HOME SCREAM HOME: Egypt’s Electricity Crisis

Electricity Cut

I’m writing this in the dark.

It’s 9:39pm and the lights are out.

The window is slightly open and I can hear three or four kids playing hide and seek. I am reminded of my age as my mind searches for a bazooka, ready to let it rip for some peace of mind.

Thankfully the screaming stops. Maybe someone killed them before I could. Either way, it’s rather quiet now. The perfect setting for a short story…

It’s my third day back from the land of golden glitz and obnoxious Brits. The weather in Dubai was sticky, sandy and rainy. After one week there, my body felt more like a junkyard than a wonderland. It was dying… dying to go home.

On the plane, I could tell straight away we were home because the plane was suddenly engulfed by a brooding smog. It shouldn’t be called “Cairo Air Space”, it should be called “Cairo Gasp for Air Space”.

As soon as we touched down, everybody started clapping. It’s not unusual Egyptian behaviour, but I did find myself applauding along with everyone for two reasons:

First, anyone who can land a plane in “The Mist” deserves a medal.

Second, I guess I’m just thankful our plane didn’t disappear.

We got off the bus and were surprised to see the passport queue almost reaching outside the building. The lovely Cairo Airport management decided to fuck with everyone by only operating two passport booths. Two passport booths for 400 people. Lovely!

3 hours later I was telling the taxi driver that if he loves his kids, he should slow the F down. I finally arrived home and guess what? The lights were out.

Welcome home!

The next day, I left work at 5pm wanting to catch the Tottenham vs. Arsenal game that was starting at 6pm. I arrived at 7pm. “It’s ok,” I told myself throwing my jacket over the armchair, kicking off my shoes and turning on the TV. I sunk into the couch and started watching the second half. My team were losing 1-0 and I was pissed off.

But that didn’t stop the light from cutting did it?

It’s the third day.

I’m writing this in the dark.

It’s 10:14 pm and the lights are still out.

I’m happy I wrote this.

I feel better.

It’s 10:21pm.

The lights are back.

Allah yenawar!

It’s 10:24pm.

I miss the dark.


WE SAID THIS: Welcome to our lives – clockwork power cuts have become the norm at the Empire offices, too!