Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event...

I shall now copy the works 2 at a time an network where I live is very uncooperative
Ihope people do NOT just peep and go.....please comment on
the event
the topics
the writers
These writers are here for help...
Critics invited and Literary evaluaters and all interested in writing
***********************************************************************************Asha Musa
FIRST PRIZE WINNER

Sara Abdelrahman Elhaj Albasheer
The Ninth Bomb

I held my little brother’s body closer to mine as the ear-splitting thunder of the bombs invaded our ears. In my best attempt to make it better for him, I sacrificed my own ears to cover his with my nimble hands. What little two year old boy should have to go through this at such a young age?
My parents sat close to us, staring intently at each other with fearful looks in their eyes. From when I was a young age, they had always promised to keep our family safe no matter the situation. Now, their faces read that they were doubtful.
It was the year 2005 and we were amidst the Palestinian bombings. The first ever bombing from Israel on Palestine had happened over fifty years ago and was still going on today. Every day getting worse than the other. Israel had a plan and one plan only; to kill all Palestinians so they could get their precious Jerusalem.
Another bomb dropped.
The sound of it hitting the ground immensely startled my brother Ahmed, causing him to start sobbing. Trying to comfort him, I rubbed my hand in circular motions around his back and lay his head on my chest. Also crying with him was my mother. Her head lay on my father’s shoulder with her sobs muffled by his blue shirt. His eyes were emotionless. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling at all. Blankly, he stared at the opposite concrete wall which was only a mere few meters away.
It did slightly anger me that they should be comforting my brother, not me. I was fine and could take care of myself; after all, I was turning sixteen this year. They were meant to be the strong ones at that exact time, reassuring us that everything was going to be fine. Instead, they stayed quiet and did nothing to help us. Why were they acting like the children whilst I was acting like the grown up? I rolled my eyes at the irony.
By this time, Ahmed had stopped crying but a few sniffles still came out of his nose. I closed my hands tighter around his ear, making sure I wouldn’t loosen up, learning the consequences of doing that last time.
Seventh bomb dropped.
It sounded like they were getting closer with every crash we heard. It wouldn’t be long until one of them would finally reach us. What would happen? Would our house get ruined? Where would we live?
Eighth bomb dropped.
It was getting closer.
My heart started thumping as if it was going to jump out of my chest. This next bomb was going to ruin everything. My body became tense and my breathing started to become irregular. Anytime now.
My mother’s cries became worse. She knew it too. Everything was going to go downhill after this one hit.
Ten seconds passed. Nothing.
The tension was killing me. I wanted it to be over and done with. I turned around to look at my mother and father. They exchanged confused glances. My father nodded his head towards the stairs and my mother agreed in return. They got up before turning their to me and Ahmed.
“Lina, stay here with Ahmed. Me and your mother are going to check if they have left,” My father ordered sternly. “Stay put.”
I nodded hurriedly. He took my mother’s hand and led her up the dirty, concrete stairs. I pulled my hands away from Ahmed’s head, causing him to look up at me and give me a toothy grin. I smiled at how innocent and oblivious he was to what was going on around him.
“Lina,” He said. “Play.”
“No Ahmed, not now.”
“Play.” He dragged.
“Ahmed, I said no.” He looked up at me with big brown eyes, which were starting to well up with tears. His bottom lip stuck out. To prevent him from crying, I started singing a nursery rhyme which he loved. His frown soon enough turned into a smile along with his small claps.
It’s amazing how the atmosphere of one place can change in a split second.
Ahmed’s giggles turned into cries. My quiet voice turned into screams. Our lives turned into hell.
The ninth bomb had dropped.
My parents were still upstairs. As fast as I could - not caring about the consequences – I hoisted Ahmed up on my hip and bolted up the stairs into my house. If you could even call it that anymore.
As soon as I went upstairs, I was hit by the orange dust in the air which was starting to occupy my lungs. To protect Ahmed, I nuzzled his face in my shoulder. My parents were nowhere to be seen behind the dust. The place I had once called home turned into rubble on the floor.
I walked hurriedly forward in a desperate search to find my parents. I was walking so fast that I had managed to trip up over something and find myself on the floor with Ahmed. I turned around to investigate what exactly had made me fall over and why it was so big.
I was shocked. My world had come crashing down in a matter of ten minutes- completely.
The thing that had caused me to trip over was two specific motionless bodies:
My parents.

By Sara Elbashir.




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SECOND PRIZE WINNER


Déjà vu
Makkawi Atif Makkawi

"Believe you can and you're half way there."
-Theodore Roosevelt


"Next up Makkawi Atif Makkawi!" Those words sounded like sharp nails on a chalkboard to me. I was as if my life force began to slip away into the dark abyss that was my fear of public speaking.

Suddenly, everything changed. My confidence took a 180-degree turn and I felt powerful, that nothing can faze me. It was as if light from the heavens shined down upon me, charging up my low self-esteem. I shot up out of my seat, walked to the podium, and began speaking. My voice was booming yet unequivocal and clear. My posture was sturdy yet flexible. Everything went well and ended well.

I was the final contestant, so after I finished my speech, the judges gave us a break to go outside while they were determining the top three winners. After 15 minutes, we were called back. After we all sat down, dead silence filled the atmosphere, so silent one could probably hear each individual's heart racing, anxious to know the results of the speech contest.

After minutes of agonizing anxiety, the judges finally declared the winners. "In third place...in second place...and in first place MAKKAWI ATIF MAKKAWI!"

At first, I questioned myself. Did I hear that correctly? Was my hearing declining? Did my low self esteem return and distort the words I heard to protect my fragile confidence from complete annihilation? Apparently not; it was true. I leaped out of my chair and walked towards the podium, but this time to accept my gold medal, and to finally conquer my fear of public speaking, the one thing I dreaded up until that very moment. From then on, public speaking was a cinch. Suddenly I heard a buzzing sound.

Then I woke up...

My alarm clock was ringing! It was all a dream! I didn't win anything! I still didn't even deliver my speech, which I now realized was tomorrow! Then all sense of hope and confidence I had in my dream began disintegrating within me. Slowly I felt my self-esteem plummet as if it were blood sugar. Then I got up to get ready for school.

The day proceeded like normal. When I came back home, I had a quick snack, and did my homework. Then I had nothing to do but be anxious about my most dreaded fear and having to face it in less than twenty-four hours. Suddenly, I got this strange feeling about my speech. I took one more look at my speech and completely hated it! It was not like the speech I dreamed of, it was not like the winning speech I gave while sleeping. I took the papers, crumbled them up, tossed them out, took out my computer, and began typing.

In the back of my mind, a part of me was yelling at the rest of my brain for doing something so stupid, yet I carried on with writing my new speech. Even though I continued, I knew that the back of my mind was right; it was stupid to destroy my only copy of my first speech and start writing a new one at eight o'clock in the evening considering the speech contest was tomorrow evening. How will I memorize it in time? How will I perfect the timing of the speech to stay within the time limit? Who will revise it with me to perfect the writing? All these questions and more raced through my mind, yet my fingers kept on typing. I didn't know how I was able to write my new speech while my mind was racing through thousands of other questions but miraculously, my speech was finished. I clicked save, printed it and looked at the clock to see that it was one o'clock in the morning. I quickly threw my papers into my backpack and went to sleep. I placed my head down on my pillow and I was snoring instantly.

The next morning I got up and went to school. After I returned home, I didn't have time to even look at my new speech because of the truckload of homework that I had. The time I was typing it last night was the only time I even took a look at it. Strangely enough, I wasn't the slightest bit worried about not revising my speech or attempting to memorize it so that I can make more eye contact with the audience during the speech. After finishing my homework, I had to get ready for the speech. I put on my new suit and tie and I headed towards the school with one thing in mind: gold.

I guess that in a way, the dream I had of winning first place in the speech contest helped me. Though I woke up completely crushed that I didn't actually win first place, the dream gave me confidence prior to the real deal. I went into the classroom with the confidence of a king, but not the arrogance. I was calm, collected, and ready to speak.

Then, the déjà vu occurred...

"Next up Makkawi Atif Makkawi!" but this time, everything went well. I was calm and collected and everything went smoothly. I got up, walked to the podium, and began to speak. Surprisingly, I had the speech memorized and didn't even need the papers in front of me. This was because the new speech I wrote wasn't just like an essay that we would have to write in class against our will, it was a translation of my thoughts into ink on parchment, so I spoke from my mind, not my paper. This was easier for me because my topic was something significant and important to me. It was about my trip to Sudan and all the horrific social injustice I saw over there and what I plan to do in the future with my education to contribute to solving all the problems that I witnessed just over a two-month summer vacation. After I was done, everyone applauded, I sat down, and the next student went up to the podium. After we were all done, the judges excused us for a fifteen-minute break while they determine the winners. I was really nervous because all the contestants gave wonderful and powerful speeches, which made me doubt my own. After the break was over we all went back to the class, anxiously. The room was dead silent, so silent one could probably hear the sound of a butterfly's wings beating. I looked around the room and I found one thing that comforted me a little bit, the fact that everyone else was just as anxious, that I wasn't alone. Then the first judge cleared her throat to break the silence and began to speak. In third place...in second place...and..... (I knew that I wouldn't have won first place if the other two won third and second, so I thought about just leaving before they announce first place, but I stayed anyways, and it was a good thing that I did)...in first place, MAKKAWI ATIF MAKKAWI!

Only one thought went through my mind at that moment, "Déjà vu." And then a huge smile appeared on my face, I got up, and walked to the podium to accept my award.

If there is one thing I want people to learn from my simple yet crazy experience is that dreams do come true, be it metaphorically or literally (like in my case). Though that last statement may have sounded very cliché, I think a little dose of cliché is what this world needs in this moment of time. I have been noticing in both school and my community (and I'm sure in the rest of the world) that there has been an overwhelming amount of cynicism and pessimism amongst kids, young adults, and adults alike that prevent them from unlocking their true potential and achieving greater things in there lifetimes. It is these feelings that have overcome individuals everywhere and made them aim for lower goals and barely try. I believe that in order for this world to become a better place for all, people need to realize that though many statements like "Dreams can come true" and "Believe in yourself" sound very cheesy, they are true. They become fake and pointless only if one makes them so. People need to go back to the time in their childhood when they wanted to be the president, a soccer player, a doctor, and an engineer all at once because even if some of those things may seem out of reach, the good thing is that they learn to aim high, and when that mentality becomes present and they grow up to realize their true goal, it becomes achievable because the cynicism and pessimism no longer exist amongst them; then their vision becomes clearer and they become the best scientist, doctors, engineers, and leaders this world has ever seen.

Arabic Forum