Stella Gaitano Translated into English By Asha El-Said

Stella Gaitano's: I kill myself.....and Rejoice!
Translated by: Asha Musa

The first page of Stella's story: I kill myself....and rejoice!


Vultures hovering around the sky like a flock of flying moustaches. The sky is far away, blue, sunny and scorching. And I am choked swallowing my tears, filled with the terror looming around me. But my heart doesn’t beat... maybe I am dead, or pretending to be dead.
I, or to be exact, my corpse is dumped among other corpses...I say other corpses as if I don’t know them. Of course I know them; I know each one of them. This is my brother, and my sister with her baby who didn’t finish breast feeding. This is my troublesome blind father, and that is our religious neighbour in an eternal prostration bow carrying a blood stained Bible and that is the friend with whom I quarrelled yesterday over a glass of rotten wine. This is the Ethiopian merchant, owner of the shabby tavern down the road where we buy cheap wines: (tasker)*, (Nile special)*, and (seven nights)* and we spend a good time. Look at him now! Thrown in dereliction with a look of horror drawn on his swollen face; he would have been more handsome had he been a bit fatter as he looks now. We have all been dumped here in neglect for weeks, in this funny posture that shows no dignity or respect for death.
Stop. I am not sad. May be I really died! Why doesn’t my heart beat or feel sad؟! May be I have to take things more seriously. I am truly dead!
All that I remember is that they came in numbers, carrying all kinds of canons, machine guns, bombers, and hand grenades. Some were infantry soldiers and others in carriages. They looked like us. In fact I thought I saw them with my own eyes that are being eaten by worms now. I saw myself leading an army; we were the army, the killers and the victims at the same time. I thought it was probably phantoms of drunkenness throwing me into a parallel world.
Let me finish the story:

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