Transcript:

It all started at her funeral. Princess Shamma, queen of The Helaly Tribes. She’s been ill for the past six years, and with her illness came the draught. She was the greatest leader of all the tribes, having one third of the votes for important decisions all by herself.

Even through her illness, my grandmother has been trying to convince the tribe leaders to leave. The desert we live in had become harsher and harsher in the past years. We’re Bedouins. We’re always on the move, looking for the next green pasture and the next blue oasis. And she knew it was time to go now.

In the funeral, they all knew it was time to follow her orders. Her eldest son, Sultan Hassan of Jereed of Helal, the sultan of all The Helaly Tribes, and his brother King Sarhan, my father, called for a vote of the elders. Everyone knew that it had to be done. Everyone knew that we had to leave where we lived for the past hundred years. Everyone knew that a mass exodus was coming.

The elders quickly settled on the need to leave. Princess Nour, who had inherited from her mother the third of the votes, suggested west. Libya, Tunisia, Morocco, maybe even Andalusia. Everyone in the room agreed, and quickly looked to whom they knew would carry the mission, my uncle from my mother’s side.

Salama Barakat, son of Rizk, son of Nael, of Aamer, of Hawazen of Helal. Also known as Abou Zeed Al Helaly. He was the bravest and greatest knight of all the tribes. He had fled when he was young, along with his mother, from his cruel uncle, cam back seeking justice and won. He helped us defend our lands from the Cypriot invaders, readied our men to battle the armies of Iraq, and came back victorious. He’s the greatest hero The Helalies had ever seen, and now he has to save us again.

When he got a chance to speak, he asked the elders of the tribes to give him 3 scouts, from the noble youths of the tribes. They would go first, scouting the roads, desert paths, and narrow valleys; finding new pastures and moving our tribes to the west, to previously uncharted lands by Arabs like us. I had to volunteer. Both my brothers had to volunteer. He specifically asked for youths from the noble families to set an example to other men in the tribes, because one day they might have to be in the same place we’re in.

It was decided. Abou Zeed will go west to scout, along with his sister’s sons: Younis, Yahia, and Marey; sons of King Sarhan of Helal.

Four days later we found ourselves, the four of us along with our camels, in an abandoned Coptic monastery in the middle of the desert. This was the border of the Helaly controlled region. Abou Zeed took us to the inside of the monastery, which turned out to be one of his famous hideouts. It was full of costumes and various disguises. He told us to take the disguise of travelling poets and him, an elderly Rababa player, with his famous sword hidden in the Rababa. We went into the monastery princes of the greatest Arabian descent and came out of it having nothing to our names.

Before we left Abou Zeed asked Yahia to read the sands. He said he always likes to know how his adventures are going to end. Yahia, who was known to have a third eye for predicting the future, took a loose lime stone that had probably fell from the monastery’s structure a hundred years ago, and put it in between us. He reached down to the ground, grabbed a fist-full of sand, and let it slip gently onto the lime stone. He blew a bit of air onto the sand then swiped his hand on his forehead, looking for a drop of sweat that he dropped onto the sand. We all followed his lead. We looked at him and waited, until his face turned white. He looked at Abou Zeed and told him that he sees him in the sand, going back home. He sees him returning alone. We looked around to each other and to Abou Zeed, who started laughing and told us that he never believed in those things. I guess he said that to make us feel better at the time, but little did he know that it was all correct.

We kept moving, going through Egypt, Alexandria, and the Libyan Desert disguised as the travelling poets we were. We reached the ferry that would take us to Tunis, where it seemed that rain and green pastures were abundant. The ferrymen had never seen camels as big and glorious as ours. Those people here only use horses, and they weren’t accustomed to larger animals like those. We only had enough money to buy our passage but not that of the camels. Abou Zeed, who everyone till that point mistook as our elderly servant because of his darker skin colour, took out his Rababa and started singing. The complements of the kindness and generosity of the ferrymen made them sympathise with us, so they let us pass with the camels.

The ferry dropped us off on the outskirts of Tunis. Great Gardens of Eden surrounded the whole city. We rested a bit from the tiring unloading of the camels under the shadow of a palm tree. There was lots of trees, fruit, and greenery that we haven’t seen before. It looked like we might’ve found a new home for The Helaly Tribes. Now, the hard part started. We had to figure out more details about the rulers of the land and whether they would accept us or not.

While resting under the palm tree we saw a man approaching us. He was dressed in white and green, and riding a great mare. We didn’t know it yet but he was your cousin, Allam. The Prime Minister of Tunisia. We also didn’t know at the time that he had the same gift that Yahia has, and he had seen three men from The Helalies coming to Tunis in his sand.

We knew he was an important man from his looks. So, when he approached us we only replied to his greetings. He asked us who we were and we answered “Three travelling poets, discovering God’s earth with his grace, and their elderly servant“. Allam responded that those camels don’t look like the camels of poets that have nothing to their names. Abou Zeed, who went by the name Masood, replied that they were a gift from a Meccan silk merchant who grew fond of our singing in the markets of Alexandria. Allam asked us to sing for him, so Abou Zeed reached out for his Rababa and started.

He began by praising God. Then praising His prophets. The praising the last of His prophets, Mohammed. The praising the close followers of the last of His prophets, Mohammed. The praising the great Imams that had followed them. Then praising the Abassid Caliph. Then, when it came to praising the rulers of Tunisia he stopped. He asked Allam “What’s the name of the ruler of Tunisia?”, Allam said “Al-Moabbad“. Abou Zeed continues his praise then stopped abruptly. He asked Allam “What’s the name of the minister and leader of the army of Tunisia?“. Allam started laughing and told us that we have a very cunning servant.

He asked Abou Zeed to put his Rababa away and to tell him who we really are. Abou Zeed replied with the same, “Three travelling poets, discovering God’s earth with his grace, and their elderly servant Masood“. Allam iterated, and asked the same question again. And Abou Zeed gave him the same response again. Allam looked like he’s getting tired from our charade. He told us to say what we want, but we looked like three Helaly men and their elderly servant. We didn’t respond.

He gave us his Koffeiyah, his head scarf. He told us to go into Tunis and we would be safe there. If we had any trouble we should show people his Koffeiyah and they would know we’re under his protection. And if we are not who we say we are, and want to talk to him in the palace, we should show his Koffeiyah to his guards. He rode his mare, and left.

An hour later, we were still resting in the gardens outside of Tunis, when Marey asked Abou Zeed if had any food on him. The last encounter had had its toll on us. But after the money we paid on the ferry we had nothing left. Abou Zeed took off his shirt and told Marey to go into the city and sell it for food. But we all refused. This was the time I knew I had to step up.

My grandmother, Princess Shamma, had given me a piece of her necklace before she died. This was a necklace that she had gotten from a Cypriot man back home and no one had ever seen something like it. She gave it to me, knowing that one day we would take her advice and head west to find a new place to live in. She told me that when the time comes, I should sell it - and only me - because in her own words, I had the prettiest face in the whole world, and that people would trust that I was not a thief.

I took out the necklace and showed it to Abou Zeed, who knew that this is our only option now. He gave me three pieces of advice:

• Don’t under sell the necklace; otherwise people would think you stole it.

• Don’t deal with women; you’re as handsome as Joseph son of Jacob and you know what happened to him.

• Don’t enter a palace; go straight to the market, find the wealthiest merchant and sell it to him.

With those words I left them in the gardens and entered the city.

I went through the gates of Tunis along with various people. Egyptian convoys, Aegean merchants, Palestinian noblemen, and Tuareg coming to barter. I went inside as the nomadic poet that I am, and headed directly to the Souk, the greatest market in the country. I started scouting the market for the wealthiest merchant to sell the necklace. I saw an elderly man standing alone in a tent without any merchandise, and people coming to him one at a time, talking for a few minutes, shaking his hands and leaving. I went to him directly. I knew he is the merchant I’m looking for, because the wealthiest merchants have no merchandise to sell.

I said my greetings and asked him if he would be interested in buying the rarest necklace he would ever lie his eyes upon. He looked at me with disdain, but I knew I had intrigued him. He told me that buying necklaces is for women, and merchants looking for a quick Dinar by scamming idiots like me. I took out the necklace, showed it to him and told him not to worry about me getting scammed. He looked at the necklace, then looked up at me three times. He asked me where I stole the necklace from, but then took it back and said that I don’t look like a thief.

He asked me who am I, and I told him that I was a travelling poet, discovering God’s earth with His grace, and told him that I got the necklace from a Cypriot merchant in Alexandria in exchange for a great Arabian camel. The merchant looked at me and apologised. He said he doesn’t have the money to buy such a rare necklace. And even if he had, an ignorant man like him is not worthy of that necklace. He told me that the only person who has the means to buy that necklace, and who is worthy of it is You. Aziza, the daughter of Al-Moabbad, Sultan of Tunisia. That was the first time I heard your name, Aziza.

He called for his wife and sent her to your palace. He told me that he’s going to make a hefty commission for facilitating the sale of the Sultan’s daughter. His wife came to you as fast as possible with the news. Little did show know that you had more interest in me than in the necklace. She didn’t know, and I didn’t know, that you spent the past four years hearing stories about me from Mai.

Mai was my mother’s former handmaid, she grew up in our family and raised me. One day a travelling poet, like the one I’m disguised as, came to our tribe and started reciting poems about the chivalry and generosity of my father and uncle. My father was so pleased, he told him that the next thing he sees and wants is his. That was Mai. They got married and they left us. I didn’t know at the time what had happened to her, but now I know that she learnt poetry and singing from her husband. And when he died in Alexandria, she met you and came to be your handmaid, filling your lonely nights with stories and songs about our tribes, and especially about me.

I didn’t know that her stories made you fall in love with me, with the idea of me.

When the merchant’s wife came to your palace; When Mai heard the description of the necklace and the man that’s trying to sell it; She knew it was me, and she told you. You knew I would be wary of coming to the palace, so you sent Mai with the merchant’s wife and a guard to accompany me to the palace. And you were right; When I saw Mai, and when she told me her story I let go of all my instincts, and Abou Zeed’s advice.

I followed her to the palace with the sole intention of selling the necklace, until I saw you. If you fell in love with the image of me that you built from Mai’s stories, I fell in love with the image of you I saw there and then.

But, Aziza, Daughter of the Sultan. If it was a different time. If we’d met in a different place. I would’ve told you there and then that I loved you. If only I hadn’t left my heart with my suffering family.

You dismissed the merchant’s wife and told her that you’ll send her their commission. You started talking to me, saying that you were longing for the day you’d meet me. I told you, against my will, that I need to complete the sale of the necklace because I need to feed my brothers that are waiting outside of the city. You told me to wait with you, and asked Mai to prepare a tray of the finest food and sent it with a guard to my brothers.

Yahia tells me now that the guard came to them with the tray of food. When Abou Zeed saw it he knew that I hadn’t followed his advice. Abou Zeed dismissed the guard, and started to think about what to do to get to me. The guard took the tray that, in his own words, the ingrateful Arabs refused and gave it to his poor children.

My brothers were starving. Marey was walking in between the trees outside the city, when he saw a bunch of dates that fell on the ground. He picked them up and had a few, when the workers on the gardens jumped him. Marey tried to fight off the seven workers, and Abou Zeed ran to his help; But not before he got stabbed in his guts. Abou Zeed took off the sword he had hidden in his Rababa and fought the workers off the bleeding Marey. In a fit of rage he slashed his sword at the workers. He went first for the servant that stabbed Marey and stabbed him directly in the heart. He then shifted his attention to the three who tried to fight him, killing them in three swift movements. He ran after the three that ran and did not stop until he had taken his revenge.

A dozen guards who were patrolling the area came quickly on the sounds off the fight. They saw Abou Zeed with his bloody sword and surrounded him, raising their weapons. Abou Zeed looked around. He saw the bodies of the servants on the ground, and Yahia kneeling onto Marey trying to stop the bleeding. Abou Zeed lowered his sword and raised Allam’s Koffeiyah instead. The guards recognized the Koffeiyah immediately and stood down. They handcuffed Abou Zeed and my two brothers and marched them through the city.

Meanwhile, we heard the ruckus going on outside of the palace gates. You, Aziza, sent Mai to know what’s happening. I sometimes wish she hadn’t come back. That we would enjoy those few minutes again in your garden with the bloss of ingorance. You not being Aziza the daughter of Tunisia’s Sultan, and me not being Younis of the Helalies.

She came back with the news. Three Arabs killed some servants outside of the city, and of course when Mai saw them being marched through the city she recognised Abou Zeed and the two princes of Helal that she had helped raise. They were being taken to the court of the head of the army, El-Zanaty Khalifa, the fiercest and most noble warrior west of The Nile.

We hurried after them, and when we caught up with them I ran to check on my wounded younger brother. The guards knew I was with them and captured me as well. You couldn’t enter the court with us due to the people following the convoy of guards and prisoners. But in there, El-Zanaty Khalifa called for Allam and when he came they started interrogating us.

El-Zanaty started: “Who are you?”.

“Three travelling poets, exploring God’s earth with His grace, and their elderly servant Masood”, Abou Zeed replied.

“I haven’t seen poets killing seven able bodied workers of mine before”, said El-Zanaty.

“Fighting is one of my few talents, my lord”, Abou Zeed replied. “If you give me back my Rababa and my sword, I can show you a few more“.

Allam laughed and said “I also haven’t seen servants talking to lords of the land like that before“.

“Forgive him, my lord“, Yahia replied. “Seeing his masters in such a predicament Masood forgot his place“.

“Predicament!“ El-Zanat shouted. “This is a flesh wound that would surely heal. Is a flesh wound to a travelling poet worth the lives of seven of my finest servants?”

“If this wasn’t a flesh wound, your head itself wouldn’t have been worth it. My lord.“ Abou Zeed replied.

“I think I believe you, Allam“ El-Zanaty said. “So I’ll ask them one more time. Who are you?”

“Three travelling poets, discovering God’s earth with His grace“ I replied.

“Three travelling poets who killed my servants are useless to me”. El-Zanaty looked at his guards and ordered them to execute us.

They took us back outside. We were lead to a public place, where people gathered around to watch and a noose was set up. I could see the merchant and his wife amongst the people, mourning the probable loss of their commission. I could see you and Mai in the back, not knowing what to do.

El-Zanaty signaled to one of his guards. The guard held Abou Zeed and lead him to the noose. He wrapped it around his neck, when Yahia shouted.

“People of Tunis. Don’t you have any regard for stature? Since when do servants come before their masters?“

The crowd murmured and people started nodding in approval. El Zanaty signalled to his guard, and he took Abou Zeed back. He took Yahia instead, lead him to the noose, and wrapped it around his neck. I shouted.

“People of Tunis. Don’t you have any regard for rank? Since when do youngsters come before their elders?“

The crowd again murmured and nodded in approval. El-Zanaty signaled, and the guard took me instead. He lead me to the noose and wrapped it around my neck when Marey shouted.

“People of Tunis. Don’t you have any mercy? Do you leave the injured to suffer while the healthy are being executed?“

For the third time the crowd agreed. But this time they started asking, who are those people so eager to die first.

El-Zanaty asked, “For the third and final time, Who are you?“

“They are Younis, Yahia, and Marey. Sons of King Sarhan, brother of Sultan Hassan of Jereed of Helal”, You replied.

You told them about Mai. You told them about the necklace that no one in Tunis had ever seen something like before as a proof of who we were. We had no other option but to tell the truth. The partial truth.

Knowing who they had in custody now, Allam and El-Zanaty Khalifa knew that they couldn’t just execute us. They ordered our servant Masood to go back home to our tribe and ask for ransom, and for blood money as a compensation for the killed servants.

They never knew that he was Abou Zeed El-Helaly, the finest warrior of The Helaly Tribes. And when he promised to come back with 360 thousand pieces of silver, they never knew that he meant the 360 thousand pieces of silver plated helmets of our finest soldiers.

He went home, alone. Just like the sands revealed to Yahia in the abandoned monastery. He gathered the war council for all the tribes, and they decided to move. Not just the army, but also all of their lives to Tunisia. They were desperate. The conditions haven’t gotten any better since we had left on our journey.

I know this because he slipped behind the gates of Tunis yesterday. Him and my mother because she was so desperate to see us. After all, it has been seven years since we left home. They came here, to the prison attached with the royal palace. You fought to keep us here instead of in El-Zanaty Khalifa’s prison because you were afraid that he would kill us.

Tunis has been under seige for the past year and a half. I know that El-Zanaty is winning key battles one after another, but the fact that Abou Zeed was here to check on us yesterday means that he has a plan to win this war once and forever.

You asked me, Aziza, to tell you my story again. This was my story.

I came from far away lands. No food, no water, no money. My only friend, is my solitude.

And you’re telling me you love me, what is there to love? And what is love, without my freedom?

Aziza, daughter of The Sultan. If it was a different time. If we had met in a different place. I would’ve fell in love with you there and then.

If only I hadn’t left my heart with my family.

Music:

• Younis - Mohamed Mounir

• Younis Karoake - Mohamed Mounir

• Mizmar Taksim - Aswan Music & Dance Ensemble

• Sabr Ya Alam - Aswan Music & Dance Ensemble

• Lamony - Asaal Music

• Sayyidi Rabab (Egypt) - Yosuf Majed