Slaps of Discrimination That Uplifted Minorities from the Swamp and Cast Them into the Abyss

By Mohamed Khaled

Those who believed that grasses stirred the struggle of elephants failed to realize that the mind itself is the seed of the first poisons. Some approached the flame thinking it was painted with colors, while the jester-like hues of the Middle Ages fought butterflies with fig branches, and prohibitions rose in places attempting to hide truths. In these crowded arenas, some possessed ancient skulls within abandoned lairs, seeking to control truth while others searched for even the smallest trace of it.

Delirium was not mere confusion; it was an escape from confronting the mad nuclei woven by the rulers of time. Slaps fell in succession, arms intertwined, and someone whispered in the victim’s ear: “We will go to ask for forgiveness, and you will come with us. It does not matter if you are not guilty!” Souls were thus sent with a measure of pardon, only to return empty, searching for grasses again, as if freedom remained elusive to all.

At that stage, anyone who lifted their gaze believed the earth was beneath the sky, the sky above the earth, and they themselves in the middle. They bought tricks to see their naïveté soar, falling far without meeting the evening or colliding with the ground. Some tried to trace the paths of wayward doctrines toward the sunset, thinking the sunset would uproot sins, but awareness directed them straight toward other adversaries. Returning from there resembled nothing else, as if you saw your reflection weakly in the mirror, your spirit surrounded by a thorny, skeptical cloud.

I remember the first glance toward my other self, the first words I uttered: “May God bless the dominion of fools as long as it is customary that knowledge is a sin if it inspires disobedience!”

Here, discrimination appears not as an isolated event but as an extended pattern, practiced at every available opportunity to affirm inherited folly. Donning the hat took precedence over consulting the head, and the greatest danger lay in wearing that hat unconsciously.

In the classification of beings according to their minds, humans emerge from the top of the pyramid as the most foolish creatures, celebrating their incomplete selves, proclaiming themselves half-gods, passing neuroticities, and legislating exclusion.

What amazes truly is the fool in the vast field who borrowed the calendar to declare the journey of the masses toward the majority, where numbers and algorithms became tools to legitimize destruction.

I tried to transform tragedies into fertile mental mockeries until I began experiencing freedom, gathering thousands of accounts of the first miracles of slaves, and approving the first law prohibiting slavery. Yet the climb, even if it proved you had a head, did not guarantee safety; the greatest danger remained in the hat you display to the world unprepared.

In an era when tyranny and oppression are practiced openly, eyes are drawn toward changing perspectives, while traitors dominate every corner. If you are in the midst of a corner, how can you reach anywhere? The corner can swallow you the moment you try to cross it, and attempts to escape death may lead to exile, so you must not stop trying.

After several attempts, I found a window opening onto awareness, yet it was closed.

Every cell that had struggled to share freedoms witnessed butterflies burning, but love does not burn; it can defeat colonies, borders, the escalating insomnia of doctrines, and the densities of a thousand faces.

After all those conflicts, love remains alive, so do not seek the sacred crown with the victors, it is a myth made to pour all avenues of love that will not burn.

The bird was alone, knowing it could confront, yet unable to wait. What crept inside it could be seen at the corners of its lips, not a literal reflection but a matching fracture. Perhaps this later caused its heart to split. Since when have we walked toward closed caves? Perhaps since we realized that the chasm we feared falling into had been hidden within us from the start.

The bird chose to belong to the falcons and decided to migrate with them, but the falcons told it it would not be welcome upon return, for blind submission does not make anyone equal.

Thus, it possessed its own cage, thinking it had gained freedom, yet the reality is that even a cage without bars still imposes limits on freedom; even choice becomes constrained by surrounding circumstances.

Here we face the dilemma of ships that depart with bodies only; they do not carry memory, and emotions travel only in fragments. The harbor embraces you, but the bells toll without return. In this meeting you thought you were observing, you were invited alone, the trap lying in joining the game despite feeling isolated.

Life burns you at times, whether by approaching the bottles or moving away from them, for both endanger the spirit. When you discover you have no wings, you craft a flying throat, soaring with words, clinging to freedom as if on a lifelong journey. Even wolves, when their howls disappear, embark on a new journey, transcending walls and creating their own path.

The cold room’s door closes eyes, burns hearts, and becomes a guardian of sectarianism and false belief. Belief alone does not open eyes nor close rooms until wisdom emerges.

At the end of the slaps, there was a bird seeking freedom, refusing to leave the cage, believing that love and liberty do not burn and that truth remains worth pursuing despite all constraints and risks.

Ultimately, the slaps of discrimination, closed walls, and symbolic hats remain part of the history of minorities and their ongoing struggles. Yet they are also a call for awareness, freedom, and love that does not burn—a cry against all constraints and oppressions, and a message that freedom is a choice, and that the right to a dignified life for every human being cannot be taken away.

Mohamed Khaled – Egyptian writer and novelist

The opinions expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not represent the views of Nisaba Media.