Parliaments are places for charting policies and laws. Egypt's Parliament, however, might buck this trend. Apart from debating the nation's policies and laws, the Egyptian Parliament has over the past years become the centrestage for protest, the expression of anger, against the government from everybody ranging from textile workers, to tax collectors, pharmacists, medical doctors and even the handicapped people. The vicinity of Parliament in the centre of the Egyptian capital has turned into a gathering place for afflicted Egyptians. Hundreds of workers from the Communication Ministry, the Agriculture Ministry, and handicapped men and women have taken to the Parliament, sat, ate, and even spent the nights in the open, demanding what they call “our lost rights”. “We've been groaning for years, but nobody cared to solve our problems,” said Saleh Farghali, a striking worker from the Agriculture Ministry. “We can't wait idly by while everybody is treading on our toes,” he told The Gazette in an interview. Farghali and hundreds of his colleagues have decided to stop working and come to this area to make their complaints heard to legislators. They say their company's administration stopped giving them their financial rights a long time ago, while it arbitrarily asked workers to retire, which, they say, has done away with the dreams and the financial stability of many. They chanted slogans and held placards where they wrote statements critical of their administration and also the Government. Deep under these workers' decision to act, however, is unlimited disappointment at a never-ending cycle of economic and social woes, according to some observers. They seem to have decided to take matters unto their own hands against the backdrop of a Government that has decided to block its ears and shut its eyes firmly closed, while millions of people continue to languish, they add. The skies of Cairo sent its burning heat to the heads of everybody on this busy street, located metres away from the Cabinet Building, the Health Ministry, the Higher Education Ministry and the Housing Ministry. Little did this scorching heat, however, scare any of these angry people away. They all stand on the pavement in groups as if they were ready to fight, or even kill the first Government official they meet on the way. A few seconds into Farghali's show of anger and despair, three clean-cut men approached the crowed and talked to some of the striking workers. Everybody else saw in the three men their much-awaited rescue. They rushed towards them, mistaking them for members of Parliament who came to listen to their grievances to tell the Government about them. But they turned out to be passers-by who wanted to know why the crowd was there. Disappointment and disenchantment seemed to befall everybody. “Nobody will give a damn even if we keep standing here forever,” said Abulela Hamad, a colleague of Farghali.
