Published by
Al-Araby
Al-Araby
For a passing moment, surrender blissful ignorance and join us in Alaa’s struggle. As you read this behind the anonymity of a screen, Alaa Abdel Fattah sits guarded in a room four metres long, two metres wide. Each morning, he awakens to a putrid concoction of body odour, suffocating dampness and the remnants of the cell’s plumbing. The paint of once-white walls gives way to reveal the squalid interior of his isolation. Looking around, indistinguishable faces mesh together, their expression filled with torment. This is Cairo’s Tora Prison where humanity is crushed with glee, and still, he sing…