Mother is the birth and earth by Abdulaziz Ali omer

last Saturday, evening’s tears came with no sound to my eyes .I watched anxiously a young blindfolded and bound snatched man He was driven across the desert for bartering or exchanging with a handful of Dollars. The young man found no avenue but facing death to a void the high ransom that leaves his family homeless.The rare scene of sacrifice emphacizes the dualty of human being.As I reflect on one of the gangsters who abducted him , in his outer-appearnce, he was harsh and followed the rule to the letter.In their absence, he expressed his refusal of human exploitation. We have seen wonderful and happy emotions pouring with the water he had given to the captive. The trapped and tied young man drank his fill of water, then said “Thank you” and smiled. We have seen a brotherly love. It has spilled as heavy as the un-salvaged remenants of blood gushing from bullet-caused wound as he distanced the victim from the greedy clutches of smugglers. From the Sudan T.v channel that showed a bleeding driver for the return of son to his mother,I moved on to M.BC. an Arab T.V channel to follow another similar story .
inShirah is a Sudanese girl at the age of 12,a budding beauty arrested a Saudian man who married her off and then divorced. She went back to living in Sudan, her African river –side country. She was un-able to return her self to Saudia. She left behind her a beautiful child named Abdullah Khojali. He was raised by his grandmother. He eventually became a prominent football player. He thought his mother was dead. He never set eyes on her for 3 decades. Abdullah Khojali lives in a simple house adorned with an ivy and an old framed picture of his mother. In retrospect, he says to him self:’That picture. You have seena million times. You see her in it. You see her past. You see the pain of growing”.
One morning, his grandmother his right -hand woman appeared .He greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. She sat on on side of him and smiled to soothe his resentment. I know you want to tell me some thing important. What is it? He asked.
“your mother is a live and living in Sudan. Abdullah’s eyes filled with tears. “My mother is alive and living in Sudan? “Yes” “Are you sure?” “Yes” his grandmother answered. From that morning , Abdulllah was willing to find his mother.However, his tenuous attempts didn’t go un-impeded.First, an accident hampered his travel to re-unite with his mother.Then, he was compelled to sell his car because he had fallen on impecunious times.
The kind fate made M.B.C T.V channel aware of his personal plight.One night , he was invited to share with the Arab audiences his heart-felt concerns. Something he didn’t identify as it turned out was that the M.B.C T.V channel arranged for a surprise re-union between him and his mother. His mother was there behind the studio cubicle after she regained a healthy colour in the wake of a heart surgery. He seemed he was taken a back by the un-expected entrance upon him. Son and mother embraced. Both of them were crying. Their re-union was moving. We are fighting each other in Sudan,Iraq,Syria and elsewhere. We need more than luscoius feel of power and flesh, honest sentiments like the one generated by an attachment to mother. Mother is the birth. Mother is the earth, my miserable sons.