Diary of a Hundred Men

"Come on, goods, morning sustenance, come on!" Samia shouts in her slightly hoarse voice, pulling her wooden cart loaded with various types of plastic kitchen utensils through the narrow alleys of the neighborhood. The sun sends its first golden rays, announcing the start of a new day, another day of struggle for a living.

Samia, a woman in her early forties, has wrinkles etched on her kind face, but her eyes still retain an unquenchable sparkle, a sparkle of determination and defiance. Since her husband's tragic death in an accident five years ago, Samia has been the sole breadwinner for her family, a mother and father to three children: Ahmed, in his second year of high school; Heba, in her first year of middle school; and little Omar, who is not yet eight years old.

Samia stops in front of one of the houses and calls out to the woman of the house, who is looking out from her balcony: "Hey, Hani's mom, the tableware set you ordered has arrived. The colors are beautiful." Samia glances around and notices Mahmoud, a young man in his twenties, sitting on the doorstep of one of the houses, his hand on his cheek, his face showing signs of distress. Samia approaches him with her cart and looks at him sympathetically. "Good morning, son. Why are you so sad?"

Mahmoud raises his head and looks at Samia with dull eyes. "Good morning, ma'am. Nothing new, same old, same old." Samia immediately understands what the young man is suffering from: unemployment, the monster that devours the dreams of young people in this neighborhood. "May God relieve you, my son. Don't despair. Every delay has a silver lining."

Mahmoud tries to force a faint smile onto his lips. "Yes, God willing, but I'm tired, Hajja. No job, no marriage, nothing." "Work will come, a wife will come, everything in its own time, Mahmoud. Keep trying and working hard, and God will not let your efforts go to waste," says Samia, patting him affectionately on the shoulder.

Samia continues her rounds, calling out her wares, haggling with customers, laughing with some, and comforting others. Samia loves her work because it makes her feel valuable and gives her hope for a better tomorrow. She remembers her early days in this profession, when she felt shy and confused, but she quickly learned the art of buying and selling and became the "best" saleswoman in the area.

Samia arrives at the stall of Hajj Salem, the old man who is the memory of the neighborhood. Samia feels comfortable when she sees him. She greets him, sits next to him on a small wooden chair, takes two loaves of bread and a bag of beans out of her bag, and shares her breakfast with him.

"How are you, my dear?" Hajj Salem asks her in his calm voice. "Praise be to God, Hajj, I'm fine. How are you? How's your health today?" Samia replies as she hands him a loaf of bread. "Praise be to God, we are living by your prayers. Life is difficult, Samia, but we have great hope in God."

Samia sighs, "Indeed, Hajj, hope in God is what keeps us going." Hajj Salem takes a sip of tea and looks at Samia with wise eyes. "You are worth a thousand men, Samia. May God protect you and give you strength." Samia smiles. "May God protect you, Hajj. You are a source of goodness and blessing."

They finish their breakfast in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but their presence together gives them a sense of peace and reassurance.

Meanwhile, Fatima, the seventeen-year-old girl, wakes up to her mother's voice: "Get up, dear, it's 10 o'clock. Hurry up so you can get to your classes." Fatima yawns, trying to resist her desire to go back to sleep, but her mother's sharp voice forces her to get up.

"Yes, Mom, I'm up." Fatima rushes to the bathroom, washes her face, combs her long black hair, looks at herself in the mirror, and notices her natural beauty, but it is a beauty mixed with anxiety. Fatima dreams of going to medical school, but her dream clashes with her family's desire to marry her off early, especially since she is their only daughter.

Fatima breaks her fast with her family, trying to avoid talking about marriage, focusing on her lessons and exams, but her mother's expectant gaze makes her feel pressured. Fatima finishes her breakfast quickly, says goodbye to her family, rushes out into the street, and tries to distract herself, focusing on her goal: medical school, the dream she is fighting for.

As Fatima leaves the house, she bumps into Mahmoud, who was walking absent-mindedly. The medical book she was carrying falls from her hand. Mahmoud bends down to pick it up. Fatima looks at him, feeling his gaze piercing her, her heart beating faster. Mahmoud smiles and hands her the book. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Fatima replies in a confused voice, "It's okay, no problem." They exchange a long look, a look that resembles the beginning of a new story, a story that could change the course of both their lives. Fatima hurries away, trying to hide her confusion, while Mahmoud stands watching her walk away, thinking about those beautiful eyes that captivated him from the first glance.