(Imaginatively visited)
Shortly after I enjoyed a freshly sliced fish for super, there followed another freshly picked mango juice, and then a strong coffee came in, all harvested from the manmade lake, GERD and from that of its evergreen lake side garden. I felt done. In fact no one starved even to death here, it’s very scenic landscape, plus its massaging wind it pumps day in and day out is perfect enough to replace any meal.
Sensing the quest of my soul, decently dressed lady, perhaps owner of Bar Guba, invited me a song about old days. We communicated telepathically. Sadly, I had to soon head to join my friend Mahfuz before the nightly cruise, Bamza, began its trek over the biggest manmade lake in Africa. Still nostalgic because of the melody the Lady invited me, I left Bar Guba and crazily rushed to the boat yard inhaling the freshening air of the Nile, listening to its poetic wave and watching its heavenly scenic garden. I felt massaged, even kissed by the soft and lip-like lake side of the dam, all along to the boat yard, and onwards, nature is in its purest form. “This is Garden of Eden “an angel whispered at me. You are a honeymooner, track your lost self-self, Hewan here, the way Adam did, he added before he gently faded away. “I was about to respond, but narrowly survived from talking alone as a majnun (madman) for I was abruptly met by Mahfouz, the travel story writer for Ahramonline.
“No time to waste! “He warned me, giving his last goodbye kiss to his Ethiopian wife, Selama. Once the third nightly cruise for Assosa left, we had to wait another solid our, unless we had to pay extra 50 Ethiopian Birr for the nightly shuttle.
We preferred the usual water craft to the nightly shuttle, thinking of having more time to make more new friends of different nationalities and backgrounds, best of all, Mahfouz had to have sufficient time to interview as many people as he could for his weekly aquatic chronicles both in Ethiopia and in Egypt.
Sharp at 7PM the blue painted water craft began floating heading first to the south, then twisting to north – west. As the poetic and rhythmic wave of the manmade lake rocked it, the craft turned its side and headlamps on now and then as a warning for skyrocketing yachts to leave its lane. Every time yachts paved the way for the nightly cruise, the lake turned into a pub fully decorated with deems lights of heavenly colors.
Lost in my deep euphoric thought, I continued thinking of old days architects behind such an aquatic monument namely late Meles Zenaw, and current leader Abiy Ahmed, until the captain waked me up with a song of the then Ethiopia, hit of the day frequented as Ethiopians were in the fight to claim their natural right over Nile waters. What has struck me most was not the lengthy and inhuman approach the Egyptian politicians showcased to eternally own the resource of Ethiopia, rather impressed by the super fabulous diplomacy our forefathers tabled to outsmart in the debate for fair Nile waters.
The song still on the air dictating me all the chronicles Ethiopians the then wrote, not in ink, but in blood. All of a sudden, however floating cruise appeared on its way to Bamza, another business center adjacent to Sudan. Packed with night life lovers, the moving hotel was seen trembling as if was being hit by a tremor. “What a sexy cruise it is!? “Exclaimed Mahfouz, the Egyptian travel logger. He looked wordlessly euphoric, but busy too trying to capture every episode he experienced. Having some breath, “I feel I’m in Egypt, cruising over Aswan.” He resumed his chat. From his smiling face, I sensed what his soul wanted to tell me about.
“We are children of the Nile, identical twins, for that matter. “Look! He interrupted me pointing his finger at the passing floating hotel. “It looks Nagib Mahfouz‘s cruise,” he added, trying to recall a water vehicle named after the renowned Egyptian literary treasure, a favorite novelist of mine too. He browsed and dag out multiple pictures of the cruise. I felt he was alone, alone because his soul was detached away from his poor flesh, just the way I felt.
Still he was busy composing every detail of night lives, making all his fives restless. Just a while later, as he sipped his strong coffee, he introduced me with an Egyptian dictum, which I many times have come across. “Water is thicker than blood,” he boasted of the old saying of his forefathers.
“I feel…” he continued, giving me no room to respond, “I’m ashamed of my forefathers, who long shamefully insisted to deny your right of using Nile waters….how on earth a country can be a bystander, an onlooker of its own bread…?”
He looked unhappy of accounts he read about the level of selfishness Egyptians down in history showed over the usage of Nile waters. “What an obsessed country mine was” he laughed with a flesh back and opened the window for fresh air to let in, but retreated back fearing splashes of water droplets coming in through the half opened window.
He strongly resembled me, and I’m a carbon copy of his face. The color of Abay is seen visibly circulating throughout his blood, so is in mine. We both, Egyptians and Ethiopians, feed on the Nile waters, it’s a divine gift full of mystery, perhaps a cord to connect us all, a never drying water equivalent of cuisine to feast on.
“It’s now one PM, and we need four more solid hours to reach at Assossa.” The captain tipped us his way ahead could be tough because of the runoff expected tonight…..Strangely, unlike to me, Mahfouz sounded pleased of the bad news for he was fond of adventures, hoping the forceful wave which is expected to make us all dance out of will. “Suit yourself,” he made fun of me. “I don’t care so long us the captain can take me to Assossa by 7AM.” “…. Who cares” I cried in reply. It was safe enough for me to arrive any time tomorrow.
“Appreciate if you tip me anything about Dabos University?” he requested me “Its home of the best aquatic life scientists,” I boasted about. “There is a must see aquatic museum, a spot where you can snap chronicles all about Nile waters and everything about this dam: its architects.” I tipped him, adding name of a contact person.
“I do thank you,” he overlapped with my exchanges. “To be genuine your forefathers made history. I came across the patience Ethiopians the then showcased in the lengthy and immoral justifications ours tabled…,” Apology for any guilt our fathers committed….
“No no …I stopped him.” Not because your forefathers were selfish, but because they misunderstood us for our ancestors had failed to promote the real motive of the project. After all, the paranoiac rhetoric, as you know, had impacted the fair usage of Nile waters Ethiopia initiated. Any way that’s an old story, “I aborted my preach from proceeding. He too resumed his endless business of composing and taking pictures.”Back to myself. I collected all my though and began to visualize every step Ethiopia went through to build this earthily Paradise of Guba and its environs. Best of all, unlike the Egyptians, our forefathers begged no country to finance such an aquatic monument, but skipped thousands of meals, suffered a lot for the sake of us. Meant, we Ethiopians today are honeymooners, enjoying life at it’s full at the expense of our forefathers. Salute to Late Meles Zenawi, hat off to Abiy Ahmed Ali, thumbs up to you all fallen and alive.
Let me dictate you how this biggest dam came in to being. As he nodes his head, my brief went down this way…
Long long, long years after Ethiopians tempted Abay, a brave man named Meles came to power, his teaching and political orientation was divisive though. With all his odds, he sensed the right time to act and surprised Ethiopians with his grand project of constructing a dam over Abay. He called for mass support and earned the most patriotic response and kicked the project off. Sadly, died before seeing its completion, leaving the 4 billion USD project for looters to scavenge on. Years later, a mass protest brought a real Ethiopian, named Abiy Ahmed to power. Abiy’s appearance to the political scene of the country, as you might heard, not only spared the nation from collapse, but also sustained the flagship project and later turned into a reality, pleasing all Ethiopians. The man, who is now in his late nineties, has also introduced the country with fresh perspectives and political theories … After I told him enough; he looked less interested for me to go on. As he resumed his routine, I looked back, and discovered everybody was busy in side talks, some were seen capturing pictures of the night fall drama, even some others were in their deep soul, enjoying the newly come out song… Blues of the Nile by Jasmine Mahfouz and Elias Lakawo,an Egyptian and Ethiopian singers respectively.
It was a single, all about Abay, a divine cord made to be used as a knot to tie Ethiopia and Egypt.
Every time the captain changed the gear of the vehicle so did my thought. I continued turning pages of history, chronicles of great deeds Ethiopians the then made, the Grand Renaissance Dam in particular. I have been long told that Ethiopia long suffered from boasting of ancient grace and greatness until an envisioned generation has all of a sudden mushroomed, regretfully to write a new chronicle of own, what I’m reading right now on Nile Waters.
Many had accused our forefathers of boasting about the victory of Adwa, rock hewn of Lalibella, Jogel Wall, saying they had left nothing to leave behind. The dam, which is equivalent to the victory of Adwa, has helped our forefathers to be remembered. In fact, no generation leap forward unless it turns its old days on.
It’s a must to step on the gate of history to reach at today’s gate. But no history lasts long and no generation can be eternally remembered unless new ones take turns to be recorded generation after generation. What I meant, this biggest African Dam and manmade lake is a living testimony our forefathers have offered us renewing history of ancient days.
“This is not water, its blood,” I continued dictating Mahfouz. ”Don’t you know how much hard-earned many this dam consumed, don’t you know how greedily your fathers milked this river and prospered at the expense of ours”
“No more blame and complaint,” he stopped me, half smiling. I didn’t want to accuse him of guilt his forefathers committed. “Cool down, dude, I’m just kidding” I embraced him wholeheartedly.
But proceeded talking to myself, call it an inner speech. This dam is not a matter of growing a tomato at ones back yard, its rather equivalent of setting free oneself, and getting independent from colonialism, if you like. “Don’t fool yourself,” my soul laughed at me. “Don’t belittle your forefathers’ great deeds, unless you are super idiot.” It continued. All along I understood how stupid it is to discredit deeds of history in all its form, good or bad, whatever value it may be composed of.
The more we came close to the off shore, the more deadly beautiful it turned. Its breath was perfume enough to cure from any disease of now and the generation to come. Its soft hands of the night wind recalled me how prefect and medicinal nature is if nurtured. “Once the harshest valley, Guba, thanks to patriots of that very episode of time, has turned into Earthily Paradise.Mahfouz once again approached me.
“We Egyptians, Sudanese and Ethiopians are twins, to your surprise identical twins we are. “He cherished me with a bluish Ethiopian wine his Ethiopian wife, Selma offered him earlier for the nightly tour back at the boat yard.
“We are children of the Nile” I replied, taking sip from his wine. It tasted not alcohol, rather pure waters, but had the chemistry to get into high. Minutes later, we found ourselves at a boat yard, near Asossa, a city nick named as a “Mango City”
I rushed to a resort I booked a day earlier, connecting him to a guide for any extra tour. As I reached there at my room, I coincided with a live transmission from the national broadcaster -EBC.“What a heartwarming New Year gift it is?!” Everybody there was crazily dancing. I rewind the news the prime minister extended in his New Year wish. What a surprise!
Here it goes….
“I’m very pleased to tell you that Ethiopia is set to launch a nuclear program this very week…..…Happy Ethiopian New Year. ” he smoothly faded away from the screen.
Still with a complete euphoria, I unlocked my phone and skimmed through AssossaTimes for any latest updates….The title of the first news went as”…Ethiopia earns 5 billion USD exporting electric power to African countries. . And down on the same page it read “Honeymooners rates GERD as the best garden of lovers.”
In its business corridor the daily wrote “Ethiopia makes 2 billion USD exporting fish from its manmade lake”….And this culminated, my browse for fresh news “Guba is to host the global aqua scientists …”
My phone, as usual, struck at 12 AM, shortly after I was fallen in a decent sleep. No way to compromise, I tempted to have at least minutes, though. My daily routine then followed. I took no time to pick my favorite from the menu, after all what else can a dude have by the side of an ocean as a breakfast, other than aquatic harvests. Then a freshly sliced fish graced my table for breakfast accompanied by a freshly picked mango and a strong coffee.
When I called for the bill, I happened to meet an Arab host. I sensed from his face that he was still feeling home sickness, couldn’t even learn a single word of the local language…..Gush…Is this meant the last shall be first, sadly, recalled the Qur’anic verse and left him tipping 50 USD.
The Ethiopian Herald August 4, 2020
BY AHMED MOHAMMED
