Heavier than Radhwa | Radhwa Ashour

A teacher in disguise or a complex personality with conflicting traits and opposites? After a few days, I will turn seventy-one, I have spent four decades of them teaching at the university, some of those I taught have become professors with students. No, dear reader, I am not showcasing my achievements before finishing the book, but I am trying to answer the question I posed at the beginning of the paragraph. You will not notice that I am seventy-one, not because old age does not yet show on my features, nor because if you knock on my door now, a relatively small woman dressed simply will open for you, her short, boyish hair, though mostly white, almost makes her disappear. Not only for these reasons, but because the woman, and I mean Radwa, as soon as she finds the street relatively empty, she starts kicking any small stone she encounters with her right foot, repeatedly trying to send it as far as possible. She does like any ten-year-old shopkeeper boy who compensates for the boredom of endless deliveries to homes and his desire to play, which is unavailable because he works all day. The game captivates her, and she doesn’t stop until she notices a passerby staring at her in amazement. Radwa Ashour blends in these passages from her autobiography scenes from the revolution and her experience in facing illness over the past three years, linking them to previous and earlier years. She talks about the university, the liberation, the martyrs, about herself, and reflects on the act of writing.