Everything is forbidden. What a world. DRIVER: You know what my dream is? To take my taxi in four years’ time and drive as far as South Africa and see the world Cup there. I’ll pile up the pennies for four years and then go explore the African continent from the north of it, where I am now, to the south of it. I’ll cross every African country and drive up the Nile until I come to the start of it, as far as Lake Victoria I mean, and on the way I’ll sleep in the car, and in the boot of the car I’ll stack away food to last me two months, tins of beans and tuna, and a shitload of bread, because I really like bread. WRITER: I didn’t want to tell him that there’s no paved road linking Abu Simbel, the last town in Egypt, with Sudan, and the road stemming from the Toshka road to Sudan is closed, and that there isn’t even a continuous railway line linking Egypt and Sudan, or that even if he reached Sudan then he wouldn’t be allowed to go to southern Sudan without security permits from the Khartoum authorities, which he would not be able to obtain. Or that Cairo taxis aren’t allowed to leave the country...that the African continent is fragmented and disconnected, completely colonized, and that the only people who can still travel there are definitely not the indigenous Africans but rather the white lords, who make the African doors which swing open only for them. in TAXI by Khaled Al-Khamissi african-writing/six/khaledkhamissi.htm
Posted on: Mon, 01 Dec 2014 08:34:04 +0000
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