Kiya's Crimson Call

"She's not gonna last much longer."

I look around the small, dusty room and see nothing but my mother’s gaunt face staring back at me. Her once vibrant green eyes have lost their shine, but I can still see the fight in them.

“You think I don’t know that? Look around you, there’s barely enough food to feed us all, let alone medicine and clean water. You think it brings me joy to watch as my mother wastes away before my very eyes?”

My brother shrugs his shoulders and goes back to staring out the window. He doesn’t care about our mother anymore than he cares about our circumstances. The only thing he cares about is my sister, and how she is going to be his ticket out of this hellhole we call home. But I won’t let that happen. Not on my watch. She is too young to be handed over to some man just because we want a better life. We need to earn it for her. I will do whatever it takes to make sure she has a bright future, even if it means using the one thing I swore I would never use for myself.

I walk over to the small mirror that hangs above the table next to our bed and stare into it. My reflection shows a different person than what is inside of me. A soft beauty with skin like porcelain and soft curls framing the side of my face that gently flows down my back. My lips are full and red, plump enough to make any man fantasize about kissing them, while my eyes are dark brown, shining brighter than anyone else's in the village could ever hope for theirs to shine.

But as beautiful as I am on the outside...it's nothing compared to what's inside of me - my mind, body, heart and soul.

"Is this what you're going to wear?" He asks, pointing at the small ragged dress I wear day in and day out without question or complaint. "You're not going anywhere looking like that." He says with a snicker before turning back towards the window and staring out into the distance watching for anyone who might be able to help him gain access into their home so he can steal away my sister under their noses in the middle of night just like he did with me all those years ago.

I don't say anything back; instead, I turn from him and walk towards my mother's bedside where she lays quietly listening to our conversation with glazed eyes as she mumbles incoherently trying desperately to express her concerns for our survival and wishes for us to escape this horrible situation before she passes away.

It is getting increasingly difficult to understand her faint whispers, as her strength continues to deteriorate. Sami and I have to strain our ears to catch every fragile word uttered amidst her continuous coughs and labored breathing. Her delirious state exacerbates her feeble attempt at communication, causing her to drift between reality and dreams of hope intertwined with memories of better days when the government had the welfare of its people at heart.

The grip of poverty has tightened around us, leaving the vulnerable at the mercy of the wealthy, who hoard life-saving medicines and resources for themselves. The common people are left with no other choice but to resort to desperate measures, even slavery, as they witness their loved ones succumb to illnesses that could have been treated if only they could afford it. Generations before us suffered at the hands of oppressors who exploited them for personal gain and left them languishing in pain and poverty.

Over the course of history, Egypt has witnessed countless rulers and undergone numerous revolutions. However, its people remain resilient in their fight against tyranny. Peaceful protests often escalate into violent confrontations with oppressive dictators. The never-ending struggle for freedom and equality bears heavy on our shoulders. In these dire times, we must continue to gather support from those who empathize with our cause, finding strength in joining together against the looming oppressors that hinder the progress of our society.