Betrayal

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

Parents shower their children with affection and love, surrounding them with care and attention. Generally, they do not refuse a request or plea if it is within their means. If something becomes impossible, they seek forgiveness and understanding.

This impression comes from my numerous observations of people’s lives, particularly the relationship between parents and their children, and the freedoms granted to them. The options available to me were extremely limited, a deprivation I experienced throughout my childhood, marked by disappointments that lingered from that time.

Our impressions of certain events are often subject to change due to various factors: age, awareness, and the level of maturity one possesses. Some of my perceptions may align with reality, while others could be exaggerated.

I feel a turmoil within me, a contradiction intensifying in my depths. Perhaps I am overtaken by the need to defend my father, as I speak of his sternness, attempting to justify his actions. I might be trying to soften my impression of a reality I lived, seeking a sense of fairness or offering him excuses, especially in light of his absence.

My father was strict and difficult in temperament, and I once thought his heart was made of flint. This image, which has lingered in my memory, may have done him an injustice. As I grew older and became a father myself, I matured and removed the exaggeration from this dark portrait. I came to understand many things and assumed that no father could truly hate his child. I sought excuses for many of his actions, even as I write about them now, colored by the pain of my past.

It pained me that fathers do not prevent their children from attending distant festivities, weddings, mourning gatherings, markets, or distant journeys. My father not