Confessions of a Teenager

Confessions of a Teenager

Every stage of life has its unique power and influence over the human soul. Adolescence, that fascinating and tumultuous time, is the grand explosion that heralds the arrival of manhood, a shift toward physical strength and boldness. It’s a phase brimming with energy, a sense of invincibility, and the belief that no one can rival the journey one’s beginning.

I’ll skip the typical descriptions of this stage since everyone—men and women alike—who has moved past childhood has experienced the intensity of these years. Youth, vitality, and a sense of triumph over childhood shape this time, with eyes shining bright as the dawn of adulthood begins.

As a young student in my third year of middle school in rural Upper Egypt, I was surrounded by the charm of spring—fields filled with flowers, greenery, towering trees, and birds, both native and migratory. It was a lively season, where farmers and villagers gathered for weddings and celebrations under open skies, bringing life and excitement to our community.

In these weddings, traditional performers like the ghawazi (dancers) and folk musicians with their mizmar, drums, and other local instruments filled the air with sounds and energy. These celebrations took place outdoors, under hanging lanterns and moonlight, as

electricity was a luxury back then, only available in the city and for short periods through diesel generators.

At one of these weddings, rows of seats were arranged to form the “samr,” a large rectangular seating area facing the open-air stage. After the initial music, the dancers took to the stage, moving gracefully before mingling with the audience, receiving applause and admiration.

I was seated among my friends, a young, polite, and educated teenager with a reputation for being respectable. When one of the dancers came near, she looked at me intently and exclaimed, “You’ve enchanted me, oh magician!”

Baffled, I replied earnestly, “I’m just a student; I know nothing about magic!” I thought she meant the kind of street magic performers do in local markets. Everyone laughed, including her, with a voice louder than the music itself.

She whispered that she liked me, saying she’d come back to talk more, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and nervous excitement. She was just a few years older than me, yet her presence sparked something unfamiliar within me. But as I was raised to believe I was now a “man,” I decided not to let fear overcome me and stayed put, resisting the urge to flee to avoid being teased by my friends.

As the night wore on, she returned, now seated beside me. She chatted comfortably, as if we’d been childhood friends, asking about my school and wanting to meet in the city in a more private setting. I asked her not to come to my school, concerned about the trouble it could cause. She replied, “Fine, but I won’t survive without seeing you again.”

The next morning, I couldn’t focus on my studies; my thoughts were consumed by what might happen. Later, as I left school, a car pulled up, and the same dancer called out to me, looking polished and elegant.

One of my older uncles, who I later found out had been watching over me from afar, saw the exchange but didn’t reveal his presence. He was more like a friend to me, yet I didn’t know he was keeping an eye on things.

I got into the car, and she directed the driver to a peaceful garden near the Ministry of Agriculture, surrounded by blooming flowers, towering trees, birdsong, and the calming flow of the Nile.

We talked, and she told me directly, “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go. If you want to keep studying, I’ll take care of everything.” She even suggested marriage and promised a life free of worry. I told her that, as a man, I couldn’t accept being supported by anyone but my father.

Her demeanor changed as she tried to entice me, but I resisted her advances. Frustrated, she threatened to tell my family that we’d secretly married. My mind reeled at this plan, fearing the consequences of her scheme. Just then, my uncle, who had been silently observing from nearby, joined us, calmly saying, “I’ve heard everything. He’s still a student, so let him be. If you’re truly interested, I’m here.”

She quickly gathered her belongings, her plans foiled, and left. My uncle laughed, patting me on the back, saying, “I saved you, my friend. That’s what true friendship is for.”

And so ended this adventure, with more to come, perhaps to share with you another day