The magazine

Responsibility

He is the most interactive and has a leadership tendency. Shawkat's spirit gradually spread to the rest of the team. They turned into a burning ember of activity. The period specified for each group ended, and the group nominated Shawkat to be its official spokesperson. Shawkat stood confidently presenting the ideas and analyzes reached by the group, then answered the questions of the lecturer and the other group. He finished his task, and the hall burst into applause from both groups.
The first day of training ended, Shawkat rode his car back to the house, grabbed his phone and called Nabil and thanked him for the success of his plan. Nabil had finished receiving the application documents from the applicants for the position of the guard. A few hours and his shift ended, he decided to visit his aunt Shams, what changed In his life now because of her last words to him on his last visit, he was sad to hear him at the time, but she proved that she was right as usual. He managed to achieve what she asked him to orbit him, not him orbiting them. His father's behavior changed a lot, even if Shweikar was on her terms as it is.
Shawkat arrived at the building where he lives. Shweikar's car is in its garage. He got off his car and in moments he was exiting the elevator door. He opened the door of the apartment and headed towards the balcony where Shweikar was sitting. But she was not there, certainly not in the living room, as he passed through it while he was on his way to the balcony; And this is not the time for her to sleep. He went back to the living room and called her. The response came from the kitchen. He was amazed that she was there. She is not used to standing in the kitchen. She might make herself a cup of tea or coffee, but there is a smell that reaches his nose, which means that someone is cooking. In the kitchen now, when he approached the kitchen, he heard the sound of something being fried in oil. He entered the kitchen and found Shweikar standing alone in the kitchen, frying some chicken. He looked at her in amazement and said:
- Is it possible that you cook!
She looked at him and said:
- Today you will eat from my hands, my love.
- I can't believe my eyes.. This almost hasn't happened in ten years.
- I saw how much I love you.. I made you pasta and brownies.
He wanted to laugh mockingly at the meal she was giving him. Imagine if his mother was still alive and had to eat this fried chicken. This type of chicken that some call "white chicken" or "ministry chicken" is unknown to his mother even if she did. What she admitted and refused to put in her mouth no matter what, and she would have been amazed at the way it was cooked, chicken fried in oil! What disaster is this?! Doomsday must have approached.
Where is this chicken from his mother's chickens, who used to raise and take care of him in a coop designated for that? When he came back on Thursdays from the Military College, she would choose a fat chicken for him, slaughter it, clean it, then stuff it with spiced rice, boil it, and then fry it in municipal ghee. He liked this method, but he didn't come back He has been savoring it for decades, his mother died and he lived with Shweikar, who knew nothing of the art of cooking except boiling eggs and pasta and frying pieces of chicken breast that she bought ready-seasoned, but this does not mean that the way she presented such a simple meal made him dazzled.
Pasta in the plate as if stacked one by one, pieces of chicken on the side of the plate decorated with fresh vegetables, a large plate of salad in the middle of the table in which the colors of vegetables overlapped from green, red, white and yellow in different degrees, packages of ketchup and mayonnaise placed in an elegant basket, finely sliced loaves of bread in another basket Shawkat learned to eat with his eyes, and there is no need for his tongue to be the master of this situation.
He does not know why he craves to eat his mother now, perhaps from the pictures he saw during training about life in Shalateen, those lands are still virgin, the sea is clear with shades of blue and a mixture of green, mangrove trees spread on the beach and in the middle of the water, simple small boats remind him his little village by the lake.
Shawkat recalled that in his childhood he used to like to sit on the shore of the canal in their town watching the boat of Naji the fisherman's uncle as it roamed the canal. He would watch him cast his net and it would open like a big flower before it sank into the water, then he would walk on the beach alongside the boat until Naji would collect his net loaded with different types of The fish, the tilapia, the dakmak, the karkur, and the Nile eel. What amazed him most was the catfish (catfish) with its long mustaches and soft skin that was difficult for him to hold. As soon as he tried to catch it, it slipped from his hands, and those catfish remained alive for hours while they were out of the water. Shawkat watched them utter Her last breath, but this did not happen in front of him, not once. His mother comes and slaughters her as she slaughters birds. Then he goes away leaving his mother and her work. He goes out to play with his peers in the streets of the village and does not return until shortly before sunset. All over the house, he and his mother and father gather around the drum as steam rises from the pottery casserole, which is filled to the brim.With delicious pieces of fish mixed with slices of onions and tomatoes, he devoured as much of it as he could to let his exhausted body become paralyzed from playing and fell asleep in its place.
Will he find something similar to these fish in the Shalatin Sea? And if he found it; Who will cook it for him in the same way as his mother? He smiled as he nibbled a piece of roasted chicken while answering his question: "Shwikar Bagga or any of her companions." He repeated it to himself while laughing, while Shweikar believes that his laughter is because he is happy with her wonderful cooking.
Shawkat finished his meal and told Shweikar some details about what happened on his first training day. Of course, he told her many details, especially those that she can be happy and proud of. Shweikar will add to her many details that did not happen tomorrow morning to the club's friends. She might say that Shawkat is her husband. The former general was the one who was the trainer and gave them a lot of his experience. Perhaps the current governors were with him in the training and he outperformed them with the trainers' testimony.
Shweikar believes that the club's friends believe her in everything she says, and the truth is that they do not believe much of what she tells them, just as she does not believe most of what they say. They are just fantasies. If one of the drama makers in our country sat among them, he would have produced series that are much better than those shown on television.
Shawkat went to the living room after he washed his hands and opened his leather bag. He took out the notes on the law and the constitution and began to read and study them well and write down his notes in a notebook of his own, but there is something that bothers him. There is a huge difference between the theory in these papers and the actual practical work on the ground. How could someone who took responsibility reconcile the two? A question that bewildered him, but he tried to hide it now and bury it in the folds of his mind. Perhaps after he finishes the training in full, he will find an adequate answer to this question. It is also possible that when he receives his work in reality, he will find under his hand some of the mechanisms that help him reach this.
***
Eight o'clock in the evening struck in Nabil's office room at the police station. He had collected all the applications of the applicants in one envelope, wrote a folder for him and sent it to the Security Directorate. His official working hours ended and he prepared to leave. He got into his car after completing all the official procedures for handing over and handing over, and headed towards the palace of his aunt Shams.
The roads were crowded at this time of the evening. He got stuck more than once in the traffic lights crowded with cars. After more than an hour and a half, he reached the direct road leading to the palace. He noticed that there was a motorcycle standing on the corner of the street, and two young men were standing next to it in a dark area. Nabil could not verify From their features, but he was apprehensive about their presence in this way, he hurried in the car and watched them in the mirror, but they did not move or try to catch up with him.