“We had said goodbye to life, we didn’t think anyone knew we were there.” RIP
Americans have seen many bad Arabs and Muslims; the evening news has been fixated on the misbehaving ones. Time for Americans to meet my brother Abdelrafea, known as sheikh Obed, a name he earned for being the only brother out of seven who went to the (Kottab) religion school in the village, as a four-year-old. the adventure lasted one day. “The Imam held a big stick,” he explained. My brother had just passed away, I promised sheikh Obed, one day Ill tell your story to the American people. I’m not sure they would be interested in my story. I’ll let you be the judge. This is a story of a man whom I loved and adored all my life, he was a man full of kindness and honesty. My brother was born over a year before me; he came after four brothers and one sister. His birth was at home, and it went smooth; it didn’t make much news in the village, they told me. He was a curious child, always moving, experiencing his surroundings. As a youngster, he was slow talking, so he didn’t say much, he let his hands do the talking, using them a lot in speaking and in settling a few street fights. He never started a fight but he was quick to end them. He didn’t join village young gangsters, stealing fruits and vegetables from farmers, he worked with them in the fields, he never played soccer, but he came to all my games; he was my biggest fan. He thought the world of me, looking after me. When I went back to Egypt to look for a job, sheikh Obed
