Moving scenes -2014 by Abdul-Aziz Ali Omer

It was Friday, 19th, December -2014 and that date coincided with `9th, December, 1956. On that day, the National Umma Party represented in Member of Parliament, Mr. AbdulRahman Dabaka proposed the motion of self-rule to Sudan. His motion of autonomy to Sudan was seconded by another MP named Mashawar Juma from the Democratic Union Party. In my two-day respite to watch the festivals of Independence this year, I had a good time to ponder over the peaceful and mighty deliberations and parlays of Graduate Congress which is the voice of Sudanese educated class and the first cry of freedom. Freedom of expression and destiny. Our message to brothers in Sudan: Cease fire! Stop this madness! I am delighted to hear that the New Year will see the compensation of people of Halfaya who lost their lands. In the cutting of Nespapers that I keep at home, I see them praying for the reclaim of their lands taken by investors. At last, their voices for redress seem to have been heard.
In December, 2014, a Sudanese investigative journalist visited Mygoma House for looking after children with un-identified parents. It was a touching gesture. One of nannies, the women raising infants denied her entry because the kids had baby’s teething problems and stomach-upsets. She left them in peace.
Never forget that in Novermber, 2014, Al-jazeera T.v channel showed the saddest event of the year: A Palestinian driver’s face that bore the remarks of torture and suffering. On the other side, appeared his colleagues from the syndicate of bus drivers on a condolence visit to his family. Their faces were haunted by deep grief and fear of un-known.















Don’t deprive us from happiness, Gentlemen.

A presidential decree was issued in the wake of signing peace agreement of Eastern Sudan including a list of constitutional jobs. My uncle's share, Mr. Al-amin Al-hajj was being appointed Galla Nahal commisioner.Ididn't congratulate him not because of an enmity or envy but I was desperate to get work by merit not by blood. I frequented the premises of Civil Service Selection Committee that subjected me to series of interviews from which I knew a lot about patience. My family and friends scolded me for being oblivious to my uncle to act as an intermediary in finding a job.
His private impressive car was parked at the door at the door of our humble home. I left with my uncle' driver and his escort in a journey that took more than six hours because we had to wait for the reception of the minister of the interior in the Airport of Gedaref.We arrived at Galla Nahal in the dark. With refreshing breezes that followed a storm, I surrendered to a heavy sleep. I woke up next day to take a cup of tea. “my brother's son and interpreter" my uncle said in Arabic to one of his subordinates who indicated to remains of building at a prominent place to introduce as a part of history. Latter on crumbling brick structures meant no more than the sad and true decline of civil service.
My uncle took me a side to direct his questions at the members of U.N.D.P delegation. Then, we headed for the rural council chamber where I helped as an interpreter a Spanish lady.
My uncle didn't pay me the ticket fare as it is the Sudanese custom. He told me there was a vacancy number and he would facilitate the measures. Not long after that ,I received from one of interview committee members commendation and following the release of results ,I picked up my letter of appointment to education office.
On instruction from commissioner’s office, one of security personell came to our school to confirm my safe arrival. I met him after a month a gain to ask me end a hunger-strike. It was a fun idea among my colleagues but it had been taken seriously. The executive officer paid money to the school principle to buy meat, vegetable and fruits. Much of this bounty found its way for the first time in years to the teacher’s mess.
3 years later, my uncle was relieved from his responsibilities without exploiting him to help with my transfer. That is never stupidity. I detest nepotism.
Now, after 6 years of obvious sacrifices I made like one of many teachers, I send a letter to education director to present my demand of getting transferred from dismal Galla Nahal to the municipality of Gedaref. In my letter, I cited the psychological factor, the close support of aged mother and my various tours as primary school teachers as reason for replacement in Gedaref. Particularly, after I have begun to see a glimmer of hope in the whisper of an education official who expressed his readiness to welcome me into their schools. I am interested in modern technology which is inaccessible in remote villages. So I addressed education officials in our locality: please gentlemen don't deprive of happiness, the happiness of new good learning experiences. Maxim Gorky, the Russian writer described work as prayer to future. I prayed until all candles melt in Galla Nahal. I want to pray in Gedaref

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