A Journey Back to the Light
In a neighborhood near the port of Alexandria lived a man named Omar. He was in his late thirties, the head of a modest household: his wife Layla, their ten-year-old daughter Mariam, and his elderly mother. He carved his path in life working as a driver of a small transport truck, earning just enough to get by—most days, expenses exceeded income, yet he held firmly to his dignity, choosing to sleep hungry rather than ask for charity.
The Exhausting Morning
Omar woke up to the voice of the neighbor’s daughter calling, “Abdo, wake up! The train’s about to leave!”
He opened his eyes, still drowsy, reached around for one of his wrinkled shirts, pulled out an old one, and put it on quickly. He kissed Layla on the forehead and whispered, “May God make it easy.” She looked at him with tired eyes, but full of trust—she believed his patience would not be wasted. He grabbed his small plastic bag, which held a loaf of bread and some fava beans, and headed toward his old vehicle.
On the way, he passed the little kiosk by the pavement where he usually bought a cup of coffee—but today he said to himself, “Yesterday I couldn’t even afford a single pound for coffee… we have to save every penny.” He thought about how every pound mattered, especially now with rent and daily necessities rising sharply.
When he reached the port, the expressions on his colleagues’ faces were a mix of exhaustion and faint hope. Some murmured inside their larger trucks, while others, like Abu-Salim, complained about the fuel shortage.
“Hey Omar, I heard there might be a new shipment this afternoon—but if we don’t find fuel, we’re going home empty-handed,” Abu-Salim said in a weary voice.
Omar replied quietly, “Try… God is generous.”
The Challenge
Hour after hour passed, and the trucks stood in long lines, waiting for their turn at the loading dock. The sun began to scorch, and the port brimmed with the smoke of ships and the noise of machinery. By evening, the supervisor informed them that the shipment had been delayed due to “unexpected customs procedures.”
The news hit Omar like a hammer. No shipment meant no pay. He thought about Mariam waiting at home to ask whether he had bought her the school candy he had promised. And Layla, who needed an extra loaf of bread to finish preparing dinner.
He sat on an old metal chair near his truck and closed his eyes for a moment. “Why does this keep happening?” he asked himself. A gust of sea wind hit him, carrying the scent of salt—and worry.
Sayed, a colleague of many years, approached him and said, “Man, if you remember ten years ago, there was still some hope… Now? Prices are burning, work is scarce, and everyone is fighting for a bite.”
Omar didn’t reply, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from filling with tears.
An Unexpected Hope
Minutes later, Omar’s phone rang. It was a call from the owner of a small shop in the city center.
“Hey, Omar? I’ve got some small imported goods. I need someone to deliver them to Cairo. Can your truck handle a few kilograms?”
Omar hesitated. He hadn’t planned for a long trip, but when he looked into Sayed’s eyes, he saw the spark of opportunity.
“This is a chance,” he thought.
He answered, “Alright, sir—send me the shipment details.”
The cargo turned out to be small perfumes and inexpensive handbags, and the trip would be along the desert road to Cairo—a long journey, but one that promised a payment far greater than what he would have earned that day.
The Journey
The truck set off late at night. Only the moonlight touched the road. The radio played old melodies: “Sweet ones… just their eyes are enough…” Songs that reached his chest like a soft tremble, wrapped in tiredness and drowsiness.
Minutes passed like hours. The smell of gasoline mixed with the dust of the long road, and the outlines of cities faded behind the darkness.
He stopped at a rest station, bought a hot tea, and lit a cigarette—a moment of calm on the chaotic road. He closed his eyes briefly and watched the stars shimmering above, as if whispering, “Be patient, son of the people.”
Arrival
At dawn, the journey was finally over. The truck stopped in Cairo, at a small warehouse in an old neighborhood. The shop owner received the goods and looked at Omar with surprise.
“Wow… I didn’t expect you to arrive this early, especially after such a long road.”
He handed Omar a generous payment—more than double what he usually earned.
“The next time, it’ll be a bigger shipment—if you’re willing,” the man added.
Omar felt the money in his pocket, his hand trembling slightly. Suddenly, life felt as if it were smiling at him—not with luxury or glitter, but with a chance… a chance to soothe a simple dream.
Returning Home
Omar returned home late at night, long past eleven. He knocked on the door softly.
Layla opened, and immediately sensed something different in his eyes.
“You’re back, Omar?” she asked quietly.
He pulled out a small bag—fresh bread, a piece of cheese, and a little candy for Mariam.
Mariam burst into joyful laughter and hugged him, filling the house with a kind of warmth no money alone could provide—a feeling of safety, that hard days don’t last forever.
He looked at his tired mother, who urged him to support her frail back.
“May God ease your path, my son,” she said. “I’m grateful.”
A Lesson From Reality
What Omar earned wasn’t a fortune, but it was a “breath of hope” in a tired heart.
That night, he realized that life isn’t always about guarantees or lasting stability, but about seizing the small opportunities when they come—grasping them with determination and integrity.
He learned that dignity isn’t bought with large sums of money, but built through persistence and honest work—and that love and unity within the family could give him enough strength to withstand fear and hunger.
Omar’s story didn’t end with a dramatic twist.
It was a daily reminder that there is always room for new hope—for those who refuse to become mere numbers in poverty statistics and instead carry within their hearts a simple dream: a decent life, and a moment of peace.