Al-Ahram Weekly 16 - 22 September 1999 Issue No. 447
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875

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Mohamed Dahab: Son of the Nile Profile by Fatemah Farag Preserving an epic, the history of his people and the River Nile

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In one way or another our existence is a result of a geographical enigma that brought the waters of two African lakes, 1,000 miles apart, along a long and meandering journey to culminate in the River Nile. Few of our lives, however, reflect that reality as poignantly as Mohamed Dahab's. Ask any boatman on the Corniche in Aswan: Who knows the Nile best? The answer will invariably be: Rayyes Dahab, of course.

To find the rayyes means visiting his village on the island of Saheel, a rocky outcrop in the channel of the Nile accessible only to small row-boats. The boatmen languishing in the shade waiting for passengers had soon ferried us over to the island. Once there, the path to Mohamed Dahab's is well beaten as it winds its way among and over a mass of boulders of all shapes and sizes. What little vegetation remains on the island comes in the form of tall and delicate dom trees.

Finally, small houses appear just below, the very first of which is Mohamed Dahab's. He is clearly someone in demand for he has already heard that visitors are on their way and has come out to greet us with much needed water.

"This village has existed for more that 3,000 years," begins Dahab after we are finally settled in his home. His enunciation is slow and clear, his eyes expressive, his skin burnt by years of harsh sun; it's colour in striking contrast with the dazzling white scarf wrapped securely around his head.

He has chosen to start at the beginning, and for him the beginning is the history of his village and of the Nile which grants it subsistence. "It is not just me who has worked on the Nile, but everyone here from the beginning of time. Not just my father but my uncle and cousins and our ancestors. The proof of our history is the Stone of Famine which tells the story of Sayedna Youssef."

We delay visiting this monument temporarily as I urge Dahab to continue with his story.

"I was born in 1933 on this island which is the oldest inhabited one on the Nile. It should not to be confused with West Saheel where Nubians were relocated after the building of Khazzan Aswan [the British-built reservoir to lessen the effects of the flood] in 1902. We are what remains of what used to comprise Nubia -- I mean the villages that extended from Aswan to Adina."

The memory evokes a sigh but he quickly resumes. "Of course our whole village lived off the Nile and so did everyone in Nubia, because in the old days there were no jobs offered by the State. So you find that our people were boatmen and fishermen. My family worked boats from Aswan to Wadi Halfa and back, others carried commodities down the Nile all the way to Cairo. Our boatmen are renowned for their knowledge and many have found jobs working in Suez."

Top to bottom: Mohamed Dahab preserves his heritage; a Nubian village embedded in the rocks; the story of King Zhoser and his astrologists engraved on the Stone Of Famine

At the age of nine Dahab joined his uncle and father on their boats which took oil, flour and other staples down to Wadi Halfa, stopping at the villages on the way to sell their wares. The boats would return laden with beans and lib (edible seeds) from Sudan for sale in Aswan.

"I was in the village kutab when the family decided I would go to work on my uncle's boat. The person who makes bread every day on the boat is called the cook, and that's how I started. Eventually I was promoted to furling and unfurling the sails. Finally when I reached 18 I acquired the status of sailor, bahhar." At the memory, Dahab straightens his back. "I had become a man and had to take on my own responsibility."

The path Dahab was to follow, though, was less straightforward than that of his ancestors. "After the Aswan High Dam was built there was no point in keeping our boats and so we broke them up. It was sad of course. They were beautiful, all of them with sails and ranging between 14 and 21 metres in length. They were very sturdy and sometimes when we got a shipment of dates we would go as far up as the port in Misr Al-Atiqa (old Cairo)."

It was not only the boats that were lost to history, but also the Nile as they knew it. As we look at the blue waters below us, higher than usual at the peak of a high flood season, Dahab recounts scenes from what must have been a very different body of water.

"During the flood the water would suddenly turn yellow. The power of the water carrying all that silt from Sudan was such that even Khazzan Aswan could not keep it at bay. The water was almost mud and we used to get shaaba, which I guess is the equivalent of today's chlorine, and put it in the buckets so we could drink."

Throughout the flood months, September, October and November, trips that ordinarily took one day by boat would now take from two to three days. "Just to get as far as Khazzan Aswan could take three days as the full capacity of the Khazzan was not enough to weaken the Nile." By now, Dahab's arms are up in the air making imaginary whirlpools around his slim body as he tries to convey the might of the flood.

"Otherwise the waters would be placid and calm. But they were also different from today, full of fish that came from the Sudan. And we had amazing birds, all colours and sizes that you never see today. They would fill the rock islands that dot the Nile and you would never tire of looking at them. Then there were the crocodiles that would come and sleep in the sun and bask themselves in the small channels of water around the islands."

He continued the theme of change. "There were the villages of Nubia, they lined the banks of the Nile and as you travelled down to Sudan you would see the colourful houses, trees and water-wheels on both sides of the waterway. It was truly beautiful."

Not that Dahab is bitter at the Aswan High Dam, or the changes that have overtaken his beloved Nile. "It [the dam] was a national project which did a lot of good and Abdel-Nasser is a leader to be remembered and respected," he exclaimed, pointing towards a small photo, the only one in his living room, stuck to the wall above the light and fan switch. "He made education possible for everyone and he provided jobs for people. These are things we should try and preserve for our children.

"When I first went out to look for work I found that everything was really controlled by foreign companies. So I started with a Greek company called Al-Nil Lil-Naql Al-Bahary [Nile for River Transport]. I was a guide for them but this did not last long and in the late 1950s I worked with a German company that was testing the bed of the Nile in preparation for the Aswan High Dam. I worked on the dam for quite some time before moving into Nile tourism in the early 1960s."

The move from one of the most heralded national projects in Egypt's modern history to Nile cruises was not so much of a shift according to Dahab. "Aren't cruises a part of tourism which everyone tells us is the major asset we have."

"At the time there were two companies that monopolised the cruises: Thomas Cook and Anglo-American. Thomas Cook was larger and better established and I was a pilot for them. At the time the boats were metal and had large propellers on their sides. They came in two sizes: family-size which was small, maybe 20 to 25 metres; and large cruise boats which were about 65 metres. Egyptians eventually bought the boats."

By 1963 it was time for another change, and Dahab entered the border patrol. "The sawahel were very important at the time because it came to the government's attention that a lot of smuggling was going on from Sudan to Egypt. Things like ivory and pepper were being carried by boats that hid among the islands and reeds during the day and travelled at night." It seems Dahab's family was a natural choice for civilian recruitment. "My grandfather and maternal uncle were the incumbents of the post before me. When my uncle was ready to retire I was chosen to take his place," recounts Dahab.

However, the sojourn with the river guard did not last long. "After the 1967 defeat -- in 1968 to be precise -- orders were given that civilians in military jobs be transferred to civilian jobs. So I was transferred to the governorate, specifically the Department for Internal Navigation."

The department was new and needed a role. "We had no internal boat services in Aswan and I will always remember Engineer Hisham El-Shorbagy from Edfu who headed our efforts in assembling a fleet for the governorate. With the help of the Arab Contractors Company we set up Nile ferries for the public relations office of the governorate and to connect villages on the west bank of the Nile with Aswan."

Dahab's contributions to developing his hometown were not confined to his job. He also joined the Arab Socialist Union (the ruling and only legal party in the country in the '60s and early '70s) in an attempt to bring about reform in his village. "I joined what was called the Villages Committee and we would meet to discuss what the villages needed. Of course we have been provided with water and electricity but we still lack any sewage facilities." Even though the list of needs remains, Dahab eventually dropped out of the political organisation. "Politics are for people who have time and I have a living to make," he said, bringing the subject to a close.

Yet his work for the government brought him into intimate contact with political circles. "I have met every important person who ever came to Aswan. During Nasser's time there was Nasser himself, Ben Bella, Khruschev, Sukarno and Nehru. I drove all of them around the Nile and I remember the day they opened the High Dam. It was like the whole world turned upside down -- it was an unbelievable sight."

Being a boatman so close to political circles, especially in Nasser's day, was no simple matter. "Once I had one of Nasser's sons in my boat and he told me you must go faster. I refused and told him: 'If we have an accident I will die with you and if I don't die in the accident, I will die anyway'. I am a very straightforward man you see and there was a big responsibility on my shoulders," he chuckled.

Among his fondest memories of the Sadat period are of taking the late president's wife, Jihan, to visit the Aga Khan's wife. "She would come and wave at me and say: 'Hello Rayyes Dahab! How are you and do you need anything?' She was great. And then there was Kissinger and all those midnight trips he made." Midnight trips? "Yes, I would have to wait for him. It seems that is how he undertook his negotiations. It had to be at midnight!"

To complete our knowledge of the village's history, Mohamed Dahab lured us out of the coolness of his home to trek across the village and see the Stone of Famine. Out of nowhere a fence springs out of the desert and a ticket booth attendant offers us tickets at LE20 to see the pile of rubble before us. Dahab scoffs at the man, "They are my guests and journalists at that." While the man shrugs and lets us in, Dahab mutters angrily. "First they put up an expensive fence when we can't see any reason why -- the boulders have been there for thousands of years and so have we without any need for a fence. Then they raise the entrance fee to LE20 which is the same as other major temples so of course people stopped coming." He walks familiarly around the imposing rocks and stops at the best vantage points to view the Nile. He shows us how before the dam the Nile had submerged islands which are now clearly visible.

We reach the stone which is richly inscribed with hieroglyphs. "It is the story of King Zhoser and his astrologers who predicted seven years of famine. It's the same story as Youssef. During the drought the pharaoh went to the God of the Nile at Elephantine Island who told him he would get water in ten days. When the waters came and people rejoiced they set up this stone and placed it at the source of the Nile within their lands at the first cataract."

The story is not recounted for amusement alone. "I know my history well. It is because of that history that people come to me. It makes me who I am and it is what I must know to tell my children so that they know where they come from. Like the stories we tell them about the old Nile and Nubia. Our history is an epic."

Mohamed Dahab will never leave his island or its waters. He remains to preserve what remains of his heritage. "There is a song which I really like. It says: I am proud. As the palms sway to the weeping sound of the water-wheel, I am proud."

As we are perched up on the stones, he looks out to the expanse of blue water around us and we listen to the water moving swiftly past.

photos: Sherif Sonbol

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