EGYPT 2060 (Dystopian Egypt)

December 20th, 2060

I can see rain drops on my window again from the faint street light.

I miss my mother’s morning strolls — I can’t remember the last time the weather was good enough for me to go out.

The TV keeps buzzing and buzzing all night long, and it’s never anything that has to do with us — on the other side. No one pays attention to us anymore. We’re not a global sensation so we’re not worth it. It’s all about their glorious project… why do I even keep it open?

There’s no more coffee in the house, no more bread, so I have to leave my sanctuary in the morning.

January is almost here again.

Exactly 37 more days for the big celebration.

My mother used to tell stories about how the revolution started for a completely different reason. They were protesting for freedom — she said. Now those assholes fill the streets every year, chanting and celebrating the wall; celebrating our isolation.

Freedom they call it.

Surviving they call it.

Fuck them.


December 21st, 2060

I dread the days in which I must leave the house.

Everything is a long dreaded task. The roads are all destroyed from the floods, so getting food, fetching water, going to the prayer are all tasks in need of energy and patience.

It’s the life we grew up in, but I heard that life shouldn’t be this difficult. At least on the other side.


Perhaps I should start looking on the bright side? It’s almost like those old video games, running around in destroyed cities, hiding from monsters like in “The Last Of Us”.. Except that there are no monsters.. There’s just the horrible weather and our amazing authorities.

It’s like, even with no actual villains, everything is waiting on you to die.

This city, the skies — everything is just waiting.

Even you are waiting.


December 22nd, 2060


Let me note down an exciting moment for once! It’s been a while now since anything interesting or exciting happened, but it seems like I’ll be going on an adventure soon.

Farag just called with the news, they can get us inside the city!

For all we have to sell of course, but well….


I keep wondering if I really want to go. I always say how I’m against this wall and how it’s against everything that my morals and ethics stand for. So how can I pay a price to be a part of it? How was I so excited in the morning?

Traitor. Hypocrite.


December 23rd, 2060


I couldn’t sleep — as always.

But tonight it isn’t because of the thunder. Tonight wasn’t because of the nightmares. Tonight isn’t really because of the loneliness.

I guess it’s just guilt.

I can’t stop overthinking about it.

How can they do this to me? Why do I have to be in this position? Choosing between letting go of my morals and actually live, or staying here and slowly wait. What do they expect? Do they want me to stay and die? And once I actually live there, would I escape the guilt? Knowing all the people I see around everyday suffer and just leave?


I can’t ignore the way it felt when Farag called. There was hope, a thirst of adventure, and anticipation of a normal life. Here everyone came to terms with our situation — with our ending. But I don’t want that, I cannot just stay here, I cannot just wait.

I cannot leave a chance like this.


December 24th, 2060

Everything you own.

Everything you love.

Everything that reminds you of who you used to be.

Everything you own.

Everything you love.

Everything that reminds you of who you used to be.

Everything you own.

Everything you love.

Everything that reminds you of who you used to be.

You’ll be someone new anyway, right?

It will never be the same again, right?

Yes, yes, try to get yourself to feel better..


December 25th, 2060

It’s been a long couple of days. Even though the place never felt like home, leaving it was still difficult.

We arrived to Farag’s house just in time to arrange everything we have and leave to the meeting point. And here we are.. being transported in the tank of the water truck, how ironic?

It’s dark, and I can barely write, but my head is filled with worries and wonder, while my heart is burdened with guilt, grief and anticipation.

What lays next is something I cannot guess.

We are 13 people in the truck, condensed together, hidden, with no space to put our feet, and no light, with no air to breathe.

I try thinking of the people around me, reflecting on what might have gotten them here. I mean, of course we’re all here to escape our brutal reality and find a new comfortable life… but what really happened? What did each of these people leave behind?

There’s an old man sitting on my left who has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. What has he lost? Did he lose his wife in the floods? Did he lose his kid?

My mother used to tell me that people got electrocuted in the streets right in front of others from the water. Did he witness someone’s death? Did he see burned flesh?

Sometimes, especially when I remember my mother’s stories — I thank God I haven’t witnessed all these horrific incidents. I wouldn’t be able to run or flee a scene like that — where other people are electrocuted or being washed away.. It’s not like I would know how to help them either.. I can imagine myself just standing there, in astonishment, undecided, and then being washed away myself.

But then again, look at me now, I never thought I’d ever do something like this; people change when it comes to tough choices. And it’s not like we escaped the problem. We’re living in its aftermath.

You can see us all here — exhausted faces, flesh on skin bodies, dry lips, open mouths, hungry, thirsty, gasping for air in this rusty old tank we’re stuck in.

Look at us, there’s a 20 year old looking boy on the other side of me, coughing frantically, gasping for air. Is he asthmatic? We’re all scared and weak and helpless, all of us who are on the other side of the wall. My generation escaped nothing.

The price you have to pay for a chance to live these days…

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