Tahrir Square, the place of the rebirth of my nationality. Friday the 11th of February wasn't just a beacon of hope and democracy to my country when the regime fell, but for the first time I felt Egyptian, a feeling I never had before, a feeling of belonging. As I marched towards Tahrir Square unable to control my tears and my pounding heart while chanting with millions “long live Egypt”, for the first time I felt that this land is mine, my voice is not muted anymore, and freedom translated into a feeling that is indescribable. The blindfold of years just fell off; looking into the eyes of every Egyptian gave me hope, chanting in one voice for freedom and justice. Egyptians from every socio-economic, educational, and religious background were hand in hand demanding our basic tangible and intangible human needs. Raised in Egypt, living with injustice and corruption far exceeded my love and sense of belonging to this country. I never experienced a president other than Hosni Mubarak. Economic and social challenges forced my family and I to move to Qatar in search of better employment. The longer I stayed away from Egypt, the less I wanted to return. I lost respect to the place I belong to and was only proud of our ancient history. Closely following the rise of the revolution from abroad, my understanding of Egyptian politics and corruption became deeper each day. Each day the number of martyrs increased, the brutality of the regime was exposed. Unexpectedly I felt emotions I never had before: patriotism, pride in the determination of the Egyptian people and their desire to die for change, and anger toward the system that killed my people. Driven by these emotions, I flew to Cairo with a strong resolve to join the “Final Friday” protests discarding all the warnings of how dangerous this day could be. I walked down the street, waving my flag, previously only waved in soccer games, proud of our history and present, proud of where I come from and excited about what the future will hold. The moment the regime fell, Egypt and its people restored their dignity. Happiness filled the streets and my passport was no longer my only proof of identity, it was my actions. I now dream of the day I return to my country and make up for the years lost while away from it.
