Out of Egypt and home again

Nick: “I was Head of  Primary for a British International School and we lived on the outskirts of Cairo which has a population of around 20 million people. Egypt in total has around 80 million people.

For thirty years the President of Egypt, Hosni Mubarak, and his family had held the balance of power in a country that had high unemployment, millions of people living below the poverty line, and an underlying discontent and tension between the Muslim and Coptic Christians. But overall Egypt had been a safe place to live and to travel.”

Change was coming

In early 2011 some countries throughout the Middle East were discovering the “power of the people” and using the influence of many voices to lead a time of change. Many Egyptians had grown tired of the divide between the classes in Egypt where the rich were extremely wealthy and others struggled to eke out an existence. Through social media and through anti-government media outlets, word spread that the voice of many could indeed make a difference to the rule of law in Egypt. A ‘Million Man March’ was planned through the streets of Cairo demanding that there be changes to the way things were. One of the catalysts for this was the price of bread increasing to a point where many could no longer easily afford this staple of their diets. As time ticked toward the planned march of millions, protests started to spring up around the city. School buses and cars were being stopped and it was decided that we would close school for a few days until things settled down.

Revolution

On January 25th, 2011 members of the public gathered in Tahrir Square in Central Cairo. It was estimated that close to 200,000 people were gathered. The crowds were incensed with what was happening and they pushed past police barricades to enter the Cairo Museum. They set fire to the Egyptian Ministry building nearby. The police, who were paid a very miserly wage decided that they had had enough and walked off the job, as did the prison guards. This meant that many prisoners simply walked free from their cells.

For some time on January 26th until the army stepped in about 3-4 days later there was virtually enforcement of law. The government decided that they would wait out the protestors and, according to many, they did little in an attempt to be proactive. The only thing they did do was block mobile phone coverage and access to the internet. This meant that access to ATMs and banks was unavailable, the news was only received via landlines from overseas, and shops began to run low on supplies of food and water as deliveries ceased and petrol stations closed. The country virtually came to a standstill.

What was happening?

It was concerning that we could not get any information on the internet and we had to watch local news channels to try and decipher what was happening around us. Images came of looters and fires throughout Cairo and the phone rang without a break- teachers from school were checking in and seeking reassurance about the mobs outside and the gunshots they could hear. Our kids gradually grew bored or the drama and headed off downstairs to play downball. It was only when they heard that our local shopping mall, Carrefour, and the Cinnabon shop, in particular, had been looted and burnt, that they took some interest. We really did think that all of it would blow over quickly and things would return to normal. However, the discontent of the Egyptian population had been simmering for a long time and their resolve was to go the distance. Many expats were attempting to get out of the country due to the political instability and the airport was crammed with tens of thousands of people trying to catch planes overseas.

The army arrives

On the 29th of January, the government imposed a curfew of 8 pm. The following day the curfew was moved to 6 pm and then to 3 pm the next day. The army moved into local neighbourhoods, and within 5 blocks of where we lived, there were at least 10 fully armoured tanks. Vigilante groups were formed to stop looters and there was a definite feeling of tension in the country, even out in the suburbs where we lived.

Helping hands

A man lived under the house next door in an unfinished basement with no walls, running water, or electricity. We paid him about $30 a month to water our plants wash our car and to keep an eye on our house when we were travelling. His name was Ramadan and he was what we called a ‘boab’. He could not speak a word of English and our Arabic was limited, so communication was very difficult, although after 3 years we both became experts at charades. Ramadan was not a political man nor did he take part in the protests, but for 4 nights and four days he and some other boabs from the area watched over our house and our family and other houses in the area. They didn’t sleep and I’m certain that they would have laid down their lives to protect us. The money we had been paying suddenly seemed so insignificant and meaningless when this man stood vigil outside our gate to prevent looters and thieves from entering. Our Egyptian neighbours had all left by this stage, except for some die-hard locals, one of which had 3 children around the same age as ours. They were all armed with sledgehammers, mace, a taser, and a pump-action BB gun, and they also sat out at night, drinking tea and protecting the area.

The school closes

The administrators at the school had decided to close it for an indefinite time and when the kids found empty bullet casings in the swimming pool this seemed like a reasonable decision. We tried to get flights for all our staff so they could leave Cairo but this proved to be an impossible task given the lack of access to money/power and the frenetic scenes at the airport. It was decided to evacuate all staff and their families to the beach resort of Hurghada. We advised staff to follow their consulate advice. The staff at school was made up of Dutch teachers who were given access to a KLM flight to the Netherlands; British teachers who were told to leave Cairo if they could, but no assistance would be provided to them. The Australian government put on a mercy flight through Qantas Airways, which would stop in Frankfurt and then return to Sydney if we wanted. The New Zealand staff were told that there was nothing to worry about and they should just stay in their houses in Cairo.

Stay or go?

We were debating whether to go with the rest of the staff to Hurghada or to take the mercy flight with the Australian Government. We had piles of clothes everywhere and had to think about what to take in case our villa was burnt to the ground while we were gone. In the end, we decided to make sure our photos and tax documents were our priority. Our decision was made easier for us when I was sitting on the couch watching the Arabic news and Paula came running down the hallway shouting, ‘They’re coming, they’re coming’. Our apartment was on the third floor and we had 8-foot gates at the front. Paula had barricaded the internal door, like a scene from Les Miserables, so I didn’t think we were in any danger. That was until I looked over the balcony at the front of our house to see about 100 angry men brandishing sticks, bottles, rocks, and anything else they could get their hands on running down the street directly toward our front gate. This was troubling, but even more so was the deafening noise of the massive tank that was following, with its gun turret pointed directly at Paula who had moved in front of me to act as a human shield. At this moment I actually feared for my life and for what seemed like an eternity we waited for the follow-up, whatever it may be. As I dared to look again the noise seemed like it was going away and much to our relief, the boabs and the tank took a left turn and went down our street to find some looters who were in our neighbourhood.

Decision made

We decided to take the Australian flight the following morning and leave Cairo. We said our goodbyes to our Boab and to a friend Paula had made who lived under our local mall. We gave them some food and cash and they both cried and hugged us and we felt like rats leaving a sinking ship.

Leaving Egypt

As we travelled to the airport we saw tanks on almost every corner. The Australian consulate workers were incredible. They flew in from all over the region to help out. They processed us all in the ballroom of the Novatel Hotel and provided snacks, tea, and coffee. When Paula saw the airplane with the red kangaroo on its tail through the crowds of people, and the flight attendant said, ‘Welcome home’, she shed a few tears. I shed a few with happiness when they asked if I wanted a ‘James Squire’ beer. We left with 7 kgs of luggage each and at that time we did not know if or when we would return to Cairo or indeed see any of our friends again.

The new government

The Egyptian people were now calling for the resignation of Mubarak and a completely new government to take the place of the current one. The resolve of the people was incredible and eventually, they forced Mubarak and his associates to resign from their positions. The agreement was made for a new government to be elected by the people, for the first time ever.

We returned to school after 3 weeks when it was deemed safe to come back as the army and the people were working together to hold democratic elections.

Life after Mubarak is overthrown

Paula writes –

• I decide what to do on a Saturday morning – go for a walk on the field at school or go for a drive with Nick and the head of security who is armed with a 12-inch hunting knife to look at the 400-odd mob who is gathering in preparation for the interior minister’s trial in the courthouse which is located behind the school.
• I can’t go to my physio appointment as a policeman has shot a minibus driver who has cut him off, and the crowd beats him and sets fire to his van. When I tell this to my son, he just shrugs as though it happens every day.
• A friend of ours narrowly misses a tank when she is driving home at night, as they don’t have reflector lights and she had far too much to drink!
• I take my class for an excursion to the local supermarket, with guards accompanying us, and pass an armored vehicle that has been parked on the corner for a few months. The kids don’t even mention it.
• I see the workers at school being given a talk on self-defense and using whistles and baseball bats for protection.
• As we drive off the ring road we are confronted with a tank whose guns are pointing straight at us, and we hope that someone doesn’t fall asleep and accidentally press the wrong button.
• More teachers at school are affected by crime- being groped, flashed, followed, and in one case, robbed at screw-driver point in a taxi.
• The name of our school has been hidden and the Egyptian flag placed in a prominent position.
• Egyptian flags are everywhere. The streets are cleaner. Students are painting road markings and directing traffic wherever there is still no police presence. People feel ownership of their country now. Everyone calls out, ‘Welcome to Egypt”.
• Gunfire is still occasionally heard at night. Non-essential staff are being paid to leave the school. 24 children will not return to school.
• Mubarak is either in Saudi or Sharm El-Sheik, and is either well and under arrest, or in hospital suffering from bowel and /or pancreatic cancer. Stories run wild!
• Some government schools are still not open, especially the one fired on by a tank as prisoners had run in there to escape.
• Our Carrefour shopping center is still not opened after being looted.

Going home

Nick: It was with mixed emotions that we left Egypt finally,  5 months after the revolution, to take over the running of Search Associates as planned, back in Tasmania. We were excited about the change of career but wanted to stay and support our friends.

As you’re reading this, your life’s getting shorter. It’s ticking away. I’m not saying this to frighten you. Or even scare you. Though it may. I’m saying this to awaken you. To inspire you. To rise you out of your deep slumber. To really know you won’t live forever. To share your unique gifts. To ignite your great inner fire. To ignite your great inner strength. To ignite your great inner light. To shine. Brightly shine. To awaken your great inner beauty. To motivate. Yourself and others. To paint. To write. To teach. To innovate. To sing. To dance. To care. To feel. To listen. To learn. To laugh. The clocks ticking. The world needs you. Make your move.

Mike Litman 2005