Days and books

Author's name: Ahmed Al-Haqil

I'll never forget Noura's look when she walked into my library, which hadn't been long. She found me standing in front of the TV watching a decisive penalty kick in one of Al-Nassr's matches. She was about to speak, but suddenly, the corner of her eye caught a row of the book "Al-Wafi bil-Wafiyat," the German Institute edition, which took up an entire shelf in 33 volumes, each one bigger than your fist. She stared at her incredulously, then looked back at me, standing in front of the TV, the commentator shouting, "Goal, goal, goal." Then she asked, pointing her relaxed index finger at the shelf, as if enjoying a strange sight, as if she were looking at a strange-looking animal at a zoo, "What is this?" I said cautiously, from which you could unfortunately discern my shyness and lack of confidence in justifying my confusing hobby: "A book of biographies." She lowered her head as if to catch the obscure words that had hit the brakes before her ears: "Whose biographies?" The commentator shouted, "Her sheep is in the goal's throat, it can neither block nor respond. Wow!" I shrugged with the same retreating caution: “Writers, notables, and hadith scholars,” and added, betraying the growing shrinkage: “And people.” A moment of silence followed, then she shook her head and laughed to herself, waving her hand as she turned around: “Come on, just have dinner, come on.” And she left.

Asmaa Azaiza concludes her book with a final dream, from which she understands that her father is releasing her and asking her to live her life free from the questions of death that haunt him. Then he leaves her with a final dream, the secret of which she shares with the reader, who understands that she is pregnant, and that the sex of her fetus is a male child, who may in some way inherit from her father, and that in all her search to bring her father back to life, she has actually brought him back with the birth of his grandson. However, she concludes the book before bringing the reader to this final conclusion, leaving room for endless expectations.

We learn with Thiong'o the value of knowledge, which colonialism withheld from the Kenyan people. He tells us about the emergence of formal education and independent, rebellious schools in Kenya. His dream, which he promised his mother he would spare no effort to achieve, was to learn. But how can a child cling to his dream amidst the shadows of World War II and his family crises? This childhood memoir serves as Thiong'o's testimony in defense of his right to dream, at least, despite all the difficulties, and of his mother's significant role in his life, which has led him to become one of Africa's greatest writers worldwide.