‘The cowards of our revolution, you are overdue on your grave. You have spread fortune to Chad and Mali. Dirtied our reputation. You have the face of a shoe’
These words signify the English translation of an Arabic revolutionary song being sung in unison by few Libyan protesters outside the Libyan Embassy at Hyde Park.
Right from 17th February, when the protest broke out in Libya, its effect has influenced London too.
‘Our protests have influenced 5 Libyan diplomats to leave the embassy and join us,’ said a source who did not want to be named.
Few of these protesters have not returned home for 30 years. But it does not dampen their spirit, their fight.
One can see the protesters grouped into clusters and having discussions, young girls singing revolutionary songs, young guys conversing in their peer, old women scattered in some other corner.
But one thing is common in all of them. They all have chosen to do something. To revolt. To protest. Rather than to sit in the four walls of their luxurious homes and watch the news on TV.
One of them is Jalal Shamman, an artist by profession. Standing in the crowd but minutely observing everything around him, he knows what ‘hope’ means for the Libyan people.
‘These protesters include everyone, be it students, house-wives, teachers.’ he said.
I asked him, if he had painted something about the revolution. He smiled and declined. Perhaps, he would, now.
‘The number of protesters range from 500 to 4000. On 17th April, which marks two months of the revolution, we are going to have a massive protest in front of the embassy.’ informed Muftah, a retired activist.
Talking about the defection of Moussa Koussa, one of the protesters, Albashir, a Phd student in linguistics, took a very honest stand and said, ‘Moussa Koussa was the right hand of Gadaffi. How can he suddenly have a conscience?”
In the meantime, I was also interested to question if any pro-Gadaffi supporters have ever criticised these protests in London.
And interestingly, my question was answered by a young half-British-half-Libyan lady Hannah, who works in finance, ‘Once or twice, there were a couple of them. But I believe, pro-Gadaffi supporters do not have a conscience.’
As the day approached the dusk, the voices, songs and enthusiasm did not decrease.
Towards the other end of the road, infront of the embassy, stood policemen. All serious. As usual.
Interestingly, the police and the protesters have a mutual agreement.
‘We have the permission to use this place for revolt. Till now, the police has never behaved in an inappropriate manner with us,’ informed Nureddin Waheishi.
But my ultimate encounter came with Aziza, a 58 year old Libyan lady, who has lost her husband in this Gadaffi regime, years back. She has not visited her country for the past 33 years.
‘For 11 years, I was in Egypt. For 22 years, I have been in London.’ she says.
She carried a very subtle aura around her. Standing away in one corner, trying very hard to decipher my English accent and answer in her Arabic accent, our communication grew from the boundaries of journalism to the reality of torture and pain.
I asked her how she feels about the revolt going on, right now.
Maybe, I had bought an array of memories for her. And she did get lost in them, in the power of the nostalgia that made me feel my question was best answered in silence.
shubhdachaudhary 