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Discussion Board in English Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event...
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Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event...

12-27-2012, 09:36 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event...

    Now that we reached the aftermath stage of the third annual event of the Ghada Award for Young Writers,
    held in Friendship Hall Theatre in Khartoum, I would like to share with colleagues on this side of the
    board the winning stories and articles.
    Three contestants in the English competition and three Arabic Language contestants got the top prizes
    for their works.The next seven from each language also got encouraging rewards. The 170 Arabic young writers and the 44 English young writers (contestants) were celebrated by the full house auditory when those present, about 70+, marched around the theatre pouring down two aisles with pround parents, family and friends greeting them with shouts, and clapping and beautiful specially composed music leading them to the top of the theatre where they were ushered by their elder contestants to the front honourery seats.
    Of course, although I was seated on high chair as Director of the Award, I didn't see most of that scene clearly as I was blinded with my tear touched by the whole atmospheres!!(stupid old lady).

    Before copying the works, here are the lists of prize winners of Arabic and English :
                  

Arabic Forum

12-27-2012, 09:50 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    الدورة الثالثة 2012
    قائمة المشاركين باللغة الانجليزية Third Annual Contst GAFYW
    Winners>>>English

    Rank Mother name Contestant name Work Location
    1 ساره عبدالرحمن البشير الحاج /ماجده حسين صالح الشويه The Ninth Bomb UK
    2 مكاوى عاطف مكاوى /انعام محمد علي مساعد Déjà vu US
    3 الهام خالد محمود حافظ /سوسن حسن Losing the war Saudi Arabia
    4 ايفا أندرو تادروس سمعان /ماريا تادرس سمعان Aware Khartoum
    5 دنان وليد عصام الدين الاسد /مشاعر شريف سعيد How hope found me Khartoum
    6 مازن أسامه حافظ الشاذلى/ هاله عبدالله الحاج موسى Commitment Khartoum
    7 وارف خالد العبيد /رقيه عبيد على المنصورى Fallout Australia
    8 مصطفى الشيخ مصطفى الشيخ /أسماء محجوب عبدالعزيز The tale of the Sudanese Thawb Khartoim
    9 أمين عبدالله الامين الشيخ /نجوى محمود حافظ I’m a hero Khartoum
    10 يسرا حسين ابراهيم حامد سعديه محمد أحمد/ A Devilish Robot Khartoum

    Sorry...due to some copying problems mother's name appears before contestant's name (Teck illiteracy)

    (Edited by عائشة موسي السعيد on 12-27-2012, 09:55 AM)

                  

Arabic Forum

12-27-2012, 10:02 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
    الدورة الثالثة 2012
    قائمة المشاركين باللغة العربية

    الرقم الاسم اسم الوالده العمل البلد رقم الهاتف
    1 أسراء رفعت حسن القرشى /جميله عثمان حسين وقد غدت تلك العادة السعودية
    2 ملاذ عمر محمد خير أبوشلعه /احلام عبد الحي ابن عوف انا والحياة الجزيرة
    3 مناسك حاتم حسين الطاهر /رحمه مصطفى بحث وانتظار ... وعقل كوستى
    4 ساره أحمد عبدالرحمن النور /سوسن عبدالله النور الجيلى فيك ومنك يا بلادى قطر
    5 أمجد عبدالرحمن محمد عثمان /فائزة حسين الإمام لوحة القدر الخرطوم
    6 سناء محمد محجوب بابكر أرو /سوزان صلاح الدين التجانى علمتها الحياة الخرطوم
    7 معز محمد ابراهيم /حواء حمد ادم الطيب آل عمران الخرطوم
    8 نعيمه رشدى عبدالجواد /فاطمه خالد ابراهيم المطبعجى رياح وصباح الخرطوم
    9 الانسيه حسن محمد الماحى /علوية الطاهر قصة الجزيرة مدرسة شمس المعالى - الجزيره
    10 أسماء على حسن أوهاج /نجاة محمد أحمد المطر والغروب كسلا
                  

Arabic Forum

12-27-2012, 10:13 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    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.




    ****************
    ****************
    ****************







    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

12-27-2012, 05:01 PM
Raja
<aRaja
Registered: 05-19-2002
Total Posts: 16054





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Dear Aycha,
    This is great work, loved the commitment you and the rest put in this. Ghada's soul still with us. I believe body too.

    Congrats to our future heroes.

    Proud of you ALL.

    R
                  

Arabic Forum

12-27-2012, 09:33 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: Raja)

    Raja,
    Love your smile decorating the post!

    Thanx for your appreciation.

    It was a great event ... and it gets deeper and deeper every year...
    I can't help not being supportive to such cause!

    The young people's works are worthy of attention.
    Like Ghada, they are our bless in this dark world.

    Keep reading them please,
                  

Arabic Forum

12-27-2012, 09:41 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Losing the War
    Third Prize Winner…English
    Writer from Saudi Arabia:
    Ilham Khalid Mahmoud Hafiz

    Four words. That’s all it took to bring my world down. Who would have thought that the much dreaded disease might come knocking on my door?
    ‘I’m sorry ma’am… Your daughter has cancer!’ the doctor announced sadly.
    I stood there frozen in shock, as tears clouded my vision and rolled down my face. How could this happen to us? How could the sun, shine brightly when my daughter had cancer? What had I done to receive fates cruel plans? Why her, my innocent Angel?
    Earlier that day, when she wouldn’t eat lunch, I sent her off to bed without dessert. Instead of arguing as usual, my 4 year old daughter walked to the bathroom and didn’t reappear for a long time. I went to check up on her as a motherly instinct nagged me that something wasn’t right. To my horror I found her sobbing at a corner with vomit all over her.

    ‘What’s wrong Angel?’ I cried as I ran to her side.
    ‘Mommy, it hurts all over!’ she whispered as she fell into my arms. Unconscious.

    20 minutes later Angel was rushed into an emergency room. After 8 hours, multiple questions, and a dozen tests, I got the news that changed my life.

    Angel wasn’t your everyday 4 year old girl. She had goals that she was determined to accomplish. She was very stubborn and always got her own way. She walked up to random strangers and became friends with them. She ran around the park making sure she was friends with every other child. She was loud, bubbly, and hated sitting still. Her father, my husband, died when she was just 2 months old. She always insisted that she could bring him back if I gave her my car. She didn’t understand the concept of death… being too innocent for that troubled fact. She had chocolate brown curls that cascaded around her heart shaped face, and light blue eyes that stood out in comparison to her slightly pink skin.


    After I calmed down, I learned that my daughter was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), a cancer that ran through her blood as we spoke. If not treated, we were facing a fatal disease.
    Chemotherapy was added to our calendar more than five times a month and at a point, a Stem Cell Transplantation was required.
    I was tested for tissue typing, and thanks to the lord, our tissues were compatible.
    Angel being her lively self was loved and admired greatly in the hospital. All the kids looked up to playing with her, and the staff was amazed by her strength.
    Yes, she was a very brave warrior and I hoped she’d get us through this battle against leukemia.
    The surgery was completed successfully and for a few weeks, things were looking up.
    One day before Angel’s birthday, she looked at me innocently and scared me without meaning to.
    ‘You know mommy, you look like a princess! You have beautiful hair and I have nothing to match your beauty!’ she said sadly as she rubbed her bare scalp.
    Tears flooded my eyes and I asked one of the nurses to watch her while I left the hospital. I just had another gift to get her.
    The next day, I entered the hospital with a small box and my head held up high. The moment I entered Angel’s room, she looked up at me with shock written on her face.
    ‘You have cancer too Mommy?’ She asked fearfully. I just shook my head not trusting my voice. I gave her the box and watched as she opened it and pulled out a wig made from my hair fashioned to fit her small head. She looked at me awestruck and softly whispered a “thank you” as tears rolled down her face.
    For a five year old, she was very mature. If there’s one thing I could blame cancer for, it was stealing Angel’s childhood. The rest we could manage.
    That day we had a blast and cancer was forgotten and for the time being. It was like the old times, when Angel and I would go celebrate her birthday in her favorite theme park. She was the only reason I pushed by each day, forgot the pain of being orphaned and then widowed. She was the reason behind the smile on my face.
    For a while, Angel’s state was stable. Her appetite was dropping though and she lost a lot of weight. The doctors said it was normal. Her face grew skinnier and her natural blush turned to papery white. Her blue eyes remained as they were; determined to fight. Her state was worrying and frightening me more and more as each day passed by.
    Three months after her birthday, I took Angel to a pool party she’s been begging me for ages to attend.
    When I was changing her clothes, I noticed the bruises on her back, chest, and limbs.
    ‘You know Mommy! I will never take off your hair until death does us apart! And when I die, bury me with it! Only if you really want it back, then you can have it. Don’t give me that look, I AM going to die one day!’ she looked at me sternly. I couldn’t believe my five year old treasure was the one opening my eyes to reality.
    Halfway through the party she fainted in the swimming pool. My eyes widened in shock as I jumped into the pool and pulled her out of it. Remembering the teachings of the first aid courses I took when she was diagnosed, I felt for a heartbeat and when I barely found one, I moved her body and performed CPR (mouth-to-mouth resuscitation). Words can’t explain the joy that overcame me when she sat up coughing.
    I looked up to see that we were surrounded by parents and kids her age and was glad to see an ambulance pulling up the front yard.
    We were rushed into the hospital and after five painful hours of waiting, the doctor brought news that burst our happy bubbles and reminded me of Angel’s earlier words.
    ‘I’m sorry Susan; it seems that her body rejected the marrow. There’s nothing we can do now that won’t kill her. Just pray!’ the doctor sniffs sadly as he pats my back.
    I collapsed on the floor and cried my heart out. For the first time ever, I felt like there was no use to fight it anymore. Depression was slowly taking over my body. I stayed in that helpless position for hours until I couldn’t take the pity filled looks anymore. I walked into Angel’s room and tried to find a way to deliver the news to her.
    When she saw me broken and in loss for words, shock and realization painted her face. Till this day, beats me how she was very strong and smart.
    ‘I’m going to die, right?’ she asked in sorrow. I nod my head as tears flow freely. What she said next was completely what I didn’t expect.
    ‘Marry someone mommy! I don’t want you to live lonely!’ I froze as at her words.
    'Promise me mommy!' she begged again.
    'I promise' I said as tears silently rolled down my face. She sighed and closed her eyes.
    ‘I love you mommy!’ she mumbled. ‘I love you way more!’ I replied while hugging her tightly. That night, I watched as she slept and replayed every memory I could grasp since she came into this world. Her father would be proud of the team we were I thought sadly. Now she would join him and leave me alone.
    I woke up as a chill engulfed my heart and a piercing alarm echoed all around the room. I spun my head frantically, searching for the source. My soul sank to the depths of loss as I saw the flat lines that indicated her heartbeat and the noise that erupted from the vital signs monitor.
    Instantly the room was filled with doctors and nurses who tried to hold me down and check for Angels pulse. Why try, we all knew that she was long gone. No matter what we did, she stared back at us with a smile that couldn’t be wiped. A horrible scream filled the room and I guessed it came from me. I fell to the ground screaming and thrashing until they drugged me.
    And that’s when I last saw my daughter, cold, lifeless, yet happy and content. I couldn’t help but think we “lost the war.”

    THE END


    ****************************
    ****************************
    ****************************




    4 English
    Aware...
    Writer from Khartoum:
    Eva Andrew Tadros Sama’an

    I was sick of everything I had to put up with. The constant lies, the manipulation, the insults; it was all becoming too much. I couldn't bear it any more. Every time I told myself it was going to be okay, that it would get better with time. A part of me always doubted what I was trying to convince myself with, but I turned it off. I finally realized it had been right all along, things only get worse. They deteriorated; degenerated. Who was I trying to kid? The only person I was lying to was I. But I was through. No more lies, no more excuses. I was going to face the truth. I was done defending my post in the battlefield I called my mind.

    I washed my face and looked at the mirror. The face staring back was a cold and an insensate one; a face that I hadn't seen before. Except that I had, too many times, noticed that every time it was colder, harsher, and more hateful. It was like whenever I made it go away, it came back stronger and with more determination. Like a dead man rising from ashes, seeking revenge. The feeling I had was undepictable. All the words in the world couldn't describe it. It was an understatement to say it was dreadful. But I wasn't going to fight it. I was going to let it take over. It had won; finally conquered me, and it wasn't leaving; it was there to stay.

    I went up the stairs to the seventh floor balcony to try and shake it off; to try and calm down. But the feeling only got worse. I saw today's paper on the floor with a picture of me and a caption that read: “insane girl escapes from mental institution”. Insane? I wasn't insane. I was perfectly sane; aware. Escape? They portrayed me like I was some sort of prisoner. No, I wasn't insane. I was just different; special. They hadn't met someone like me before; someone who dared to be different; someone who dared to be unique, someone who dared to stand out; to step out of the box they were all living in. Yes, I broke boundaries; I was someone who thought nothing of the limits. Rules were just a bunch of words the government scribbled. I made my own rules. I wasn't going to be inferior to anyone. I lived my life the way I wanted to and not the way the law wanted me to.
    I sat at the edge of the building's roof and thought about how awful people were. Horrific people, each and every one of them is. They all claimed to care; pretended to be concerned. Selfishness was the main quality in human beings. All they sought was protecting their own interests; no matter who they hurt in the process. As long as they were safe and their interests were secure. What was most shocking for me to learn was those who supposedly cared the most about you ended up hurting you the most. The wounds they caused couldn't be healed; they were unrecoverable from. After trying to please everyone and trying to make sure everyone was satisfied with you, all you got was a cold slap on your face. It was inevitable; it was just human nature.
    The saddest part though, was that I was the same. I hurt people without realizing it, I made people suffer. I was just like all the other demons I was complaining about. I knew it. And now someone somewhere was suffering because of me. They were in pain; agonized. And I was the reason, whether directly or indirectly. But that was going to stop. I wasn't going to torture anyone any more. It was enough.

    And with that a last thought crossed my mind. How could I ever make it up to all those I hurt? Will they ever grant me their forgiveness?
    In light of recent events, I wound up having a pocketknife in my jeans. I took it out and sliced my sweaty palm open. I rubbed the blood and when I had enough on my finger, I wrote two simple words on my arm. With that done, I took a deep breath and jumped. It was liberating; exhilarating. It was the best feeling in the world. At that moment all my troubles had disappeared; vanished. I was a peaceful person again. The dreadful feeling I had was now gone, substituted with a feeling of eternal freedom. I didn't think of what I had and hadn't accomplished. No, at that moment, my release from my jail cell in the world was all that was important.

    Before I knew it, I saw grey concrete, and then blackness...

    The headlines of the next morning's paper read: “mentally deranged girl found dead with the words 'I apologize' written with blood on her arm; was the institution to blame?”

















    5- Writer from Khartoum
                  

Arabic Forum

12-29-2012, 07:12 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    5- Writer from Khartoum:

    How hope found me.
    A story by Dinan Alasad

    I awaken, in a room that would have been pitch black if it wasn't for the wisps of light that came in through the ajar door and the uncurtained windows. I sense a figure next to me. I am not sure if it is a human or an object. I remain frozen for a moment, trying to make sense of the place I am in. I slowly try to move, but my body is stiff and sore and I only manage to move my head. I try shouting but all that I can manage is a dry pathetic croak. Nevertheless, it is enough to alert the figure next to me, who I now notice is a nurse. She stands up with a start, dropping the novel she had been reading. She smashes a red button next to my bed and hastily walks out of the room. Turning on every light on her way out. I look around and everything is white, a doctor arrives and asks me to lie back down but I refuse to do so, I resist his and the nurse's orders, and he injects a needle into my arm and before I can make sense of what has happened I slip to slumber once again.

    I wake up again with a headache and dizziness. The white room I am in keeps spinning and I hear voices speaking quickly in worried tones. They stop abrubtly when they see that I am up. Someone walks to my bedside and tampers with the machines and suddenly everything becomes clearer. I sit up slightly and before I can speak I am given a cup of water, I take the cold drink in my hand. "What is going on. Can someone please tell me?!" I say, my annoyance clear in my croaky voice. The people who have been talking gather next to my bed and I take in their faces. One is my mother, the other is my father, they look so different, gray and old. The other two are a young man who looks terribly familiar and a kindly middle aged man with black hair streaked with silver in a labcoat who must be the doctor. He speaks in a slow voice, looking me straight in my eyes "This might come as a shock to you Miss Mai. This is 2032. You have been in a coma for 20 years." "You're kidding." I say with a humorless laugh, eyes wide. He gives me an apologetic look. It wasn't the drug that sent me sleeping this time, it was the shock of the news.

    I open my eyes and notice that the scene hadn't changed much since I had fallen asleep. My parents are still gathered around my bed, in chairs now, there is no sign of the doctor or the young man though. I feel much better now and I sit up. "Hello." I say awkwardly, in a little voice. "MAI, YOU ARE AWAKE AGAIN." shouts my mother, she surprises me and looks like she immediatly regrets over reacting. "How do you feel?" she says in a less hysterical tone. "Good. I'd be much better if I understood what happened!" I say angrily. My mother and father explain to me how I was involved in an accident when I was 18 and was sent in a coma. I am taken aback by the story. I sit there with my eyes wide and my mouth slightly open. "So I am 38 years old now? That can't be. My whole life is gone, down the drain. All my plans are ruined! Its too late to go back to Medical School now, and I can forget about being a surgeon!" I say frantically. "Don't say that, Mai, its never too late to do anything. If there's a will, there's a way." says my Father. I sigh and smile at him. He has always known what to say. "Where is Mohamed?" I ask him, not wanting to discuss the accident or my future anymore. Mohamed is my brother, he was 5 when I went into my coma. "He went to get us all some things from home, he'll be back soon." he replies.

    After minutes of catching up and learning all about my old friends' achievements, the young man I hadn't recognized from before walks in, carrying a suitcase. His eyes shine brightly when he sees me. I know those brown gleaming eyes. "MOHAMED!" I shout. He smiles and walks over to my bed. After a tearful greeting he pulls a chair and sits next to my parents. He tells me all about his life now. How he has a wife and a little girl named after me and how he has become the youngest architect to ever design a building in Khartoum's Skyline. Just as he finishes off the story of how he met his wife, a nurse walks in, ordering my family to go home and leave me to rest. I don't argue as I am exhausted. They shuffle out of the door and leave me in the dark room alone. Trying to figure out what to do with my life and slightly wishing I had never woken up from my coma.

    I rise the next day feeling a lot better, a nurse helps me up and I walk around my big room. I regain my ability to walk, though I am breathless quickly. I look in the mirror and I like what I see. For a person who had been sleeping for the past 20 years I don't look so bad, give or take a few wrinkles, of course. All in all, I am doing well and rapidly recovering.

    Mohamed visits me a few weeks later and he asks the doctor if he can take me out to see the Khartoum of 2032 and his building and the doctor approves as I have been doing well in my physiotherapy. Excited, I get ready and storm out out of the hospital.
    I step out of the hospital gates and I gasp. Woah. Oh My God. I am breathless, not because I'm tired or dizzy but because of the beauty of Khartoum. The streets are clean and reflect the moon's light. The futuristic cars on them are of all colours. The buildings are most astonishing. The most creative pieces of architecture stand where dirt piles used to. Skyscrapers stand in the place of old Souqs. Humongous beautiful mosques stand where small ones once stood. I walk around in total awe and I am so angry when I have to go to the hospital. I return to the hospital with my will power strengthened and hopes high. Which is a great improvement since I had been wishing I had never gotten up just last month. I lay in my bed and think. I'll do it, I decide. I'll go back to school, I'll make it through Med School and I will try to make all my dreams came true. If this great city rose from what used to be an undeveloped place, then I can continue my life. If there is a will there is a way, right?






    ***********************
    *****************
    **********














    6- Writer from Kkartoum
    Commitment
    By: Mazin Elshazali

    In Eurasia, there was a city called Fioron where a boy changed history. The young boy, Leonard lived with his parents. They didn’t believe in the existence of any higher power. Leonard has known no other way for all his life. The existence of Allah to them was impossible.
    One day, he was simply coming from a long day of school with his friend, Sarah. He couldn’t wait to come back home to see his family, but what he saw didn’t cheer him up at all. To his Sadness, he found his father was lying on the floor helplessly. Leonard’s mother was crying over her husband’s body. Then Leonard, stepped into sadness.
    Next day, he went to the hospital with his mother to check on his father. The doctor said that his father is suffering from cancer, one that is fatal and incurable. Leonard still hoped for his father’s health to be restored, but he did not pray.
    One day, something happened that would change his life forever. When he went to sleep, he saw a strange-looking man in his dreams. With white hair and light clothing, but for some reason his face wasn’t visible.
    “Who are you?” demanded Leonard.
    “Who I am of no concern”, replied the man in white, “I am here to give you a proposal spread the word of the existence of Allah to Fioron and your father’s life will be spared”.
    “I don’t know you! “Shouted Leonard, “who you are and what you do you want.” But before he could get a reply, he woke up. Was that real? Anyway, he needed to do whatever that man said regardless of who he was.
    During the week, he tried to tell his friends about God, but they didn’t believe him and said that a world made by one God was impossible. Leonard told everyone he knew, including his mother, but no one believed him. He kept trying to inform the people that he was not lying; his father’s life depended on it. He decided to go visit the Islamic community to get advice from the Sheikh. As he entered, people looked at him awkwardly. He went to talk to the Sheikh.
    “Pardon me, sheikh, but could you tell me how to convert to Islam”, he asked politely.
    “It might be a little hard for someone like you,” replied the sheikh.
    “Please”, begged Leonard, “I am determined to learn more about Islam”.
    “I sense potential in you; I believe you could become a great Muslim.”
    He sat down for hours being told about the wonders of Islam. He listened to the history, the rules and regulations, the Qur’an and even the Hadith. He was truly fascinated. After learning more about the wonders of Islam for 2 hours, he went back home as it was time to go to bed.
    On a new day, after the rebirth of Leonard, he decided to enjoy the day as man of freedom. He woke up with joy.
    “Would you like some toast,” said his mother
    “No thanks,” said Leonard, “I am fasting.”
    His mother became very confused and wished to ask what that was, but decided to call it a boy matter, and went to do some laundry. At school, Leonard became a great topic for students and teachers.
    “Hey Leonard,” said Sarah when they were going to class, “I sense something different from your, is that a new tie.”
    “Ha ha, no,” replied, “I have simply become a Muslim.”
    “What’s a Muslim?”
    “I am glad you asked.”
    Leonard told Sarah everything in his knowledge in a sum of an hour. She was so amazed that she herself took up the Islamic oath. She told her friends about her new sense of love. Then they too converted and told many others about the joy of Islam. Leonard felt a sort of happiness knowing that his father’s life might be saved.
    But in the middle of the night, the President had caught wind that a large percentage of people converted, causing problems for Eurasia. While he was discussing the matter, he demanded that the problem must be dealt with as soon as possible. For the good of Eurasia, he would move mountains.
    Leonard was returning home. He went to bed after a long tiring day. But little did he know, the man in light clothing was waiting to tell him some dark news in his dream.
    “At 10:00, the government is going to capture you, take all you can and leave”.
    Leonard suddenly woke up shocked and scared. He wanted to run as far away as possible, but he knew it would do no good. He prayed desperately to God for protection. Quickly, he went to create a plan. He needed to act fast, where would he go? But then he had an idea, he decided to run as far as he could, before the government got to him or his loved ones. No one could know where he is, even his mother or Sarah. He packed his bags with food and clothing and left without a trace.
    His mother went to his room in the morning to wake him up, but she found his bed empty. She was in a state of shock. First she was about to loose her husband, now her son. This was a week of sorrow, although a great week for many. She feared Leonard might have been kidnapped, and felt guilty for not being there to protect him. Why wasn’t she there? She just sat down and cried; now she had nothing.
    The day just kept on getting worse for the President, despite his best efforts he had failed to capture Leonard. He had enough; he decided to settle this once and for all. Meanwhile; Leonard was running where his legs took him. He needed to get as far away as possible. But then he had a second thought, would a true Muslim run from his problems, NEVER. He decided to go with his heart, and he ran all the way back to Fioron. As he sprinted past the TV shop, he saw that the President was broadcasting a live address.
    “I wish to send a message to the delinquent known as Leonard Vanterra”, said the President “I challenge him to a duel in Town square at sunset to settle this dispute once and for all, show us all what a coward you are.”Leonard had to think this through; he would rather die than live in a life of lies. He was going to accept.
    At sunset, the President was waiting, and so was the large crowd .They had waited long enough. The President declared Leonard to be a coward. But then he saw someone, Leonard, coming from the distance. The President was surprised.
    “He actually came”, he thought, “does he have a death wish”. Leonard walked through the crowd to the duelling ground. The referee gave them both pistols.
    “Remember the rules, shoot only after instructed. “The two men took their positions and waited patiently. Suddenly, the referee gave the command .Leonard drew his gun at light speed and aimed it directly at the leader’s head. The President dropped his gun in fear, the game was settled.
    “What are you doing? “Shouted the President, “kill me quickly, and make it painless”. But suddenly, Leonard dropped his gun. This caused great confusion for the crowd
    “If I killed you, I wouldn’t have the right to be called a man.”, Leonard replied, “Death is not the answer. Islam is about finding true peace, not destroying it.”
    “But I tried to kill you?”
    “I understand that you are guilty, but your death will not set it right, I won’t be killing anyone.”
    “I am your enemy, why can’t you kill your enemy.”
    “Because in Islam, there are no enemies; Even if you are a Muslim or an atheist, we are still human and that is what counts.”Suddenly, tears streamed from face of the President and the crowd. Even the referee was crying. No one could fight the tears of joy. The President thought; is this the resolve of a true Muslim? If it was, he wished to see more of it. He wiped off his tears and reached for his microphone.
    “After witnessing this touching event of honour, I hereby declare Islam to be an honorary religion in Fioron. Now we shall dedicate a lot to Islam.”The crowd cheered and chanted as the young boy’s wish came true. His destiny was completed.
    Over the years, the number of converts had increased almost tripled. Most of the famous Eurasian names converted. Even the President converted. Thanks to a certain boy, Eurasia became a better place. Now he lives a normal, unassuming life with his mother and father (who had miraculously recovered). Islam had begun to spread like a wild fire throughout the world. This story is now at its end, but a bright new era had only begun.




                  

Arabic Forum

12-29-2012, 07:32 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    7- Writer from Australia:
    Fallout
    Warif Elobaid
    Everything is plain, there are no trees. No grass. No Cities. It’s a Wasteland. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know how I got here, I look back and I see a gigantic vault door. The small dusty sign above it reads ‘Vault 152’, Vault 152… It definitely rings a bell but I have no idea who I am, or what I’m doing here. But I have a feeling I’m looking for something.
    In the distance I spot a small metal dome-looking town, As soon as I start making my way to the town I hear the crunch of my boots on the yellow and shattered gravel. I was half way there when the sound of the crunching I was hearing disappeared, and was replaced by the sound of a massive explosion. I fell back and closed my eyes until I felt safe enough to open them again, fortunately for me, I opened my eyes to a picturesque shimmering dome of light from the explosion. Unfortunately, whoever was in the explosion would have had a bad time.
    I continue my way to the town treading past several eerie corpses, as I get to the town gate I notice there is a pile of metal junk crumbled into a little ball. As surprised as I am seeing the shiny ball, it starts to roll over to me, just then in the instant of a second, it popped up into a human like figure. The “Robot” (not quite sure what it was) had two arms and one bulky leg with a wheel on it, and one big screen head that stood on its neck. “Hello” It said in a synthesized voice. “…” I replied…I had no idea why I couldn’t speak but as much as I tried to utter a single word, I just couldn’t. “Well, this is a friendly town now, so don’t try anything” It commanded, A big grey door open with a screeching sound revealing the city I was to see. It wasn’t as I expected. It wasn’t as crowded or as busy as thought it would be for such a big place. There was a market with about four or five crooked stalls to the left, and to the right, a mound of ceramic material neatly assembled in tiles creating walls and a roof towers over me. After I had finished examining the town, a man who was about 6’7 and at least 43 years of age wearing a trench coat and cowboy hat, bellows over me “Hello, welcome to my city, I’m the sheriff nice to meet you” He says happily “…” I stupidly open my mouth and wanted to tell him how I couldn’t speak, “Ah, so you’re a mute are you? Yeah well, we don’t get a lot from the
    vaults like you” he added, I had no idea what he was talking about when he said that so I gave him all I could and looked at him quizzically “Hehahahaaa” he chuckled merrily, “Go see old man Graffiti” As much as I would like to think that was the most horrible name in the world (must have got a lot of crap at school) it also might have been his nickname.
    The Sheriff then turned my shoulders to the right, now I was facing an old but colourful, run down house which had a quixotic looking old man sitting on a swinging chair on the porch. “Well, see’ya ‘round” Exclaimed sheriff while walking away. I slowly made my way to the old man and the moment I stepped on his porch I noticed he was sleeping. I didn’t want to wake the old man, so I turned back and headed to the market. “Wait.” he whispered, His voice caused a shiver to run down my back. Almost as if…I’ve know this voice before.
    ”You don’t know, but I do…You’re a mute…A person who cannot talk” he whispered again. He pointed to a seat then said “Sit. Take your time”, I walked chair, creeped out with my eyes glued to the man. He handed me a blackish sliver board looking tablet and a pencil. “Write what you wish to say” He muttered, I took the pencil in my hand and slid it across the screen. A bright white line followed the trail of my pencil. I thought to myself ‘wow. Since I’m a “mute” this will be perfect!’
    “--Thank you –“I wrote on the tablet, which I then showed him “you’re welcome”, he merrily said “Well then son, you don’t where you are. Do you?” he added “–no sir—“I responded “It was a bomb. From space.” He said cracking a smile “—is this why it’s so dry and plain?—“I scribbled. “Why yes, yes. The bomb was nearly as big as the moon and the cause was space junk and garbage” he exclaimed. “—I have never of space garbage, sir” “Long ago, People used to send rocket fuelled garbage into space because the earth was too full of it, then 20 years after they have started sending the garbage into space, then it all went out of hand and all the garbage started forming then…then Karama hit NASA right in the face with a brick. The garbage started to get pulled in to earth because it was too heavy to orbit around the earth” He went on and on… But the important thing was that it was NASA’s fault.
    “*cough* Well, Sonny you haven’t even told me your name yet! “He shouted “—I don’t have a name—“I scribbled, “WHAT? Oh yeah...You’re a vault
    type…How’s ‘Thane’? He asked, Thane…thane…I liked it. I liked it so much it made me smile “—Thane’s good—“I joyfully wrote. It was getting dark, but I and graffiti still talked for a while then we had some dinner. Afterwards I thanked him for the meal and walked out to the front of his porch and looked back at his house. Then I realised something. That his colorfully painted house wasn’t painted that way. It was graffiti on the walls and roof, and it was vandalised. No wonder it was crooked and rundown. Just then, A ‘gang’ of people walked towards me but since it was dark I couldn’t see how much people were there. “You here to graffiti?” One of them said. I couldn’t talk so he shoved me into a beam which was supporting the house roof and smashed on my head and knock me out cold. My first reaction was to beat the absolute out of whoever done that but I was out. “Hey butch” “yeah?” “Should we hide him?” “Take him out near the Lair of Heller”…………………………………………….
    A while after that has happened I wake up to the sight of the a ghastly figure looking over me and whispering to my ear, I wake up and found myself in a dark, isolated small shack. The ghostly figure was clumped spider web, and the whisper was the slightly open window near me. “sleep.” Cried an eerie voice, I looked behind me but as soon as I tried to get up, my eyelids felt heavy and I fell to the rickety old bed in an instant. A couple of hours later I got up with a sore leg because in had my writing board in my pocket. Shocked, I got up and examined the shack for a good 5 minutes then saw a door and a key next to the door on a hinged coat hanger. I grabbed the key and tried to open the door but it wouldn’t fit in, so I tried shaking it. Really hard. Until it snapped. “This is the real key” My face went blank and I literally jumped across the room I looked over to who it was, and I saw young lady wearing red and black studded overall tights and a facemask. “Don’t be afraid…I saved your life.” The shadowy person said. “You know something? If you really want the key you’re going to have to do me a favour!” She exclaimed. I got out my writing pad and scribbled “—what’s on your mind?—“With a gloomy look on my face “Blow-up NASA.” She quickly said. “—WHY?! They saved the human colonies by not letting garbage interfere with everyday lives. —” I scribbled “They are also responsible for destroying human colonies and starting a new era”. Since I had no other choice, I had to give in to the clever stranger “—I’ll do you the favour. But only if you help. —” I wrote “sure, and by the way…My name is Scarlett.” she said. She unlocked the door and we were on our way to the NASA commissioning
    centre think she said it was. She packed some explosives and weapons and we headed over to the station. “—are we expecting company–?”I Asked “yup, here” she said while tossing me Sub-machine guns, a flash grenade and a packet of clips “You’ll definitely need those.” she remarked. In no time we were at the station. It was a colossal, towering building made from white stone and brick. “Okay I’ll sneak in from the back and you can go in guns blazing from the front” She ordered, and against my luck the front door was guarded heavily. I was in cover and needed to get to the left side of the fallen pillar I was covering behind but there was big gap in the middle so I tried to commando roll my way to the left side, but the first thing anybody did was open fire. This means that they were guarding a big secret. Before I hoped out of cover I was thinking about pulling the trigger and ending someone’s life, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. But I had to. I had to find out what they were doing and I had to find out what they are planning. Scarlett had already infiltrated the back. I thought. Did she kill anyone? Is she hurt? I snapped out of it and hopped up and pulled the trigger a few times without even seeing my targets, and the recoil was so powerful it knocked me back into the cover I was in…This wasn’t no ordinary gun…, so I was a sitting duck to the army men, I was worried about Scarlett and I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered the flash bang she gave me, so I set off the clip and gave it my hardest throw. There was a loud bang, so I looked over and it worked! The army men were retreating, so I made my way into the station and I arrived at a big console command computer room. “Hello. Thane.” Said a man Scarlett, the Sherriff and the Gang were all there. I have never been so confused in my life… What were they all doing there? “My name is Darius. I have built a robot mad from garbage and litter and it will destroy the world as we know it. Scarlett and the ‘Sherriff’ are my associates” “Confused? I would be too. “Said the chief “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do any work saving the planet. You’ll die here too!” exclaimed Scarlett. I didn’t know whether to believe it or not, but I was interrupted by a massive screeching robot that looked at me with its unstable orange eyes. And before I knew it, they were all gone. Scarlett, Sherriff, The man and the gang. The robot was connected to four tubes they opened up, I shot them with my submachine gun, and fell to the ground. Several hours later I looked up. And the robot was in pieces.
    Warif Elobaid
    Stromlo High School
    Year 9

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    The Tale of the Sudanese Thawb
    8- Writer from Khartoum:
    Mustafa Elsheikh Mustafa
    It was a beautiful summer day in Khartoum with no clouds in the sky but a cold breeze blew around and if you were to look at the Nile river you would see many people fishing that day, you would also see a man with hair as white as snow and a withered look on him he might look weak and fragile but in truth he could outrun many who were much younger than him, his hazel brown eyes shining with happiness as he sat under the shade of a big date palm with a man who appears to be in his late thirties with jet black hair and hazel eyes like his father that were filled with joy and next to him sat a women not much younger than him with eyes as blue as the sky that lingered protectively over the three little kids who were happily playing together she kept looking at them until her husband asked her to help him layout the plates of food they’d gotten with them from their house and as they all sat down and started to eat the youngest child looked at his mother and said : “Mum why do Sudanese women wear thawb’s ?” in reply his mother shrugged and said “it’s very nice and comfortable” she was in the process of cutting up some meat into smaller pieces so her daughter could eat it when she was interrupted by her father-in-law who had a mischievous smile on his face and he said in a deep strong voice “kids, let me tell you a story from long, long ago” and the kids answer came in form of multiple loud squeals of delight and their parents smiled because they knew he would make up a story up to entertain the kids.
    “This is a story of courage, endurance and adventure. This story is as old as the Sudanese culture itself; it is so old it has been forgotten by most people. It all started when a young Sudanese women was getting ready to go out with her husband and kids to watch the annual dance and feast of their tribe and as she was walking towards the door of their hut her abaya got stuck on a rock and was ripped and as the lady turned around groaning she realized that the abaya had just become more comfortable. After going back to change she thought of how better life would be if she could just wear something just as comfortable all the time and she knew her jalabiya wouldn’t suffice so she promised herself she would tell the tribe chief’s wife to find a way to rid them of these disastrous items of clothing so at the next big meeting the tribe chief decided to issue a quest in which three of the villages strongest and bravest men would go. These three heroes would head west and have to endure blistering heat and defeat mighty beasts in order to find the temple of the tailors who would give them a sheet sowing how to make the perfect clothing for women. The three men were called Ahmed, Basil and Mustafa. The next morning at the break of dawn as the sun was just making its way up the roof tops and the roosters started to crow they embarked on their perilous quest. After two days of undisturbed greenery and peaceful travel the guys were starting to lay back a bit, they started to have less shifts for watching so on the third day when a lion crept up on them during the middle of the day as they were sitting in a circle chatting and eating their lunch and as the lion charged, the first to see it was Ahmed who scream “LION” but as his friends jumped to get their weapons the lion had already leaped at them and its sharp jagged teeth narrowly missed Mustafa’s arm but its claws caught on the hem of his jalabiya and tore of a piece of it but before it could do any serious damage Basil who had recovered from the shock and had grabbed his shield hit the lion with it over his head aiming to knock it out not kill it as he was very sympathetic towards animals, he knew that the lion probably only attacked because they had trespassed on its territory. The rest of the week passed uneventful, non-the less they did not let their guard down this time, but they also didn’t find what they were looking for, and as the days passed the forest started to thin out and by the middle of the next week they were deep in the dessert and it was getting harder to know where they are but luckily Ali knew how to use the stars as a map so he kept them on track, by the end of their first week in the barren waste land they were almost out of supplies and the temple was nowhere to be seen so they decided that from then on they would only travel by night. By the third night they were getting desperate but they were still on alert so when it was Basil’s turn to guard he did not overlook the small black scorpion that crawled out of a small hole next to Ahmed and he didn’t hesitate to stab it with the dagger in his hand but as soon as he did more scorpions burst out of the same hole and many others and as Ali started grabbing his belongings he called for his friends to wake up. As they blinked the sleep out of their eyes they realized the danger they were in and started to crawl away picking their belongings in the way. After that night they made sure there were no holes in the places they made camp at, by the third week of their adventure they weren’t expecting to come by the temple anytime soon so when they saw a dark blue building in the horizon they were so happy they ran straight at it and didn’t stop until they were at the bright yellow gates of the temple of the tailors. As they walked to the gates of the temple they swung open of their own accord to show not just a temple but a garden of breath taking beauty they walked towards the temple, through the garden, following a path made of bricks and as they got to the gates a voice boomed from behind the gates saying: “WHO ARE YOU? AND WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE HERE?”. As if on queue Basil stepped forward and said “I am Basil and these are my companions Ahmed and Mustafa, we were sent here by our tribe chief to seek the perfect clothing and he said you would have the answer” after that there was a moment of silence then the door opened to show many people of different races and ages working together weaving clothes of different color, shape and size whilst chatting and laughing among each other. Right in front of them stood a man who said in the same voice as before “welcome heroes, we have been expecting you”. After that he gave them a quick tour of the temple showing them the different rooms and halls and introducing them to some of the volunteers who apparently came to learn there from all over the world. When they got to the room in which the chief tailor was supposed to meet them he treated them with honor and offered them a feast in their name but they kindly rejected his kind offer and asked if he could give them the item of clothing so they could go back home but he said “I can only give you the written instruction for they can only be read by the person meant to read them and all others do not understand what they see written on it”. After that the heroes filled their supplies and started their journey back home which was thankfully uneventful for if they had met another lion they would have surely lost their lives. When they got back to their village they were greeted with a feast and a dance and were treated as heroes for the rest of their lives. The sheet was passed around the people of the village until they found someone who could read the instructions and incidentally it was the daughter woman who had cut her abaya all those weeks before and the next day she stood in front of the chiefs house with all the villagers and said “I HAVE IT”.
    THE END
    “And that kids is the real story of how your mother and all Sudanese women got to wear Thawb’s” said the grandfather. After that they got ready to leave but before they got in the car they all stood and watched the beautiful view as the sun set ending a very beautiful day.

    THE REAL END
                  

Arabic Forum

12-29-2012, 07:32 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    7- Writer from Australia:
    Fallout
    Warif Elobaid
    Everything is plain, there are no trees. No grass. No Cities. It’s a Wasteland. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know how I got here, I look back and I see a gigantic vault door. The small dusty sign above it reads ‘Vault 152’, Vault 152… It definitely rings a bell but I have no idea who I am, or what I’m doing here. But I have a feeling I’m looking for something.
    In the distance I spot a small metal dome-looking town, As soon as I start making my way to the town I hear the crunch of my boots on the yellow and shattered gravel. I was half way there when the sound of the crunching I was hearing disappeared, and was replaced by the sound of a massive explosion. I fell back and closed my eyes until I felt safe enough to open them again, fortunately for me, I opened my eyes to a picturesque shimmering dome of light from the explosion. Unfortunately, whoever was in the explosion would have had a bad time.
    I continue my way to the town treading past several eerie corpses, as I get to the town gate I notice there is a pile of metal junk crumbled into a little ball. As surprised as I am seeing the shiny ball, it starts to roll over to me, just then in the instant of a second, it popped up into a human like figure. The “Robot” (not quite sure what it was) had two arms and one bulky leg with a wheel on it, and one big screen head that stood on its neck. “Hello” It said in a synthesized voice. “…” I replied…I had no idea why I couldn’t speak but as much as I tried to utter a single word, I just couldn’t. “Well, this is a friendly town now, so don’t try anything” It commanded, A big grey door open with a screeching sound revealing the city I was to see. It wasn’t as I expected. It wasn’t as crowded or as busy as thought it would be for such a big place. There was a market with about four or five crooked stalls to the left, and to the right, a mound of ceramic material neatly assembled in tiles creating walls and a roof towers over me. After I had finished examining the town, a man who was about 6’7 and at least 43 years of age wearing a trench coat and cowboy hat, bellows over me “Hello, welcome to my city, I’m the sheriff nice to meet you” He says happily “…” I stupidly open my mouth and wanted to tell him how I couldn’t speak, “Ah, so you’re a mute are you? Yeah well, we don’t get a lot from the
    vaults like you” he added, I had no idea what he was talking about when he said that so I gave him all I could and looked at him quizzically “Hehahahaaa” he chuckled merrily, “Go see old man Graffiti” As much as I would like to think that was the most horrible name in the world (must have got a lot of crap at school) it also might have been his nickname.
    The Sheriff then turned my shoulders to the right, now I was facing an old but colourful, run down house which had a quixotic looking old man sitting on a swinging chair on the porch. “Well, see’ya ‘round” Exclaimed sheriff while walking away. I slowly made my way to the old man and the moment I stepped on his porch I noticed he was sleeping. I didn’t want to wake the old man, so I turned back and headed to the market. “Wait.” he whispered, His voice caused a shiver to run down my back. Almost as if…I’ve know this voice before.
    ”You don’t know, but I do…You’re a mute…A person who cannot talk” he whispered again. He pointed to a seat then said “Sit. Take your time”, I walked chair, creeped out with my eyes glued to the man. He handed me a blackish sliver board looking tablet and a pencil. “Write what you wish to say” He muttered, I took the pencil in my hand and slid it across the screen. A bright white line followed the trail of my pencil. I thought to myself ‘wow. Since I’m a “mute” this will be perfect!’
    “--Thank you –“I wrote on the tablet, which I then showed him “you’re welcome”, he merrily said “Well then son, you don’t where you are. Do you?” he added “–no sir—“I responded “It was a bomb. From space.” He said cracking a smile “—is this why it’s so dry and plain?—“I scribbled. “Why yes, yes. The bomb was nearly as big as the moon and the cause was space junk and garbage” he exclaimed. “—I have never of space garbage, sir” “Long ago, People used to send rocket fuelled garbage into space because the earth was too full of it, then 20 years after they have started sending the garbage into space, then it all went out of hand and all the garbage started forming then…then Karama hit NASA right in the face with a brick. The garbage started to get pulled in to earth because it was too heavy to orbit around the earth” He went on and on… But the important thing was that it was NASA’s fault.
    “*cough* Well, Sonny you haven’t even told me your name yet! “He shouted “—I don’t have a name—“I scribbled, “WHAT? Oh yeah...You’re a vault
    type…How’s ‘Thane’? He asked, Thane…thane…I liked it. I liked it so much it made me smile “—Thane’s good—“I joyfully wrote. It was getting dark, but I and graffiti still talked for a while then we had some dinner. Afterwards I thanked him for the meal and walked out to the front of his porch and looked back at his house. Then I realised something. That his colorfully painted house wasn’t painted that way. It was graffiti on the walls and roof, and it was vandalised. No wonder it was crooked and rundown. Just then, A ‘gang’ of people walked towards me but since it was dark I couldn’t see how much people were there. “You here to graffiti?” One of them said. I couldn’t talk so he shoved me into a beam which was supporting the house roof and smashed on my head and knock me out cold. My first reaction was to beat the absolute out of whoever done that but I was out. “Hey butch” “yeah?” “Should we hide him?” “Take him out near the Lair of Heller”…………………………………………….
    A while after that has happened I wake up to the sight of the a ghastly figure looking over me and whispering to my ear, I wake up and found myself in a dark, isolated small shack. The ghostly figure was clumped spider web, and the whisper was the slightly open window near me. “sleep.” Cried an eerie voice, I looked behind me but as soon as I tried to get up, my eyelids felt heavy and I fell to the rickety old bed in an instant. A couple of hours later I got up with a sore leg because in had my writing board in my pocket. Shocked, I got up and examined the shack for a good 5 minutes then saw a door and a key next to the door on a hinged coat hanger. I grabbed the key and tried to open the door but it wouldn’t fit in, so I tried shaking it. Really hard. Until it snapped. “This is the real key” My face went blank and I literally jumped across the room I looked over to who it was, and I saw young lady wearing red and black studded overall tights and a facemask. “Don’t be afraid…I saved your life.” The shadowy person said. “You know something? If you really want the key you’re going to have to do me a favour!” She exclaimed. I got out my writing pad and scribbled “—what’s on your mind?—“With a gloomy look on my face “Blow-up NASA.” She quickly said. “—WHY?! They saved the human colonies by not letting garbage interfere with everyday lives. —” I scribbled “They are also responsible for destroying human colonies and starting a new era”. Since I had no other choice, I had to give in to the clever stranger “—I’ll do you the favour. But only if you help. —” I wrote “sure, and by the way…My name is Scarlett.” she said. She unlocked the door and we were on our way to the NASA commissioning
    centre think she said it was. She packed some explosives and weapons and we headed over to the station. “—are we expecting company–?”I Asked “yup, here” she said while tossing me Sub-machine guns, a flash grenade and a packet of clips “You’ll definitely need those.” she remarked. In no time we were at the station. It was a colossal, towering building made from white stone and brick. “Okay I’ll sneak in from the back and you can go in guns blazing from the front” She ordered, and against my luck the front door was guarded heavily. I was in cover and needed to get to the left side of the fallen pillar I was covering behind but there was big gap in the middle so I tried to commando roll my way to the left side, but the first thing anybody did was open fire. This means that they were guarding a big secret. Before I hoped out of cover I was thinking about pulling the trigger and ending someone’s life, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. But I had to. I had to find out what they were doing and I had to find out what they are planning. Scarlett had already infiltrated the back. I thought. Did she kill anyone? Is she hurt? I snapped out of it and hopped up and pulled the trigger a few times without even seeing my targets, and the recoil was so powerful it knocked me back into the cover I was in…This wasn’t no ordinary gun…, so I was a sitting duck to the army men, I was worried about Scarlett and I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered the flash bang she gave me, so I set off the clip and gave it my hardest throw. There was a loud bang, so I looked over and it worked! The army men were retreating, so I made my way into the station and I arrived at a big console command computer room. “Hello. Thane.” Said a man Scarlett, the Sherriff and the Gang were all there. I have never been so confused in my life… What were they all doing there? “My name is Darius. I have built a robot mad from garbage and litter and it will destroy the world as we know it. Scarlett and the ‘Sherriff’ are my associates” “Confused? I would be too. “Said the chief “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do any work saving the planet. You’ll die here too!” exclaimed Scarlett. I didn’t know whether to believe it or not, but I was interrupted by a massive screeching robot that looked at me with its unstable orange eyes. And before I knew it, they were all gone. Scarlett, Sherriff, The man and the gang. The robot was connected to four tubes they opened up, I shot them with my submachine gun, and fell to the ground. Several hours later I looked up. And the robot was in pieces.
    Warif Elobaid
    Stromlo High School
    Year 9

    ************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    The Tale of the Sudanese Thawb
    8- Writer from Khartoum:
    Mustafa Elsheikh Mustafa
    It was a beautiful summer day in Khartoum with no clouds in the sky but a cold breeze blew around and if you were to look at the Nile river you would see many people fishing that day, you would also see a man with hair as white as snow and a withered look on him he might look weak and fragile but in truth he could outrun many who were much younger than him, his hazel brown eyes shining with happiness as he sat under the shade of a big date palm with a man who appears to be in his late thirties with jet black hair and hazel eyes like his father that were filled with joy and next to him sat a women not much younger than him with eyes as blue as the sky that lingered protectively over the three little kids who were happily playing together she kept looking at them until her husband asked her to help him layout the plates of food they’d gotten with them from their house and as they all sat down and started to eat the youngest child looked at his mother and said : “Mum why do Sudanese women wear thawb’s ?” in reply his mother shrugged and said “it’s very nice and comfortable” she was in the process of cutting up some meat into smaller pieces so her daughter could eat it when she was interrupted by her father-in-law who had a mischievous smile on his face and he said in a deep strong voice “kids, let me tell you a story from long, long ago” and the kids answer came in form of multiple loud squeals of delight and their parents smiled because they knew he would make up a story up to entertain the kids.
    “This is a story of courage, endurance and adventure. This story is as old as the Sudanese culture itself; it is so old it has been forgotten by most people. It all started when a young Sudanese women was getting ready to go out with her husband and kids to watch the annual dance and feast of their tribe and as she was walking towards the door of their hut her abaya got stuck on a rock and was ripped and as the lady turned around groaning she realized that the abaya had just become more comfortable. After going back to change she thought of how better life would be if she could just wear something just as comfortable all the time and she knew her jalabiya wouldn’t suffice so she promised herself she would tell the tribe chief’s wife to find a way to rid them of these disastrous items of clothing so at the next big meeting the tribe chief decided to issue a quest in which three of the villages strongest and bravest men would go. These three heroes would head west and have to endure blistering heat and defeat mighty beasts in order to find the temple of the tailors who would give them a sheet sowing how to make the perfect clothing for women. The three men were called Ahmed, Basil and Mustafa. The next morning at the break of dawn as the sun was just making its way up the roof tops and the roosters started to crow they embarked on their perilous quest. After two days of undisturbed greenery and peaceful travel the guys were starting to lay back a bit, they started to have less shifts for watching so on the third day when a lion crept up on them during the middle of the day as they were sitting in a circle chatting and eating their lunch and as the lion charged, the first to see it was Ahmed who scream “LION” but as his friends jumped to get their weapons the lion had already leaped at them and its sharp jagged teeth narrowly missed Mustafa’s arm but its claws caught on the hem of his jalabiya and tore of a piece of it but before it could do any serious damage Basil who had recovered from the shock and had grabbed his shield hit the lion with it over his head aiming to knock it out not kill it as he was very sympathetic towards animals, he knew that the lion probably only attacked because they had trespassed on its territory. The rest of the week passed uneventful, non-the less they did not let their guard down this time, but they also didn’t find what they were looking for, and as the days passed the forest started to thin out and by the middle of the next week they were deep in the dessert and it was getting harder to know where they are but luckily Ali knew how to use the stars as a map so he kept them on track, by the end of their first week in the barren waste land they were almost out of supplies and the temple was nowhere to be seen so they decided that from then on they would only travel by night. By the third night they were getting desperate but they were still on alert so when it was Basil’s turn to guard he did not overlook the small black scorpion that crawled out of a small hole next to Ahmed and he didn’t hesitate to stab it with the dagger in his hand but as soon as he did more scorpions burst out of the same hole and many others and as Ali started grabbing his belongings he called for his friends to wake up. As they blinked the sleep out of their eyes they realized the danger they were in and started to crawl away picking their belongings in the way. After that night they made sure there were no holes in the places they made camp at, by the third week of their adventure they weren’t expecting to come by the temple anytime soon so when they saw a dark blue building in the horizon they were so happy they ran straight at it and didn’t stop until they were at the bright yellow gates of the temple of the tailors. As they walked to the gates of the temple they swung open of their own accord to show not just a temple but a garden of breath taking beauty they walked towards the temple, through the garden, following a path made of bricks and as they got to the gates a voice boomed from behind the gates saying: “WHO ARE YOU? AND WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE HERE?”. As if on queue Basil stepped forward and said “I am Basil and these are my companions Ahmed and Mustafa, we were sent here by our tribe chief to seek the perfect clothing and he said you would have the answer” after that there was a moment of silence then the door opened to show many people of different races and ages working together weaving clothes of different color, shape and size whilst chatting and laughing among each other. Right in front of them stood a man who said in the same voice as before “welcome heroes, we have been expecting you”. After that he gave them a quick tour of the temple showing them the different rooms and halls and introducing them to some of the volunteers who apparently came to learn there from all over the world. When they got to the room in which the chief tailor was supposed to meet them he treated them with honor and offered them a feast in their name but they kindly rejected his kind offer and asked if he could give them the item of clothing so they could go back home but he said “I can only give you the written instruction for they can only be read by the person meant to read them and all others do not understand what they see written on it”. After that the heroes filled their supplies and started their journey back home which was thankfully uneventful for if they had met another lion they would have surely lost their lives. When they got back to their village they were greeted with a feast and a dance and were treated as heroes for the rest of their lives. The sheet was passed around the people of the village until they found someone who could read the instructions and incidentally it was the daughter woman who had cut her abaya all those weeks before and the next day she stood in front of the chiefs house with all the villagers and said “I HAVE IT”.
    THE END
    “And that kids is the real story of how your mother and all Sudanese women got to wear Thawb’s” said the grandfather. After that they got ready to leave but before they got in the car they all stood and watched the beautiful view as the sun set ending a very beautiful day.

    THE REAL END
                  

Arabic Forum

12-29-2012, 07:46 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    * Please excuse me for repetition of 7 Warif and 8 Mustafa works.....
    They deserve to be read twice don't they.....

    It is unfair to them nobody comments on their work!
    May be on this side of the board what Arabic writers boardab say about you is true...
    I don,t like gossip..
    but like you say about them here they claim you are boring...
    Hahaha...
    If you are not then prove it somebody..
    Who am I talking to?
    Seems there is nobody around..
    You sleep alot don't you?
    Never mind..
    Young growing people need sleep among other things.

    I must stop 'gibbering' and finish posting our winning writers works...
    I promised them I will,
    And I shall.
                  

Arabic Forum

12-29-2012, 08:03 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    (((((Well, I told you,nobody noticed...just go ahead Asha))))).
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    9- Writer from Khartoum
    Amin Abdalla Alamin Elsheikh
    I’m A Hero

    I’m a hero. It’s funny how some words can change our life forever, these words were “you have been chosen to represent your country son,” said the military recruiter, I couldn’t say anything but “Sir, Yes sir “the hardest three words I said in my life. Not knowing what to expect I started packing, my mother crying, how can I blame her? The bus to the camp blowing its horn. I said goodbye. At that time my country was in need for soldiers, we had been attacked by a nearby country, and we were running out of soldiers as we were losing, at this point they were so desperate that they started recruiting everyone who was fit enough to fight. At the camp I received a three days basic training before I was sent to hell. Our mission was quite simple but not easy, the enemy was attacking, and all we had to do was to hold the enemy off for two days until the other team can evacuate the city. On our way to the city the guy sitting next to me looked at my eyes he saw the fear that I wasn’t hiding, Trying to comfort me he asked me : ( do you believe in fate? ), I remembered my father’s face when he was telling me about fate and God. But at that time of my life I wasn’t sure what fate is, do we make our own fate? I didn’t choose to be a part of this war. It all looked like a puzzle, a broken glass, the more that I try to fix it, the more it cuts my hands, and the picture in it keeps shifting. I didn’t know what to say so I sat there silently. After a 10 hour journey we arrived at the battle field, we had a field camp to call a base. As soon as I sat foot on land the commander in action grabbed my hand and took me behind the field camp, on the way he asked about my name and profession, When I told him I was an engineer he immediately asked me “have ever killed someone?” terrified I answered “No.” he looked at and said “Son if you are going to survive at this hellhole you have to learn how to how to kill. And there is a first time for everything”. There was a small wooden room behind the camp. It was very dark with a small light hanging in the middle. Two chairs and a table, I instantly knew it was an interrogation room, there was a guard outside the room and a man sitting in one of the chairs in the room, he had a dark skin yet, His face was awfully white. It was very bloody with interrogation mark all over his body. The commander looked at him and said: (So you are trying to be a hero, eh?) the man crying looked at the commander and said: (I don’t know anything, I told you, I swear) the commander said: (then you die) he smiled at me and handed me a pistol, and sarcastically said to me: (it’s your time to shine) and he left the room. I looked at the man’s eyes, tears running down his face, he was helpless, he was horrified but I was sure I was more horrified than him, I didn’t even know what had he done to deserve death, I didn’t have the time to think, I aimed the pistol, closed my eyes, and I pulled the trigger, it was a cold blooded murder. I walked outside the room the commander wasn’t there, I never saw him again. I took a look at the battle field it looked like a bee hive, everybody was running at every direction, someone shouted my name, I answered he gave me a rifle, told me where my position was, I was to take control of an anti-missile, it had a very simple control system, and since I was an engineer I was able to get control of it fast. I was very pleased to know I didn’t have to shoot anyone again. But still every time I thought about how I killed that man I got terrified and I started to throw up. That day finally came to an end without any waves of the enemy, but I knew tomorrow would be a long day, I couldn’t sleep, every time I slept I dreamt of that man, the way he looked at me haunted me, I thought about his family, his wife, his kids, his mother. Late that night I had a call from my mother, she was crying, she was so worried about me, I comforted her, I told her I loved her and I hung up, I started thinking about my mother, what if I didn’t
    answer that call? What will happen to her? How can I ever look at my mother again? How could I tell her that her beloved son took away a man’s life? I remembered the man’s face, I started crying. “It’s not fair” that’s the only I could think about, It’s not fair for me to be here, it’s not fair for me to lose my life for something I don’t even believe in; for something I didn’t choose, It’s not fair for my father, my mother to lose their son, all the people whom I loved; is it fair just to lose them like that, I thought about all of my fellow fighters that we lost, Is it fair that they just die alone in the middle of the desert? What were there dreams? I’m sure they didn’t want to die like dogs in desert without even the privilege to be buried, why? What makes us fight? I couldn’t understand death, it seemed the most injustice thing, how come an honest man and a criminal lie dead next to each other? Why does it have to end in that inevitable way; death? My mind couldn’t take it anymore, I got up from my bed, I went out, looked up, the sky was blue, the moon shining, why wouldn’t it? It doesn’t fight, it doesn’t care if I died, It doesn’t care if all the humans died, it will just keep shining, I envied it, it was very big, I felt very insignificant, I was going crazy. I couldn’t believe in anything but I needed the faith to strengthen me, I fell on my knees, bowed my head and shouted “Oh, Lord! “. I went back to my dormitory, fell on my bed it was cold, I remembered the way my mother warm look when she tells me she loves me, it made me feel warm.
    I woke up early the next morning, looked around, I found a man burying his brother, alone, I started helping him I looked at his brother, he died in an explosion, his face was very scary, he was damaged, his hand was missing, he looked like a beast, I couldn’t bury him. I took position, I was so hungry; I haven’t ate in two days, but I couldn’t care less about that, at 12:00 the enemy forces were attacking, I was watching from behind, I saw men falling some dead and some alive bleeding to death. Bloods of honest men coming together with dirt it all created a red carpet beneath us, the noise was unbearable, the sounds of guns, tanks firing, Bullets were everywhere firing, one missed my head with less than an inch, the heat of it cut a small wound on my forehead, I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if it just went by a less than an inch to my direction, I looked behind, a man was pointing his rifle at me, I couldn’t reach my rifle, I remembered the pistol I had I pulled it … and I fired but I missed, the man started laughing, he was about to pull his trigger unconsciously I fired again, I didn’t know what me shoot again maybe it was the urge in all of us to survive, I looked back at the monitor, on the radar I saw something moving very fast, it was a missile. It was so close to the base that if I fired it will explode above the base and kill us all, but it wasn’t headed towards the base but to the city, I had only two choices either I fired at it and took a risk that it will kill everyone In the base or I let it destroy the city and kill everyone there, the commander ordered me to stand by, but I couldn’t, looked up to the sky I seen it, I fired but it was too late, everything went white. I woke up, looked around I thought I was dead, I was at a hospital, all my friends and family around me, they told me I saved all the soldiers In the base, I saved a thousand soldiers, they told me I was a hero, I closed my eyes, remembered when I was a kid I asked my father what is a hero? I never knew one day I was going to be the answer to my question



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    A Devilish Robot
    Writer 10 from Khartoum:
    By Yusra Hussein Ibrahim

    Most of us have their memories about their birthdays , the birthday cake , the gifts , who attended & who didn't , & what was the most terrific present you got , well some of us as well had extraordinary events on their birthday & I had my own story on that …
    It was the month of October , autumn was packing & getting ready to leave for winter to take place , it was getting cold outside , the streets were almost empty , nothing but tree leaves carried by the early cold wind of winter , all the houses had dim lights except our house , straking lights were shinning through the windows , a lot of people were there " neighbors & friends " celebrating my 12th birthday , I received many dazzling gifts , played , made pranks & went even dumber than the three stooges , everybody was happy & everything was going smoothly. Then it started to rain heavily , a thunderstorm shouted , few minutes later the lights went off , I used to have nyctophobia so darkness formed my worst fears & the rains & thunderstorms played a great role in making me shake very hard , all the elements of fear gathered in my head just only one critical element was missing , Mrs. Dreary ..
    Mrs. Dreary was an old widow lived in a huge house on a neighboring hill standing all by itself , some rumors said it was built over a bad witch's grave so her devilish spirit came up & settled in the house , Mrs. Dreary had bad reputation , people said she used to be a mannerly well-liked lady before the strange death of her husband fifteen years ago , some people said she went mad , others said she ecocided & this moving body was her ghost but all stayed rumors , no one knew what had really came upon her ..
    However , she decided to come & smudge my party , when she arrived a moment of silence took over , she said " knock knock , here I am " as if she was welcomed " where is the birthday child ? " she said while she was coming straight towards me , a lightning strike made me see her cold smile , she got a folded box out of her satchel & gave it to me " Happy birthday Norah , you'll have the wildest fun with this , enjoy " she said & went out directly , the guests were pleased but no one wanted to know what she had given me , they wanted to forget about her , & so was I ..
    Later on that night I went to my room , took a deep sigh & unfolded Mrs.Dreary's gift , surprisingly it was the grooviest gift , a ferric, small , blackish blue robot toy , it had tow cables on its head , blue eyes , incised neck & millions & millions of gears , I bet it could do more than 200 moves , but it has no remote control , I looked on & in the box for a using guide but the only information was " Astro is irrefragable , indestructible & incombustible robot toy " no trade mark no number , just this , I turned it on… a sound of moving gears came out then it started to walk about then an electric spark blazed over its head , it turned around , smiled & said : " Norah , let's play " .. a shudder thrilled through my body , I thought it was some kind of demons so I ran to mum telling her in stumble words what happened , mum followed me upstairs , the robot was standing peacefully on the floor ! mum calmed me down & said maybe I was tired of the party & Mrs. Dreary's visit , she refolded the robot I thought it would be better if she took it to her room , & so it was , then I went to bed but certainly that wasn't one of my best nights ..
    Loud sounds of crashing disturbed my sleep , I opened my eyes to find Astro standing over my head " Sorry for waking you up , but it's my play time " Asrto said & smiled !! in a second I was at my mum's room door shaking like an old bole , I knocked the door so hard but she didn't open , Astro was coming towards me saying " Norah will play with Astro " , I kept on knocking still there was no reply , Astro came closer , then I thought It was better to run ..
    Sunlight hit my face , I was lying on our garden , every muscle in my body ached like hell , my eyes were red , I went inside , mum looked at me & said " seems you had a terrible night " didn't she hear anything from last night ?? but that wasn't a surprise , maybe Astro washed her brain ! I didn't reply just went to get ready for school , at the door Astro said " See you later " I ignored it & went away ,, everything went so well at school . I came back home there was no mark for Astro till it was bed time when the same episode of chasing repeated , & this was the case for the next two weeks, he even used an electric shock against me once !. I got really sick , my participation in classes decreased , I got detention many times for sleeping during lessons & once for bringing my toy - Astro – to school & using it to disturb teachers . Eventually my parents thought I had hyper-nychtophobia & started taking me to a therapist !.
    people thought I was getting mad , so one day I thought that was it , I had to bring that robot to an end though knowing it was unbreakable . At night I wore a helmet , held my baseball rocket & got ready for a decisive battle , few minutes later I saw it coming out of his box , I thought it seemed as if it had grown bigger , his eye went red & that electric sparkle over his head ! seemed it prepared for the battle too .. as he was getting closer I was getting more afraid , I thought about mum , dad , friends & all the people I know , I didn't say goodbye to them , I might not see them again .. then I thought there was no turning back , I've lived nights of hell , so I stood , ran towards it & hit it with the rocket but the rocket broke into two pieces ! I crocked & ran away , it was stepping steady behind me then he started to run , my leg flexed on the stairs & I fell off , I saw Astro standing over my head I felt the heat of his rolling gears burning my forehead , he looked at me for few seconds then laughed & touched my head " I caught you , now it's your turn , catch me if you can " Only at that moment I realized what Mrs. Deary meant with wild fun ! then he moved away & I passed away ..
    I woke next morning my parents were beside my bed , there was no mark for Astro, not even a clue , I was thinking I should see Mrs. Dreary at the moment , so jumped off the bed ran heading to Mrs. Dreary's , mum tried to stop me but she couldn't , I found Mrs. Dreary watering her garden , curiosity was killing me so went ahead & asked her what was Astro , she smiled & said " Astro was designed by some neuroscientists , it was designed to sense the nerves & connect to the brain using an electric field effect so it could interfere the neural signals & create a whole new world in your imagination ,when you touch it all your memories & information proceed to its processor, it was designed to control the signals that cause the sense of fear in order to heal phobias then make you get over your fears by forcing you to face them , after it accomplishes the mission it destroys itself. I've been told you're frightened by darkness so I thought maybe I could help " . I had mixed feelings of astonishment happiness, grateful that all of that was not real & I was so obliged for Mrs. Dreary ..


    ******
    ******
    Those were the topics of the three winners of the Ghada Award English and the group of seven best who were
    all considered equal in 4th place and were given the same recognition prizes.
    We congratulate them all and celebrate their confidence for the sheer thought of competing against such
    a wide host of their peers.
    asha.




                  

Arabic Forum

01-06-2013, 08:48 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    This is the text of a random participant in the Ghada Award for Young Writers..
    (unedited).
    *****************
    *****************

    Writer:
    Nafeesa Ibrahim Ahmed Abusamra

    DREAMS
    Many people talk about how dreams change their lives. It is a pleasure to think about dreams and sharing them is even a bigger pleasure. So how about sharing with you one that changed a life that was mine? My life changed to the better after I had that dream. But it wasn’t a normal dream; it was a nightmare.
    Although it is not real, a dream teaches you but not like school, like you don’t have to bring a pencil and a paper to write. It makes you think about them and their meaning makes your brain bigger and wider and has a sense of discovery.
    When I had this dream, I knew what I want to be in the future. Thinking in my mind about it, made me think also how interesting it is to be a psychologist, an interesting job! A chance one gets to express one feelings and thoughts on the other people’s problems and a challenge of finding solutions to them.
    Let’s get back to the main subject, my nightmare…it goes like this: I open my eyes to the annoying noise of my brothers and sisters, to find myself inside my room which looked totally new and my dad was busily getting something fixed in the room. Mom was nagging there are more important things to spend the money on while on the other side there was a fight going on between my siblings (boys vs. girls). A normal scene especially when you live in a household of three girls and three boys. The fight was over and each one went and sat in their places. Silence reigned over the room. I was surprised. They told me they want to watch T.V... (We live in a small house and we have one T.V. outside the room).
    Until now, normal dream, but nothing stays normal in a nightmare. As we were watching TV there was some feeling that came over me. The feeling of insecurity and in reaction to that I stared at the floor; I don’t know why I did this particularly. It is weird to look at the floor when you feel insecure, isn’t it? Then I heard the voice of a female; I say a female as it wasn’t clear whether she is a little girl, a teenager or a grown up woman>. It was evil but at the same time kind! The place started to get colder and colder and I wished this would stop but there had to be more. I stood up cold and shivering body trying to get out of the room and find my mum to hide behind her. As I tried to find my way out, I saw this figure of a woman coming out of the TV. She was a strange looking woman. I didn’t know if she was an angel or a devil or just simply a strange looking woman. She was a fine looking lady. She was wearing this fancy dress that was completely torn into stripes that were flying around her. She was laughing the laugh of an angry woman who seeks revenge from someone or something. I felt charmed by her. Walking towards my biggest fears was the stupidest thing I could do but at that moment I was doing it for no good reason.
    However, reality slapped my face in the middle of the way when I looked at my brothers and sisters and found them frozen like sculptures without making even a tiny move. I tried to wake them up but as I touched their skin it felt like touching a cold solid rock that just came out of a freezer. At my touch, they suddenly changed into dust and flew away with the cold wind! I looked around me to figure out where the walls and everything were. Imagine yourself standing in complete darkness with no one beside you. Even my shadow that is always following me at times when I want to be alone was gone.
    “Hold your tears,” my mind was telling me. The laugh from that woman was torturing me; hearing it over and over again while I stood alone in the darkness. The only feeling at that moment that anyone can have is scariness. I felt like a child lost in a huge mall (which happened to me once when I was six years old). So I did what the child would do; I let go of my trapped tears and shouted for my mom. No one answered me because no one heard me
                  

Arabic Forum

01-28-2013, 11:10 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    As I noticed that over 800 readers have passed through here.
    Iam grateful for the time they have given to stop and see these young writers attempts.
    I felt encouraged to post some more works which , though didn"t get a prize, I think are
    worthy of being published as good attempts.

    *************

    A Poem

    By Wa'ad AbaYazeed Alsheikh (from Aljazeera State)

    I will leave you now
    Everything I say, it will be in the past!
    Everything I make, it will be washed fast.
    I remember that, you were my soul.
    I remember that you played a certain role.
    But there's one way
    You should see now.
    There you would just say
    I love you my friend, oh wow!!
    But you did it all alone.
    When I could make a happy home
    You always saw me as a bad ride.
    When I was even in a rise
    You should really realize
    That I put hope in your wise
    That's why, I am leaving now
    Allowing you to live your own life
    I want you to remember my cute smile
    When my face was shining all that while
    Now I really want you to know.
    That your love my friend, would never go
                  

Arabic Forum

01-28-2013, 11:15 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    A Poem

    Ignorance
    By Mathani Eltayeb Elbasheer Ahmed Taha

    Ignorance sneaked his way
    To the nation
    After it had a great deal of knowledge.
    But ignorance
    Uncaged the dark ages and loosened its cuffs
    It was rapacious and frenzy
    It showed its teeth and claws
    To the face of knowledge
    Taking its vengeance.
    Ignorance opened a door for poverty
    And corruption, they followed him
    Lowering the world again.
    People of this world
    Take God in the right hand
    And knowledge in the left.
    Together we shall emphasize knowledge again
    And bury ignorance.

    Comment:
    I think this is beautiful! asha
                  

Arabic Forum

01-28-2013, 11:44 PM
Asma Abdel Halim
<aAsma Abdel Halim
Registered: 05-01-2006
Total Posts: 1028





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    salam Asha:
    I keep coming back for more. so far i read three amazing stories and on my way to read the fourth one.
    They are so talented!!!!!
    are all the contributions in English? any in Arabic?
    The 20 years coma is beautiful, sad and funny, it also reflects some hope for Khartoum in the next 20 years.
    asma
                  

Arabic Forum

01-29-2013, 03:34 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Quote:

    I keep coming back for more. so far i read three amazing stories and on my way to read the fourth one.
    They are so talented!!!!!
    are all the contributions in English? any in Arabic?
    The 20 years coma is beautiful, sad and funny, it also reflects some hope for Khartoum in the next 20 years.
    asma
    ))))))

    Thank you Dr. Asma!
    They should be proud to have you for a reader...

    Contributors wrote in both English (44), and Arabic(170 0r more).
    I published the Aeabic winners' works in the Arabic Board and will bring the link here for you and others interested
    to read.
    Yes, I hope next year you can make it to the event, it is really promising of better years to come...
    We are now in the process of running workshops and discussion groups lead by older and professional writers
    and critics to help the young writers and answer their questions.
                  

Arabic Forum

01-29-2013, 11:43 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Sorry Asma seems we didn't transfer the post to the new quarter...
    But there is good info and vedios if you Google: Announcing winners of the Ghada Award for Young Writers.
    Third Contest.
    *************

    Nonwinners' contributions:

    Yusra was first winner of the First Award Contest, and one of the ten winners
    of the Second Award Contest..
    Her writing reflects a well developed talent which needs the final touches to
    the introduction of the stylish writer!


    My deep love and affection towards children
    (Yusra A Abdelaziz Abdelmoneim)
    Topic: A personal series of experiences and encounters that relate to children and attempt to appreciate the value of children in our lives and why is it that we hear the term that children are God’s blessing so often?

    I’ve always loved children and babies. I remember as a child my favourite dolls were those baby shaped ones that you’d have to nurture and take care of as it was a real life baby. I’d bathe the dolls, pretend to feed them and ‘’breast feed’’ them. Baseline is: I’ve loved children ever since I can remember.
    But as I grew older, I started to realise that not all babies and children were being physically taken care of as I presumed. Some children were literally being abandoned on the streets as babies, some were left to die and some taken to orphanages. I became aware of all this after a short visit to the Mygoma orphanage that left me in tears, that hit me hard and led me into accepting the undeniable reality that many thousands of children are faced with. Alhamdoulilah, for a safety net programme such as Mygoma and the other few orphanages across Sudan, but all they really do is succeed in providing a shelter, because at the end of the day a majority of the children are likely to grow into economically unproductive and psychiatrically impaired adults, mainly due to the negligence of their biological so-called “parents”. I personally don’t want to speak of them negatively because God knows which circumstances they were facing that led to them taking such a heartless and selfish decision and as humans no one is entitled to point a finger and make an assertive judgement concerning anybody because God is our only true judge because God judges on what He knows to be true, and since when has God placed any of us in a position to judge other people’s lives and decisions.
    However, I was very fortunate to get to know a woman (no names mentioned), as I was studying abroad who adopted a blind child from the Mygoma orphanage, nurtured him and took care of him as her own. I was blown away, I was very lucky to meet the two of them, and she taught me a very valuable lesson in life and that is: how a not-so-simple act of charity that very few in this world can carry out can turn a person’s life upside down and transform it into a much better one. In the words of Ghandi: To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand ######### bowing in prayer.
    Furthermore, while I was studying in the UK I volunteered at an after school play club, it was an inclusion project that consisted of mostly disabled children, that suffered from autism, ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), asperger syndrome and down-syndrome. I had to attend a four week induction course that taught me all about children who suffered from either of the four disabilities. I had to attend sessions where there would be young adults who would describe their lives from their perspective and how suffering from either of the four illnesses affected their lives. It literally shocked me how everything that they’d experienced, down to their five senses felt different. That experience taught me not to take ANYTHING in life for granted and to be grateful each and every day with your life that you have because there’s somebody out there that would love to switch places with you in a heartbeat. Sometimes a lot of us just tend to forget how blessed we are, then God gives you a little reminder and you know you are just where you were to meant to be.
    Even during my summer vacation I felt the urge to be around children, so I took the initiative and took up the role of volunteer at Unity High School as an assistant for reception class. That experience taught me that children are the only people that can bring you to the brink of insanity and you will still love them the next day and that there is no brighter light than the smile of a child. But, what really grabbed my attention during this experience was this one child who was so disciplined that i realised that the best thing a parent can do for their child is to teach and pass onto them good morals and integrity. This child had so much respect for everyone around him and he spoke with such maturity that didn’t seem to match his age. That got me thinking how I’d end up raising my own children, and that thought both seemed to frighten and excite me. I remember during my first few weeks at the school a lot of the parents would stick around and spy on their kids through the windows and I kept thinking to myself “ what is wrong with those parents, why are they so attached”, I couldn’t seem to relate and I don’t now either, seeing as I have no children and don’t intend on having any anytime soon, but I felt like I got a taste of what it felt for them to leave their children for just a few hours when I had to say my goodbyes to the kids. I was so devastated, I cried my eyes out because I knew I wouldn’t be seeing them anytime soon and notice how I had only known those children for almost a month! Children are most definitely a precious gift from God to cherish.
    So the moral of this short story regarding my past experiences with children is that regardless of whether the children are orphanaged, come from privileged backgrounds or are disabled, they are entitled to be unconditionally loved both physically and emotionally and deserve to be showered with tender loving care.
                  

Arabic Forum

01-30-2013, 02:14 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    One more poem all the way from Nyala.....


    Letter To My Dear Father
    by Samah Mohammed Ahmed
    From Nyala

    The song of midnight cried out.
    I truly hate being alone more than anything
    From that day on I learned that the hard way is important.
    The stars lay in the sky and play their twinkling sound
    Everyday without even being told to be more open,
    I am sitting on a chair remembering when I made that mistake.
    I wish if it never ended with a heartbreak..
    But now you are away and I am thinking why..
    With tears in my eyes,
    If I had a chance, I would make it right.
    If I had a chance I would never make you sad
    But now you are gone and I am alone
    And time goes by and I spend it away from you.
    I have been missing you like crazy.
    I found your letters
    They still smell just like you
    And your sweet memories.
    Yours is the voice I hear inside my head.
    The reason I am writing you this masterpiece is that
    I need to finish the song inside of me.
    The song of midnight cried out.
    I truly hate being alone more than anything.
    All I need is to be able to scoop happiness with a tiny spoon,
    As long as I have you to share it with.
                  

Arabic Forum

03-11-2013, 09:08 AM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Watch two of our winning young writers speaking on

    Blue Nile (BNT) برنامج مساء جديد
    Wednesday 13th March after 5:00 p.m.

    Expected guests are:
    Ameen Abdullahi El Ameen El Sheikh, Ninth winner of the English writing
    Manasik Hatim El Tahir, Third winner of Arabic writing

    The choice is just made by availability as most of the others are either
    outside the country or living through the pressures of final examinations.

    We wish them all success...
                  

Arabic Forum

03-31-2013, 12:16 PM
Siham Elmugammar
<aSiham Elmugammar
Registered: 06-18-2004
Total Posts: 3488





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Dear Khatlo Asha

    what you are doing here is really great..

    thanks Raja and Assam for your support
                  

Arabic Forum

04-04-2013, 07:04 PM
عائشة موسي السعيد
<aعائشة موسي السعيد
Registered: 07-10-2010
Total Posts: 1638





Re: Aftermath for GAFYW Annual Event... (Re: عائشة موسي السعيد)

    Salam Siham......
    I don't believe that you are here!
    Asma says this is only for "oldies" as she decided to call us...
    However, it takes a brave woman to admit she is old...
    But I wouldn't tell Mujtaba you are accepted here.

    Yes, and our young writers have a lot of readers here...
    Young and old.
    So do come back and contribute.

    We would light a candle for Ghada wherever we can.....
                  

Arabic Forum

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