Belated orphan
By
Naguib Mahfouz
My mother played a huge role in my life. In my youth it was mother who ran the household: she was, if you like, the chief executive officer and not an employee. She had an incredibly powerful link with the children. Fathers would be away working: most of the time you hardly saw them. They would appear only in times of crisis. Mothers, by contrast, were omnipresent. The affection and care I received from my mother has continued to nourish me to the age of 90.
My mother's role was not simply emotional. She imparted knowledge as well. She had this peculiar fascination, not only with shrines and holy sites but with ancient relics irrespective of creed. She took me to the Egyptian Museum dozens of times, to the pyramids and the sphinx. She also took me to the Hanging Church, a constant favourite. She would stand in awe before these monuments, telling me all about them. She was a wanderer, a seeker. I don't know how she acquired such traits but I benefited from them during my childhood.
I was particularly close to my mother because by the time I grew aware of the world around me my brothers and sisters were already married. They had left the house. My father died when I was 10, too, and so the two of us had the entire house to ourselves, which encouraged this sense of closeness and sympathy. She did not die until I was 50, by which time I was a husband and a father, yet still I felt orphaned.
* Based on an interview by Mohamed Salmawy.