Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
In 1953,
A Day When the Egyptian Police Said “NO”… and Colonialism Was Broken
In Ismailia,
the morning was not ordinary.
Rifles surrounded the walls,
and orders rained down, demanding surrender.
They told them:
Come out…
Lay down your arms…
Silence answered first.
Then a man stepped forward,
his chest bare
except for his homeland.
He said:
We die… but we do not surrender Egypt.
Words shattered,
gunfire erupted,
yet it found nothing
but men
who swore to be
the final wall.
A policeman fell
embracing his rifle
as if it were his child.
Another fell
while closing the station door
so humiliation would not enter.
The bullets were many,
they were few…
but history
does not count numbers,
it measures the stance.
There,
with every step backward,
the homeland moved forward.
And with every martyr,
Egypt
was born anew.
From their blood,
the twenty-fifth of January
became a national day—
not merely for celebration,
but as a reminder
that stability has a price,
and that true men
do not retreat
when the homeland calls.
