CAIRO: With a curved back, she struggled to walk through the metro aisle, leaning against other passengers who either supported her or shrugged her off as if she was a fly. Clutching onto a dark torn plastic bag, her hands shook as she called out, “Tissues, tissues.” Looking so weak in her black outfit, Rashida Abu Al-Hassan sells packs of tissues on the metro for living – to feed herself and her uneducated daughters. “I don't remember the taste of meat,” Rashida told me when I asked her if she had plans for the upcoming feast, which is known for its tradition of eating lamb– unless you are among the majority who live under the poverty line, in which case, no meat for you… this year as well. With a long-gone husband, Rashida's 26-year-old son was killed in an accident three months and four days ago. “He was my only hope,” Rashida told me with tears running down her wrinkly face. “He was so young, he was so young,” the older woman whaled, forcing other passengers to stare at us. Working on a truck, Rashida's son used to get paid 500 pounds a month, which helped with the daily expenses. Rashida, who is illiterate, hesitated when I asked her how old she was. “I'm old. Around sixty maybe,” she said, removing the headscarf from her head to show me a thin layer of gray hair. Then pointing at her head she said, “I shaved it off when my son died… shaved it off from sadness.” She whaled some more with her mouth wide open showing the few teeth she had. Rashida sells seven packs of tissues on a good day, she said. “Some people sympathize with me and are quite generous,” she said with a smile on her face. Her eyes still filled with tears. BM
