my soul something strong was whispering to my conscious to take the first step and to help her in finding a seat like every body else in one of these taxes.But the north wind was stronger than my conscious it forced my eyes to shut down.
She isn’t safe out there, she’s alone blindness with her fear...,wait I stopped myself questioning my quick assumptions, why I am calling her "weak"? I have no right to mark her with this soft adjective. She’s with no doubt stronger than me and from most of those people that stood their in the parking looking at her. The taxes were felling up quickly, time was running like a crazy fool and I was standing their in the wind looking at her in fear and shame. I could helped her I could asked her if she needs help! But I was afraid not from her but from the cold eyes that were throwing stones at both of us.
Back in the corner a taxi driver maybe in his forties saw her struggling to find her way away from those people, he was better than me in a million times he didn’t care for the cold eyes or for the evil voices he just ran to rescue her. I felt like a heavy burden was pushed away from my shoulders, I took a deep traitorous breath and climbed in the empty seat.
I thought that I will not see her twice in the same today, but I was wrong, she was just in front of me walking with her shiny stick. She passed the guards and the west gate following the student’s rapid steps. After three meters from the gate a strange girl blocked her way and instead of helping her or at least apologize she screamed literally in her face! Saying in slang Arabic “Fathi” it means (look where you are going). How rude she was to say that, but what inspired me is the simple, strong response of the girl with the shiny stick, she said in a voice close to whispering “Sorry”.
I hated myself more and more, I still at the morning and I already hated myself for hundred times! The bigger problem was that I didn’t learn from the taxi driver and kept looking but not doing anything.The following scene was awful, all the students were walking on the left side of the parking lot inside the campus leaving a very huge empty area with only a white old car parked alone in the middle of that space,and the girl was following her stick walking in that empty space alone. At first she run into that car, some giggling were rising in the air and then she hit into a wall. That scene was physically and emotionally painful. I didn't join her in that empty space, I was with the crew in the active section of that park! Following like a blind sheep the invisible Shepard that is in fact the stereotypes and the public image!!
At the end she found her way, she was walking faster than me heading to the Art building with the black bag on her back and the shiny guardian stick in her right. And I found out that I was the blind one.
by Emile Saba
