ghamedalneil@gmail.com
I usually accompany my grandson to the nearby bus station to see him off to school.
An elderly white lady comes hand in hand with her granddaughter to the bus station to send her off to school.
Although we meet every morning in the same spot for the same purpose , no one dares to utter a single word with the other .
The Somali driver stops the vehicle applying utmost precautions that the embarking of the two students goes smoothly and accordingly to safety measures. Then say hello to us and moves on continuing his trip .
Once that woman surprised me by askig to which country I belonged.
( Sudan ) abruptly I replied.
( What ) !!.. ( Where was this Sudan ) ?!
( I never heard about before ) .
I felt mostly indignified , but exercised high self constraint , calmly and politely , promised tomorrow she would be acquainted to my beloved country, left after wishing her a good day.
Divulging the suitcase I caught sight of a ( copy of the daily English newspaper Sudan Vision ) .
Fortunately that copy in particular covered a visit to the famous visual artist Dr. Rashid Diab Gallery.
The exclusive pages of the paper pictured and depicted many aspects of Sudanese folk lore ranging from popular dance and singing , portraiting national dress and consumes, fine show of native food and drinks accompanied with local utensils.
Nearly for foreigners that copy of Sudan Vision was able to reflect a marvellous image about Sudan rich history and it’s advancement that dated back to nearly six thousand years.
Proudly, next day I brought the paper to the lady to judge by herself what Sudan does mean for those who draw near to it.
It seemed that she read the journal from cover to cover.
( Oh , Mr. your home is so civilised, I smelled its grand Renaissance from the ultra contents of the gallery of that unique and exceptional Fine Artist , Dr. Rashid Diab ) .
To be continued .
Hamedalneil Fadlalmoula Abdalrahman Gorashi .
Old Teacher .
