When is a biography best written? By 40, 60, 70? By 80 is definitely “About
Time” not a day too soon. I was asked, nay, told by my daughter Rosa and granddaughter
Salma to write my autobiography, if for nothing else but for the benefit of the family
members who sought for years to follow the journey of their father and grandfather. They
pleaded for me not to deny them the privilege of at least reading about a part of my life
(due to no fault of theirs ) which they know very little about. This is of course easier said
than done! Actually it was granddaughter, Salma, who decided the issue. She gave me a
pen and a journal and told me to get on with it. This is why I dedicate the memoirs to her.
I came into this world with my hands clenched, ready to fight and I’ll go out of
this world with my hands outstretched asking for mercy. Do I count myself rich or poor?
I honestly do not know if the question is about dollars. However, if money is not the
meaning, I then consider myself rich- No man is poor who has a loving children and
grandchildren- add to that good friends and you count yourself blessed. I never believed I
had a story to tell- at least not one that would be of interest to a lot of people. It was many
of these good friends I have been fortunate to have that strongly disagreed. They tipped
me over the edge into concession. My memoirs were to be written. They yearned for me
to tell them of my success and failures that are a part of every man’s journey in this life.
To go back fifty or sixty years is not like looking into a crystal ball. The
memories are faint and what was just over half a century ago seems very much like
multiple centuries past. Yet, this is a task I must undertake! It is a task I must approach
with great dedication and a sincere desire in order to write a story that could be read with
interest about an eighty-two year old man. If you will permit me, I will interject that I did
not lead even close to a boring life. Because two live are never the same, I hope my
readers will find something in these pages that will enrich their lives. No matter what
backgrounds we come from we are in the end very similar. Men have the same hopes and
aspirations whether in the Sudan or Canada. All our lives enrich many others in more
ways than we think possible. So bare my attempts to touch a few more.
The point at which to immerse all of you into my path is difficult to choose. So let
me first take you off shore. Beneath blues quite foreign to Canada I discovered the
serenity beneath the free waters. Underwater is a silent word. It is a challenging world. It
is like walking (swimming) into the future. It is reminiscent of walking in garden of
unbelievable beauty-a garden not on earth for it holds treasures you cannot think up. At
the same time you are left with nothing but awe for God’s creations. Going underwater is
like going to a place of worship. You cannot be nearer to God, then when you are fifty
feet under the water among the colorful corals and beautiful fish. It is as if the salt water
gets in your blood and you are transformed into one of the sea’s creatures, you are one
with it. For those of you have never taken the plunge, all I can say is that it is a
magnificent feeling-a magnificent obsession! To those who introduced me to the world
beneath those clear waters is my everlasting gratitude. I am sorry I am only one voice to
sing the praise of God. I thought I would share one of my greatest loves with you in this
life first, before we get too serious.
Why don’t I start with today, the first day my story is spilling over these pages,
sitting in a room in Sudan, with nothing but the sound of my own breath to draw on for
inspiration. How fitting that I begin writing my story where my story began. It was only
about a month from now sixty-three years ago that marked one of the most pivotal,
maybe only second to another event, years in my life. I am speaking of January 1945,
when I was in attendance at Comboni College in Khartoum for my last year of secondary
school. Perhaps it marked a larger moment for my father.
Before I further explain the significance of this year, I feel it would be appropriate
to interject some of the sports and cultural activities that have been of consequence
during my school years, and beyond. In 1944, I published my first English poem in the
Sudan Starr. Needless to stay this was a major accomplishment at that time, and still is a
marked memory. In addition, I wrote regularly in the paper by Ahmed Yousif Hashim
called “Elsudan Elgadid” (the new Sudan). I also became Alrim Alam’s correspondent in
Port Sudan; as correspondent I later sent back articles under the heading “From
Overseas.” My writing repertoire was furthered by the aid of a man I met in Cairo by the
name Mohamed Elsawardi. Elsawardi, broke away form the popular newspaper at the
time “Elwafd”, and he formed his own paper “Elkhabar” (The News). This enabled me
to send all my articles to Cairo that I feared would not be published by Elari Elam, due to
my politiccal views not in harmony with the official line. One of my articles enraged the
English Governor of Port Sudan; he told Elsayed Mohamed Elbarbary, an extremely well
known elder son of the richest family in the city and perhaps the country, that he should
tell me to stop writing or else…! When Elbarbary told me to stop, I excitedly told him
“what do you care? I am an Elashi and you are an Elbarbary, and therefore no harm will
come to you!” He vehemently replied, “you fool, don’t you know that Elahsi and
Elbarbary are one family. We rise and fall together.” How could I misjudge? We were
one family; we lived under one roof.
I know life the pen to kick the ball. Sports at Comboni were as important as the
academic studies we were immersed in. therefore, I was fortunate to enjoy playing
basketball, volley ball, and soccer; soccer to this day is one of my deepest loves. When,
in 1946, I became involved in soccer, I lent my name to upgrade the football team
“Elshabiba” to a club with a constitution. I also promoted basketball among some of the
soccer clubs, and local banks. A very difficult job in a city that saw soccer as the
beginning, and end of all sports. I became the president of the Basketball Association;
later I built the only basketball stadium in the Sudan.
Now I’ll get back on topic. My father was born and raised in Alexandria, Egypt
and spent his teenage years as a sailor on the schooners travelling to Greece, Turkey, and
Syria. This early job in life helped him to sustain an income during the first Word War.
The war halted the availability of freight between the Sudan and the Saudia Arabia. So in
these times my father, in small boats, was able to take sugar, flour and oil from Port
Sudan to Jeddah. These trips were so profitable it helped him expand his future business
to include exporting and importing. During this period in time, my father’s future brother
in-law Hafez Elbarbury got married to my aunt, and soon after my father married my
mother. These unions marked all of our ways of life for a very long time. After these
marriages, the families of Elbarbury, and Elashi lived under one roof. Even after the two
heads dies, their children continued at the same address. As we grew up we did not see
any difference between Elbarbury, or Elashi- we were one family.
My father and Hafez, established their business in 1906. The establishment was
marked by a signed document that showed my father contributed 27pounds and Hafez 25
pounds. It was an equal partnership with God as their witness. This partnership was
formed in 1906 was never officially registered. In 1942, my father who could not read or
write, made a big contribution to the business when he followed the British and Sudanese
Armies into Eritrea. In Eritrea, under difficult circumstances, he traded goods; coming
back with a sack of silver coins. I helped him count and stack those coins. However, in
1943 friends of my father advised me to seek registering the business. With this advise,
my father, accompanied by Hafez went to register; Hafez insisted the company be of
equal shares. But, my father maintained that the company should be registered two-thirds
Hafez, and one third Elashi. He reasoned that he had 7 children in comparison to Hafez’s
14; it was only right that al the children’s inheritance be equal. It took several months for
Hafez to accept this split that went against the original agreement. My father, however,
did not count the four children he had with his second wife. To this day, this oversight is
causing me a lot of displeasure, and in my own way I’ve been trying to rectify this error.
In 1945, while at Comboni was when I got the news of Hafez’s deaf in Port
Sudan. Within a few months a new partnership was formed between my father and his
nephews (Hafez’s sons). Because their grocery shop needed one person to run it, my
father stayed on working the dry-dock. The shop came to be known as Hafez Elbarbary.
With the new company was formed, my father nephews, insisted that he retain one third
while they keep the two third, the original ratio; although after paying their sister’ off, his
nephews’ share was a left at a mere 16,000 pounds, while my father’s cash value came to
24,000 pounds.
I finished my studies at Comboni, and applied to Columbia University in the
States; I was accepted. At this time, the family business was slow; it was mainly was left
to distribute its share of imports based on pre-war quantities. These quotas included piece
goods and twills, tea, and matches. Soon the war in Europe came to an end, and I left for
Cairo, Egypt to find passage to the States. In August, upon arrival in Cairo, I applied for
an Egyptian passport; I was issued one after I paid 22 pounds in lieu Army service. I still
have this passport and certificate. I registered with Thomas Cook, and my wait began.
Since the first five years of my schooling coincidently was in Suez; where I had lived
with my grandmother, my uncle and two aunts I headed back to my beginnings to wait
for my future. In patience and in Suez, I waited for Thomas Cook’s call.
On the first day I arrived at my aunt’s house, my aunt had company; a young
women and her mother. Sitting in that room I decided I liked what I say; that young
women would be my future wife. That very evening, I visited her father, and told him in
no uncertain terms, that I was pleading for his daughter’s hand; I told him I expected an
emphatic yes. Even though, I exhibited a confident exterior, I was shaking inside; her
father had already turned down my older brother. Her father was adamant that he did not
want his beautiful daughter living in the hot primitive Sudan. However, I had an ally in
her mother; I suppose it did not hurt my chances that my future wife preferred me to two
other suitors.
I travelled often between Suez, Cairo and Alexandria until February 1946; this is
when I decided to go back home, as I was getting bored of doing nothing. On February
18th I left for Port Sudan. Ironically, it was that same day, as I was riding the waves of the
Red Sea, that Thomas Cook wrote the letter telling me that at last there was passage
available. Alas, it was one day to late; I dedicated myself to working for the firm. My fate
was sealed.
Here I go to what I call the “Quiet Years.” During these years, business was slow
in developing; March 1946 was no different form March 1947. The months dragged on
and on. Yet, 1946 marked the on going battle for me to get the girl. In this year, my father
was convinced that my future father in-law would not agree to his daughter marrying me.
In an attempt to find me a wife, my father approached the head of the Elbarbary family ,
one of the most respected men in Port Sudan, for the hand of his daughter. The two were
very good friends, but the same girl still had these two other die-hard suitors. This began
a saga. Every night, my father, my mother and his sister, met and talked and talked about
the marriage proposal, and my insistence that our efforts only be directed to convincing
my her father in allowing his daughter to come to Port Sudan. This became a long story
and as the day passed, it became even longer. When, after a year no word was from the
other side, my father at last allowed me to write to the Mohamed Elbarbary to officially
ask for the young beauty’s hand.
Talk about in many sports that inches decided the outcome of a match; I would
like to talk about an hour that decided my future. It was one blazing hot afternoon in the
summer of 1947 when I got a cable that came through the Eastern Telegraph company;
the most efficient and reliable telegraph company at the time. The cable read: “we agree
to this marriage.” That afternoon, my father was in the railway station on his way to stay
with his friend Mohamed Elbarbary, in Sinkat. Sinkat is the summer resort for those
living in Port Sudan; it lies 2000 ft above sea level in comparison the Port Sudan’s
measly 6ft. As the train was pulling out of the station, I told my father that my future
father-in-law accepted our proposal. When my father arrived in Sinkat, he was welcomed
with loud cheers; because I was the one accepted to marry the Mohamed’s daughter.
After his arrival in Sinkat, my father had to tell them I became impatient waiting for an
answer; that I had wrote to my Mohamed that I am no longer a suitor. Had my father
arrived without the news from Suez that afternoon, he would have irrevocably committed
to the Elbarbary girl! I miss on America by one day, and committed to a marriage by one
hour. It is often said by Moslems: “ it is decided in Heaven before it is done on earth;”
how true! Come February 1948, I was on my way to Suez with my mother. The wedding
on February 18th was a simple affair, unlike weddings at the time that were festive and
typically went on for days. After the wedding we began to live in that big house In Port
Sudan. Both my older brother and older cousin each lived in one room enclosed with a
personal veranda. After my mother’s passing; s one bedroom and living room, with our
own bathroom became our private living quarters, for the next twenty years.
My married life was not a bed of rose; we had our quarrels like most other
couples. If blame had to be assigned, it would certainly fall on me, and not my wife. I
often came home late from the club, and in 1949 I was the first Commissioner from Port
Sudan to travel to Europe. My annual trips to Europe did not contribute to the lace of
stability of my married life. In addition, the business was growing and expanding into
new spheres. We had three children, and in due time they went to Suez to stay with my
mother-in-law and sister in law. The education in Suez surpassed what was offered in the
Sudan. Eventually, my wife took residence in Cairo, near the English school my children
later attended.
Back in Port Sudan, my father sold his share in the company to my two brothers
and myself. The company was owned by four Elbarbary’s and three Elashi’s, each with
equal shares. Even though my younger brother and two of the Elbarbary’s were still in
school, all were treated as active partners. The business arm was run by my cousins,
Mohamed and Ahmed, and myself. My other brother, Yousif, did not participate in the
business dealings; he was happy to do his part as our representative at the Customs.
Mohamed and Ahmed ran the import department, as I became in charge of all exports as
well as of our relationship with the banks. As the sons took over the business, indulgence
in borrowing became a reality, unlike our fathers. Through our business adventures we
had very modest pocket money, as my father, untill his death was in charge of buying our
food and clothes. He provided everything we needed, the benefit of living in one large
house. In fact, our household became so expansive that meals were set for the men, the
children, the wives, and then the servants. The relationship between all us brothers and
cousins was so close, we had no disagreements or even arguments. As we saw it, we were
all brothers with one goal in mind: to work for the success of the business. By any
measure, we did succeed. Hafez Elbarbary was placed as one of the leading Sudanese
companies of the Sudan. Our head office remained in Port Sudan, though in 1950
expansion was necessary; so I went to Khartoum to establish a branch in the capital; later
Ahmed and Yousif took over running this branch. Time went on, and with all things, so
apparent in my life, things change. A few year later, two of the partners wanted out, and
then there were five.
In 1951 during a visit to London, I met Dick and Felix Hamburger, whose
business dealings included dealing in Gum Arabic. Gum Arabic was a commodity that
always fascinated me, but I did not dare venture into this enchanted area; I was
respectively told that this was a dangerous way to make a living. The hamburgers and I
decided to go in on a joint venture that soon led to a joint company; I took care of the
purchases and they attended to the marketing. The business proved to be good for both
parties and our friendship grew over the years even after the expropriation in 1970. To
this day I am still I touch with their children and grandchildren. More good friends that I
came to treasure were brought into my life through my travels. During my annual trips to
Kordofan to visit with the agents in AL-Obeid, Umrawaba and Tandati are some of the
times that brought me even closer to people I respected and loved.
Our main business was building materials and imports of flour, soap and B.twills.
soon we expanded our horizons and added ship agencies, insurance, Gum, skins, sesame
seeds, and ground nuts. Two of our most established activities were Mother of Pearl and
Trocas shells. Twice a week I attended the auction at Flamingo bay; the competition
between merchants was something to definitely see! In harmony with the swelling of the
company, we went into partnership with two Japanese companies establishing the
Sudanese Steel Factory. Everything was going swimmingly, well fairly, until 1967.
One morning I thought I had an inspired idea, applying for a piece o land to build
a school, under our company’s name. I wrote a letter to the City’s Clerk with the proposal
for this inspired project. However, to my great astonishment and disappointment
Mohamed Elbarbary did not approve, and sat down to nullify my letter. I reasoned with
Mohamed that we should first consult Ahmed in Khartoum on the decision, and proceed
with his verdict. Ahmed, shockingly, was vehemently against the building of a school in
his father’s name! I had lost my case! I turned to Mohamed and told him that I would
write to the City Clerk and withdraw my proposal. But I said I would withdraw the
proposal in the name of Elbarbary, on the other hand, my father’s name was my own
affair. As I wrote this letter, I let it be know to the City Clerk that the proposal was for the
Elashi Secondary School for Girls. I comforted my partners and explained to them that I
would pay for construction of the school myself. The elected President of the Sudan was
vacationing in Erkowit, famous as a summer resort; so one of my friends telephoned the
him to come and lay the foundation stone. Fortunately, he was by profession a teacher; he
welcomed the invitation. Ismail Elzhart was also the first President of the independent
Sudan. It was a joyous occasion attended by most of the who is who in town. Standing
with adamant decision, Mohamed did not attend. I never regretted that I went against my
business partners; I knew it was the right decision long before first class was in
attendance. Construction went quite quickly, and in less than one year the school had its
first class. In February 1969, my friend once again called the President and told him that
the school for which he laid the first stone for, was not running and in attendance by all
girls. Shortly after, the President came with an entourage of about forty ministers and
deputies. In his speech, the President said he wished he could carry the school in his
plane and tour the Sudan, so that people could see how beautiful it was. What an honor, it
was for me, to have the President come and sing praise. When I last visited the school in
2008, it had been renovated and looked as if it were built yesterday with new desks and
chairs and trees planted in the yard. The school is attended by 670 pupils with 175
graduating every year. Most of the graduates even go on to higher education. In 1968
many approved of the school, and many parents no longer disapproved of their daughters
going to school 800 Km away. To say some were against the school would be an
understatement. If you can imagine such attitude!
After the expropriation, Mohamed mockingly told me that I was expropriated in
spite of the fact I built the school; I told him, : he who built the school for the
Government should cry for the lost money, and he who built the school for the people,
the people then the people know who is on their side and who is against him.’ When the
expropriation tool place we all immigrated to Canada, except for my brother Joseph. We
were each on our own. The business relationship has come to an end; soon after the blood
relationship also came to an end, this however, is part of the story to follow.
A chapter is closed that started in 1906 and continued to be written by the sons of
the founding fathers. The fathers were close devoted friends that inspired the children to
follow in their footsteps; us sons did follow in those footsteps, for the most part, for the
longest time. But like all good things that come one day to an abrupt end, so did this
chapter in what was otherwise a wonderful saga. However, I cannot close this chapter but
with reference to Mohammed refusing to let me buy the building materials we sell at cost
for a school that bore the name of his uncle, when all partners were allowed to buy
materials at cost for the construction of their houses. The school, I regarded as my house
too. Ironically, one of our competitors sold me what I needed at cost. A late note: I sold
all real estate I owned and spent all the cash in the bank and had to give up my living
room at that time for the headmaster’s office. I did not feel I became poorer!
A flash back to the mid 50’s when I started traveling behind the Iron Curtain. As
the communist countries did not have companies as we know them in western countries,
all business was done with ministries, you had to go there in person. They made a big
propaganda of the fact, so many western companies people came calling. I soon learned
to play the game unlike back home where I usually dressed in European attire. In Leipzig,
East Germany, Poznan, Poland or Zagreb, Yugoslavia, I put on the traditional Sudanese
dress (the Jalabia and Turban0. I was not only a star to the average visitor, but I had TV
and press interviews. My stand was decorated with a few underwater pictures, ivory
figures, crocodile, snake, and handbags made of these skins. My real reason of being
there was to sell Mother of Pearl shells, ground nuts, kernels and sesame seed. The
Spring Fair lasted two weeks in early March, and the Autumn Fair was early September
for ten days. The trips were well worth the effort. There were only two of us exhibiting
from the Sudan in Leipzig and I alone went Poznan and Zagreb. Enjoyable as the trips
were, the experiences they gave me, being behind the Iron Curtain was no easy matter as
you had to be extra careful to follow the prescribed routes and stay away from politics
talking even to a wall!
By the end of my years in Suez my grandmother died and my brother and I went
to stay with one of my four aunts. She was a very strong minded women. All the Elashi
women were hygiene aware, but this aunt was especially meticulous in keeping a clean
house. The year and a half I was with my aunt were the happiest of my stay in Suez.
During these years the relations between my future father-in-law and my family were
strained. This meant I did not come I did not know my future wife, Awatif, as I only saw
her once or twice in the five and a half years I was in Suez.
My education took a sharp turn when we transferred from Suez to Khartoum.
Comboni College was becoming know for providing high quality education and a strict
discipline code. We lived in the boarding house and rarely saw the streets around us.
Once a month we were taken for a picnic in the open spaces of Khartoum. While at the
boarding house, we had a montly allowance of 50 Piastres; this we used to buy food to
supplement what the school provided. Everything at Comboni was regimented. The exact
time we had to go to bed was set with no discussion: the exact time we received our
wake-up call: the exact time breakfast was served, whether your got there or not.
Comboni was both a primary and a secondary school. All students were allotted to one
of four “houses”: York, Lancaster, Norfolk and Kent. As members of these houses we
competed in all sorts of sports. All competitions were of a healthy nature and made us
belong to groups that became like family. Both me and my brother were put in the 3rd
grade (Grade 7).
In 1940-41 while I was in my last year of primary school the Italians entered the
war siding with Germany; this led to the closing of the school, which happened to be run
by Italian Priests. My brother went back to Port Sudan while I stayed on in the boarding
house until I sat for my school certificate provided by the Egyptian Ministry of
Education.
Soon after, as luck with have it, the Coptic College started a “Commercial
Section” that accommodated Comboni students teaching it’s subjects in English. I joined
the “C.S” and became a boarder at the school for 9 months. Here, however, the rules here
were a bit loose and discipline unheard of. We were there for our education and education
we got. One of our teachers was one of the most well known brothers – The Ashri
brothers, our English teacher was Abdullah who was also on of the great poets of Arabic
literature.
At Comboni College, I did not have any friends, this changed at “C.S” were I
made several. One is Kamil from Kamlin who joined from Comboni as well, but I did not
know him then. Another good friend I made at “C.S” was Salah Elbereir - this family
was on of the most well known in Omdurman. Through my friendship with Kamil I
encountered many memeories of longevity. Kamil invited me to Kamilin; it was a
memorable visit as for the first me in my life I was in a true village in the heart of Sudan.
At breakfast several of the neighbors brought trays with food for the guests to share with
them; the same at lunchtime. I was not a guest of Kamil but of the whole village. Unlike
in Kamiln, back home no-one outside the family ever visited. It is worth mentioning here
that when I first went to Kamilin in 1942 there was no electricity; the only way to hear
the news about the war was if a lorry was staying overnight so that its battery could be
used to generate power. The Kamilin hospitality left an impression on me that stays with
me until now. Since then I visited Kamiln several times- the last in 1998.
In 1947 I came to know another friend form Kamlin; his name is Mohamed Zein.
Mohamed who became a very, very close friend that will be mentioned often as I write
about our sea activities.
Kamil always spoke for his admiration and affection about the Comboni years and
his idol Father Baroni, the Principal, who was a very exception administrator and teacher.
Later Father Baroni was made Bishop of Khartoum. He did not particularly like his new
title. I know this first hand.
When Bishop Baroni visited Port Sudan, I took him for a fishing trip. As he was
hauling in a fish I shouted “ Father – not so fast;” I then realized I should have called hm
by his new title Bishop. When I apologized he told me very definitely “ I prefer you call
me Father.”
I met many great men in my life but Bishop (Father) Baroni tops the list. I was
lucky I was on of his students.
It was from him that I heard for the first time these lines that guided me as I
trudged on in life:
I slept and dreamt that life was beauty
But I woke and found that life was duty
It was therefore with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that in 1943 after the
Italians were driven from Eritrea and Ethopia that Comboni College opened once again.
This time, however, the boarding school was limited to the very young. Two of my
cousins Ahmed and Sayed and I went to live in Omdurman with friends of our family –
the Gabbanis. We stayed there for a year before we rented two rooms by the Central
Train Station.
That puts me into the 3rd year of secondary school. Our Arabic teacher was Karaf
a well known and respected teacher for his intimate and deep knowledge of the Arabic
language. Karaf was also a highly admired poet. Many years later in 1989 he dedicated a
poem to me – singing me praises for what he recognized as my generosity towards my
friends and my city Port Sudan, a book is being printed today containing many of his
poem of that time. To count Abdullah Ashri and Karaf as teachers I learned from and
friends I associated with is a privilege very few can boast of. This brings, for the time
being, an end to my scholastic years as I finished in 1945, my 4th year and closed the
curtains to academia.
It is said that a man who stops learning is a man who stops living. Since I was
twelve I read books unrelated to my studies, especially history books, pre Islam- Saudi
Arabia and the dawn of Islam and the years that followed when the Moslems ruled most
of the world: from the gates of China, north to Russia, most of North and Central Africa
into Andalusia and Spain. After the death of the prophet Mohamed and the reign of the
first three Caliphates disillusion set in and the in-fighting was the order of the day. This
era was one of the intrigues with Moslems fighting each other. I was fascinated with this
period and the events that ked to Damascus being the seat of Islam instead of Medina.
I also read and memorized many Arabic poems including some of the most
famous. My readings were not exclusively Arabic literature. I read English poetry
especially Khayyam translated by Fitzgerald and Wordsworth and Tennyson. The
English books that had influence on me were: The Citadel and The Keys of the Kingdom,
both by A.J Cronin. From these two books I learned there is a fundamental difference
between outward fake appearances and true dedication to duty and the service to others
without seeking a reward; confirming what I once learnt when still young. “ He should
not have been born – he who live for his own selfish interests.”
There are two other books that touched me deeply. One is: “The Little Prince,”
who learned from a fox what is really important from life. The other book is: “The 25th
Hour;” Johann Mauritz who suffered throughout his life due to nothing he said or did to
deserve the agony he endured.”
At the beginning of my story, I wrote about January 1945, and how it was one of
the most pivotal years of my life; now come time for the second. ( pg.14 put at end)
I have to go back to the beginning when I was seven. After attending a Madrasa
(Koran school) for five years, I was sent to Suez to be under care of my grandmother.
The first prep school I attended was Wadi Elnil for one year. Elnahda was my next stop
for the two years. I then attended the Suez primary school as we had moved into a house
in that neighborhood. During the summer holidays, I travelled back to Port Sudan with
my brother Yousif. Together we travelled bysea with either one of the two post-ships Taif
or Talodi. They were very slow boats and stopped three times until we got to Port Sudan.
Our pocket money was no more than two cents – one in the morning and one in the
afternoon. You could buy a lot with one cent in those day; our pocket money went up to
ten piastres, during the Bairams. This pocket money paid for rides on the carousel and
paid for a cinema ticket as well as a Kebab sandwich. It did not cost anything to watch a
magician do his tricks; that we got for free.
Shortly after the inauguration of the school, I left by the end of February 1969 for
holidays in Europe. It is worth mentioning two conversation I had with President Azhari
when he arrived in Port Sudan by train coming from Erkewit, he ordered everybody out
of the carriage. He was full of praise for what I was about to do. He asked me what favor
I wanted so that the country could show its appreciation for my contribution to the
education of women in the Sudan, which until that time was not a priority for the
Ministry of Education. My reply was that I ask for nothing in return and that I find great
satisfaction in building this school.
A year and a half later, after the official inauguration of the school we had lunch
at the Red Sea Hotel: Azhari was sitting next to me. He again expressed his admiration
for the school and asked me what he could do to show his thanks and gratitude. again I
said I needed nothing. However, I said he could do something for the school by providing
a Bus fo the girls who lived far away from the school. He immediately called the Minister
of Transportation who was in the room who was in the room and ordered for the
immediate delivery of the Bus. As luck would have it, there were several Mercedes buses
in Port and within a few days there was bus with the school’s name on making free
transportation for many of the pupils.
Shortly after I arrived in England a military coup took place led by Numeiri. As
soon as I heard of the coup, I decided I did not want to go back to a country that saw two
military coups within the span of twelve years.
I called my family from Cairo to meet me in Beirut. We had a very nice vacation
as it is indeed a very beautiful city and the people very friendly. I applied for all of us to
emigrate to Canada. Although I felt very comfortable living in England. I knew for sure
that my children would ever be accepted as British even if they became naturalized. My
wife and children went back to Cairo while I proceeded to England where I waited for an
answer from the Canadian Consulate in London.
During the year 69/70 I stayed in Send where the Hamburgers’ factory and offices
were- still are.
Felix had been dead for several years, so I became very close to Dick: he
regularly invited me for dinner. Dick and I went every Monday to a Spa in London and to
a Chinese or Italian restaurant after.
Saturdays were reserved for football in the afternoon and the theatre after.
I joined the Bridge Club and every Monday I was a regular face. I soon made
many friends – a rare feat amongst bridge players.
When the hotel doubled the weekly rate, a lady friend offered her bungalow free
as she worked for a family and came home only on weekeds. I accepted this generous
offer but did reciprocate by inviting her as my guest in Canada together with her
girlfriend.
One day I had an argument with the secretary of the club. I thought this fight
would be the end of my contact with the club. How wrong I was. Practically all members
of the club were on my side against the secretary. They saw it was not cricket: talk about
fair. I knew the English many years. I thought I knew them well. Only in Send I came to
know then really well.
In May, 1970, the Numeiri regime nationalized all foreign companies and
expropriated the big Sudanese companies. Our company was expropriated and the
directors were not allowed to do business in the future. Each one of us received £10,000
– a total of £50,000 from a possible £800,000!
I was right to apply in 1969 to emigrate to Canada. I told my wife and children to
proceed to Beirut. By August I received the landed immigrant papers for all of us,
I left London a few days before my 44th birthday and waited for the family to
arrive in Montreal two days later.
We took the train to Vancouver on the west Coast as it was known to have a mild
climate and Victoria as the retirement Capital of Canada. It is a long rip through the
prairies and towards the end of the Rocky Mountains.
Here I must mention what Canada came to mean to me. As I arrived in Montreal
and showed the passport officer my papers, he said to me: “Welcome to your new
country.”
The last word I heard from my country of birth, where I helped in a minor way get
rid of the English occupiers and where by our business activities we were in a way
freeing the coountry’s economy of the stranglehold that foreign companies had. Yes the
last words were “We do not want you.” This from people who trampled the constitution
and drove the Presidential Palace riding on top of tanks. They put in prison people whose
devotion and service to the country could never be question.
After Numeiri was ousted came a brief period of civilian rule that was pushed
aside by yet another coup!
Dictators will come and go and in the end the meek shall inherit the earth. From
the 25th hour I still remember these word –
“Then in the end God will take pity on man and save him, like he has done in the
past, time and time again. Meanwhile the handful of men who have remained human will
float over surface of waters like Noah in his Ark. They alone will not be dragged to the
bottom by the chains of slavery.”
My father also taught me to always hold the high moral ground. Be a good
listener and stay always from what does not concern me.
I arrived in Canada having sworn to two resolutions: not to go to sea again as I
did not want to smear my memories of the dear friends I went to sea with back home. The
second resolution was never to go in to a business that requires more than three
employees. We were expropriated because we were a big company. I did not think I
would be expropriated but what happened goes deep into a man’s being, soul, and will
take many yers to be forgotten.
At the same time, I had to prepare myself to meet the challenges I would face in
this far away country.
I had to start from scratch in a country that does not deal in my field of expertise.
No Gum Arabic, no Shells, no Skins, no Sesame Seed or Ground Nuts what about the
language, the religion, the ethnic complexion, the cold weather etc, etc. I was soon
pleasantly surprised that my trepidation and fear of the future were unfounded.
Within the first three days my daughter was accepted in Grade 12 as she would
have been in Cairo. My two sons, Amr and Sam had to improve their English before soon
after attending Vancouver City College and all three went to Simon Fraser University; in
due course all three graduated.
During the Christmas mail rush they were hired to sort letters and parcels, thus
they earned their own pocket money. I soon discovered, reading the papers, that real
estate is a big business in Canada. First there are always immigrants arriving from abroad
and some migrate from the East. Secondly, Canadians move on the average once every
four years. Back home families stayed in one house for decades. Nobody sold real estate
except as a last resort in dire situtions. Real estate deals were kept on the Q.T!
Every day I read about the real estate companies advertising to recruit salesmen
for the “Pre-Licensing Course” as to sell real estate a person needed a license.
I took the course that involved a lot of reading and submitting an assignment once
a week. Towards the end of the course, attending a University clas fo real estate law was
mandatory. I sat for the exam after about four months. I waited like a ten year old pupil
for the result.
I passed and joined one of the biggest companies in Richmond, a suburb of
Vancouver. I attended all sales meetings and went on tour with the rest of my colleagues.
At the weekends, I held “Open house” for other salesmen listing s until
I got my own listings.
My business experience helped me put together some of the more intricate deals. I
was able to earn a decent living as a salesman.
Within two years I was able with financial support from English friends to go into
development.
Developments were taken by large companies who went for large properties that
could be developed without undue delay. I went for small properties that could be took
time to assemble and at the same time had an element of risk as one did not know if and
when all the pieces could be put together. There were the reluctant owners and the greedy
ones who wanted more money than their neighbors. However, I was lucky with my first
venture. All went without undue delays. I got the support of the Richmond Savings Credit
Union that was essential for a speedy development.
At the time all developers worked on assuming $2,000 profit per lot which meant
a return of 20% in 6 months. When my lots were ready for sale in 1973 the market took a
surprising upward trend and instead of $2,000 a lot, I made for my friends and myself
$15,000 a lot. With my newly acquired capital I was able to begin assembling another
sub-division. There were many properties known as VLA. These are lands sold to
veterans by the Government at cheap prices and they had to be ½ or 1 acre in size. For a
reason I could not comprehend, these lands were sold for the price of the house only with
no value for the back land. It was easy to get financing as the rent practically covered the
mortgage. Very soon I was the owner of a few acres that cost me next to nothing.
Within two years I was able to proceed with a large sub-division again with the
help of the R.S.C Union. When the lots sold at a good profit I decided to do something
with the money that I strongly believed was a gift from God.
I wrote to my nephew Hassan and friend Mohamed Zein to as the Governor of
Port Sudan for a piece of land to build a hospital. The Governor provided the land next to
the old hospital. He suggested it become a hospital to deal with emergencies as there
were many accidents in the Port and nowhere to help the infirmed.
By 1982 the hospital was built and all the equipment was shipped from London.
The Hospital was complete and after thirteen years of absence, I returned to Port Sudan
for the inauguration.
Many of my friends wanted me to have Numeiri do the honor. I vehemently
refused and insisted the Governor of the Eastern Province, a native of Port Sudan, should
come and open it.
Te people of Port Sudan were so overwhelmed by this occasion that they held a
lunch attended by hundreds. It touched a deep vein in them that a man who was
expropriated used money made in foreign lands to help his city of birth.
The hospital was and still is a beautiful building – it has recently been renovated
by the Ministry of Health. I too changed the furniture a few years earlier.
Some of the speeches and poems delivered at the opening were indeed
memorable. Rosa had a good speech that started with “ May God bless my father.” She
also said, addressing me, “ You taught us to love strangers as much as we love relative; to
choose associating with the poor more than the rich, and defend and stand by the weak
against the strong. You always reminded up with the poets lines:
“We did not leave our country of our own free will but it was God’s will that is
done.”
This statement was meant to show that we held no hard feelings due to the way I
was treated. A friend wrote a poem that contained the following lined:
“Living far away after what ahs happened did not change you.
You stand tall like a mountain with your head held high.
After thirteen years, you still are going strong.
Though far yet you think about what the people’s needs.” She also said “ I came
to tell you of the love of Port Sudan that fills the heart of my father but will go back and
tell my brothers, Amr and Essam that Port Sudan loves your father.”
In my speech, I thanked Hassan and Mohamed Zein, my friend and the engineer
who designed and supervised the construction. I mentioned how my father treated
dislocated bones – a skill he learned when he sailed as a young man all over the
Mediterranean. One of the telegraphs read “Congratulations on the opening of the
hospital – this after you built the Athletic Stadium and the Elashi School for Girls. Only
God knows what will come next!”
For a long time the operating theatre was where all operations were done as the
old hospital deteriorated so that it was not safe to use its theatre.
The walk-in clinic gives very good service to a lot of patients.
When I last visited the hospital in 2008 my portrait still stood in the entrance hall.
When I returned to Canada, I found that real estate hit rock bottom and interest rates went
up as high as 24% - unheard of levels. A lot of builders and developers declared
bankruptcies. We were spared this embarrassment because our borrowing ratio 25% of
value when others borrowed up to 80% of value. When real estate collapses nothing can
save the day. nobody buys at any price. I believe those who watch the markets, end of
2008, know what I mean. This in spite of interest rates of 5% and 6% and not 24%!
It took several years for the market to turn around. B.C lagged behind Ontario, which
came out of the recession two years sooner. When the banks were again in favor of taking
mortgages from developers, I started to prepare land I held in East Richmond and signed
the services contract in 1987. We sub-divided part of the land and sales by 1989 we were
good. As we started on the second of three phases, suddenly the market went cold and
buyers disappeared. The bank, true to what all banks would do when a client is
experiencing difficulty times, asked for the repayment of the loan which stood at several
millions! All our assets were in land and the values still showed that the loan was well
covered. However, land is not cash.
An old Sudanese friend who settled in England in 1970 when I went on to Canada
came to the rescue. I was able to raise some cash and with my friend’s help paid off the
bank in full.
This time the slow-down lasted only two years. I was able to get a loan through
the same bank and branch where the manager knew me well to rust my business
judgment and business sense ?Greta di Hendi? Before the end of 1992 I was selling the
third phase which comprised of 25 building lots and 37 town houses. We calculated the
lots would sell for $115,000 and the town houses for $210,000. We actually sold the lots
for $145,000 and the town houses for an average of $240,000. I again became a man of
means! I was able to pay all my debts and was holding revenue producing properties and
if the bank asked about my cash flow I could show them the green pack I carried in my
hip pocket!
On my way to Mecca to thank God for his gifts I stopped to see my Sudanese
friend who now had business in Brussels as well. I told him I intended to build houses in
Port Sudan for the Homeless and that I would hand the keys to the Government to
dispose of them. he told me it was a bad idea because the homes would be given to
relatives and friends of the officials and very few, if any, will go to the poor.
He suggested I do something to help the agriculture around Port Sudan, since
most if not all of the vegetables sold in Port Sudan came from Kassala or Khartoum.
My friend was a member of the Council of S.O.S (Save our Soil) a UK
organization that was doing valuable work in several African countries including Sudan.
Its work was in a belt called Sahil. (Known by the British as the Fuzzy Wuzzy)
I thought it was a good suggestion. My father whose second-wife was from the
Biga used to help the farmers in Khor Arbaat by providing them with good seeds and
repairing existing wells and building new ones.
After I returned from Mecca I established a non-profit organization in Canada
called “Environment Trust for Africa.” As soon as it was registered we deposited our
contribution and sent it to S.O.S UK in London. They then sent a farm expert to
investigate the conditions alon the coast from north of Port Sudan to the south near the
old city Suakim. He recommended we devote our attention to Khor Arbaat so they sent
an expatriate to supervise the work and establish the “Ali Elashi Extension Centre.” The
office was then taken over by Sudanese qualified agricultural engineers. The work
improved the quality and quantity of the vegetables supplied to Port Sudan market. After
four years I got a letter from the minister of Agriculture recognizing that 30% of
vegetables sold in Port Sudan came from Arbaat! Soon water melons were sold in
Khartoum and exported to Saudi Arabia. S.O.S received funds from individuals and
foundations and the Government of Jersey in support of our rehabilitation work in Khoor
Arbaat. Lady Elizabeth Bingham whose husband was the Lord Chief Justice of England
was anle to get contributions from the lottery of several hundred thousand pounds which
was allotted for the education of the women of Khor Arbaat.
Numeiri (remember him?) awarded me the Gold Citation for Services to
Education. This certificate lies at the bottom of my desk at home,
The people of Arbaat sent me a citation signed by the head of the tribe at the east
section and the head of the tribe at the west section. I hang this certificate in my living
room. It reads: A CERTIFICATE OF GRATITUDE AND APRRECIATION
Sayed: Ali Mohamed Elashi
In appreciation for your donation to your family in Arbaat now that the land is
green and the sacks are full and the signs of prosperity is on the horizon, in the name of
the residents of Arbaat, men, women and children we thank-you very much and show our
aprreciation in recognition of those who are true and generous
The Residents of Arbaat
Kunub District Red Sea State
On their behalf
Hasum Owly
Ali Hagmoussa
For the Farmers
For the Farmers
Of Western Arbaat
Of Eastern Arbaat
Dated 14th December, 1996
Port Sudan
I was visiting my son in Cairo when my grandchildren Mohamed and Hala, who
ever in their teens, mentioned the four gifts I donated to Port Sudan. Suddenly Mohamed
asked how much money I would now have, had I not made these donations? I thought for
a minute before I answered “ Probably fifteen million dollars.” Mohamed was clearly
disappointed. Hala, however, said that she was glad her grandpa was so generous, adding
that we were still well off. When I told my Sudanese friend what was said, he angrily
asked me if I believed in God or not. I answered that of course I believed in God. He then
said “ Had you not given as you did, today you would most probably be as poor as a
church mouse. What you have now has been saved ad grew because of your giving.” I
was sorry I even thought I would have been richer holding on to my money. Giving is not
losing.
When my wife died, January, 2008, after sixty years of marriage, my children and
I decided to build a project that will carry her name. it was decided it would be an
institution for those with special needs. This will be our next donation and hopefully not
the last.
It is written in the Koran “ He who seeks the rewards for his labor in the here after
will get plenty more and he who seeks his rewards in life, will get what he deserves but
will get nothing more on Judgment Day.”
In the end giving is twice as blessed. It blesses him who gives and him who
receives.
Compare this culture and values to what shocked me in Canada when I ventured
into real estate and came to learn that a buyer should beware of being cheated or lied to. “
Buyer Beware” is still good advice as unseen and hidden defaults are not declared.
I remember my father told me how sellers went out their way to serve their
customers. He said he once heard a produce seller telling a customer buying tomatoes
that his tomatoes were two days old but has competitor next door had just received a
delivery of fresh tomatoes! I like our Arabic teaching of honesty, one of our prophet’s
saying revered by all Moslems . “A cheater cannot be one of us.” Another is that at least
in towns and cities people keep to themselves. They do not open their houses and hearts
to their neighbors although their religion tells them to “love they neighbor.” But this
commandment is not as strong and clear as in Islam. Our prophet said “ Gabriel kept
telling me to look after my neighbor until I thought he would nect tell me, he has the right
to inherit me!”
Before I go on to a different phase of my life. The Sea, I would like to mention a
few things that may have not been important yet to remember these quasi insignificant
tidbits I believe they are yet worth mentioning. Mostly they illustrate in no small way
what life was like and the reader may pass over them or find a reason to wonder how life
changed.
In my first trip to London in 1949 I flew to Cairo and my trip took exactly 24
hours, with two stops. One in Castle Benita in Tripoli, overnight, what really should have
been a short hop. Our Dakota, served in the war, and with new curtains on the windows
seemed quite reliable to me, I doubt if I travelled at more that 200Km an hour. on the
plane, my neighbor told me when in London to go and see the show at the Windmill
Theatre at the Great Windmill Street. I did go there and saw girls showing more of
themselves than I ever thought allowed. However, I do remember the comedian who told
joke, one joke he said – “I was told there are two women to every man in this town – but
someone must have four!”
In London I discovered cornflakes and tomato soup. I could live on £1 a day (not
£100 as is today). I was put up by my business association with a lady. Mrs. Becker, for
ten shillings for a large beautiful room that came with full English breakfast. The lady
was able to get more added to her ration card due to housing me. Several underground
trips to the city and back did not cost more that two shillings.
In 1951 I travelled from Alexandria to Genoa. One pound Sudanese was equal to
one sterling (and not one sterling bought three thousand pounds as now!) one pound at
that time bought 1760 Lire. I could have a plate of spaghetti bolognaise for 100 Lire!
(and not for 6000 Lire now!)
I used to travel Milan, the industrial capital of Italy, in order to go to Bergamo and
from there to Pallazzolo Sull Oglio famous fro large and small factories producing
buttons from Mother of Pearl shells and Trocas shells. The girls even took several kilos
home every day to cut blanks to supplement their income. Our business associate in
Pallazzolo was Teddy Meletiou, a Greek born Egypt and served during the war in the
Royal Navy. He spoke Greek, Arabic, English Italian and French, all fluently. We
became very close friends until fifteen years later he died in a car accident.
From Milan I always travelled by night to Trieste, by train or bus. I saved hotel
costs for one night. Travelling by train was an education. Back home the two trains to
Khartoum every week were at the platform four hours before the scheduled departure.
The first time I bought a ticket to Trieste, I asked about the time of departure and the
number of the platform. I was at the platform an hour earlier. Very soon I discovered that
every few minutes from the same platform trains go to different destinations! Not only
that, but the same trains would have carriages that go to different destinations. It was
important to get into the right car, otherwise you might end where you do no want to go.
Teddy was a very good friend who was generous and very hospitable. I continued for
years after his death to keep in contact with his sister and children. Maybe because he
came from very modest (poor beginnings, he liked to surround himself only with the best
that life could ever. He filled the position of honorary Greek Counsel in Milan and never
looked out of place. He always stayed with me when he was in Port Sudan. He
appreciated my wife’s hospitality and always wished she would come to Italy.
In italy I came to know that you can always ask and get a bargain, even in the best
hotels. Also staying for three days meant good savings. The rooms came with breakfast
and one main meal. No matter where you are in Italy I must say that the main meal was
the best on the menu. This was true in the 50’s and true now. Often I enjoyed going to
Largo de Garda, Como, and Jessola Pinetta. With my wife we went several times to
Ravena and Abano Terme on the outskirts of Padua. Abano is a spa and very peaceful.
The average age there was in the mid 70’s! it was easy to travel by car. Now I am not
sure. No rental company leases to those over 70 and now I am 82!
In Germany I discovered eggs Russian style and the Dome in Cologne. I
sold Gum Arabic in Bonn to Haribo. “Haribomacht Kinder Froh und Erwachsnsnsr eben
so.” Translated “ he makes the children happy and adults too!” in Emmerich on the
German/Dutch border I sold gum to Fassin. In the 50’s he had his office in a trailer while
he was building his factory. Thirty years later he had one of the largest factories in
Germany and branches in Germany and France. In Hamburg I sold Mother of Pearl
shells, gum, and ground nut kernels.
After our associations with the Hamburgers, I started going to Holland on
business. Every year Dick Hamburger and I met with Mr. Wellman, head of stighting
Arabich Gim. This organization bought gum for all Dutch companies who need Gum
Arabic. It was a shrewd way of obtaining the best prices. So every year Mr. Wellman
needed several thousand tons of gum and could command and get the best price. We
always won this contract as the Hamburgers were of Dutch origin. We always had lunch
at the American Hotel; my trips to Europe are rich with fond memories. Mt grandson and
his Dutch fiancé not knowing of the connection ???? (pg. 26)Sitting on the steps of the
Acropolis in Athens. The gondolas in Venice. The Trevi Fountain in Rome. The
Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. The candle walk at night in Lourdes and of course the
Champs Elysee and Eiffel Tower in Paris. But all these sights dim when compared to the
great pleasure I had watching football.
The first game I saw was when Dick Hamburger took me to see Arsenal
play Sheffield Wednesday. After the game I became a supporter and had the Gunners
magazine sent to me back home. I then used to time my visits to London to see the F.A
finals. I used to go to Wembley after breakfast. I often was there 4/5 hours before kickoff at 3. I did not take long to buy my ticket from the hustlers. The tickets ranged between
£3 and £5, a fortune at that time. The face value was £1.
I was fortunate to watch some of the most famous players of the day. from
England, Sir Stanley Matthews, George Best, Dennis Law and Bobby More. From Brazil
Pele and Garinchia, from Spain Di Stephano, from Portugal Eusebio, from Germany
Beckenbaur and Uwe Seeler, from Hungary the great Bushkash. My seeing so many
games had sometimes a humorous twist worth mentioning.
One boxing day in London I went to the Chelsea ground before noon.
After the game I went to see, in the afternoon, the Spurs play. The same guy who sold me
the ticket at the Chelsea ground was waiting to sell mea ticket at White Hart Lane! He
asked about the Chelsea result. I offered to tell him the score for two shillings. He was
not buying. He told me the Sports Page would come out in ten munutes and he would
know the result for free!
One time I got to Rotterdam for a mid-week game a little bit late. I parked
my car as soon as I got to the stadium without regard to my gate. When the game was
over I could not find my car. I had to wait until everybody else left before I could drive
back to Bonn in the wee hours of the morning
But the story I really liked to tell my friends was what happened in Berlin.
I was on my way to Poznan in Poland and Brazil was playing Germany that day. I went
to the ground in good time hoping to buy a ticket from a hustler like I have been doing
for years in England. I was mistaken. In Germany it was a criminal offense to sell tickets
for profit. So there I was without a ticket and kick-off time was drawing near. I decided
to stand in line towards to turnstiles. When I got there, the usher asked me for my ticket.
What ticket? I did not have one. Need is the mother of invention, I brought out my
passport and showed it to the usher. He said he was not interested in my passport but
wanted to see my ticket. I opened the passport and showed my picture and although the
profession showed me as a businessman, I told him Press – Magazine – Reporter. He was
getting frustrated and angry and the fans behind impatient. A few passed by me but to the
football fans…………from where they see me, they realized I wanted in without a ticket.
They then pushed past the usher who could not stand firm against such pressure. I
suddenly found myself inside the Olympic Stadium and proceeded up the stairs to the
covered walkway as only Berlin has it. I went to the 50 Yard line behind the press and
watched a great game Kostenios, as the Germans would say!
Football, however, was not the only source of pleasure and entertainment, I was
an avid cinemagoer. Some of the most memorable films I still remember, Shane – High
Noon – Sergeant York – Sampson and Delilah – Random – Harvest – Boomtown – It
Happened One Night – The Old Man and the Sea. But football and films put together do
not compare with the short stories of Damon Runyon.
In 1944 I happened on Damon Runyon when an American submarine put into
Port Sudan and one of his books found its way to my hands.
For the next 25 years I read daily the short stories whether on terra firma or in the
skies. I read the stories a hundred times never losing my enthusiasm to be amazed at the
style and the characters. The stories must be read to be deeply enjoyed. How he described
the characters and told the intriguing episodes put Damon Runyon, in my judgement,
above all the writer that ever lived. Some of his short stories were made into films: Guys
& Dolls and a Pocket Full of Miracles with Bette Davis and Glen Ford. He was a
reporter, a job that brought him in touch with the underworld.
I still carry a book with me until this day.
( Grandson Kareem and his Dutch fiancée stayed this year unknowing) ? (pg.28)
I still remember when I first went to Holland how for 8 shillings, 5 FL., I had a
good room and breakfast with up to seven selections. There, I discovered peanut butter
and chocolate. I also came to know how narrow Dutch apartments could be as land seen
being in short supply. The tulip fields are the pride of the Dutch. The Dutch are hard-
working but not generous. This explains when friends go out to dinner and say “lets go
Dutch.” Everybody pays their own bill.
My trips every year to Leipzig were special. Because the city had very few hotels,
the rooms were reserved for government bureaucrats and special foreign invited guests.
Other visiting exhibitors took rooms in private family homes who submitted their names
to a central reservation office. I was lucky to stay in Egon and Martina in their newly
built apartment. They got the apartment by contributing labor for the building. There was
no central heating but there was a stove in my room.
Every year they submitted their names but declared they already have a guest.
This arrangement was for me better than a 5 star hotel. I was treated like royalty and the
kitchen was mine whenever I wanted to cook. I always brought them Sudanese ivories,
ladies’ handbags made of crocodile and snakeskin. Because we could buy with western
money tax-free goods, I could buy for very little money and cigarettes, chocolates and
many other items. I passed the savings to my hosts and friends.
My stand was in the city centre in a huge six storey building. Although I was selling
Sudanese produce, I decorated the stand with very interesting large under-water pictures
of ivories and skins. Visitors found these items of interest. I was always interviewed by
the press, radio and TV. The slogan all over Leipzig was “ Der socialismus seigt.” I never
disagreed. I was there to sell and buy goods. In two weeks I had three or four visits from
the ministries I dealt with. These visits did not last more than 30 minutes. There were
always two men, the trader and the party member. The contracts were signed earlier, the
exhibitor would leave.
Before I got to the D.D.R. Deutsche Democratic Republic, I exchanged one west
mark for four eastern, this was illegal. Since food was cheap in the D.D.R. I lived and ate
like a king. But life in Leipzig was not all happiness. You always had to mind your step
and watch your actions. When I returned to Helmstedt (the border between the east and
west) and passed through customs, the air suddenly was fresh and I was carrying a lighter
body.
The Germans in Leipzig were very friendly and extremely poor. After the wall
was built in Berlin and flight to the west came to a tragic end for most, they were
desperate, sad and resigned to living in a large prison. They could only go on holidays in
other socialist countries. I became attached to these good kind people that to this date, I
remember my days there with affection.
I do not know, however, if Der socialismus siegt installed and repeatedly
reminded of this slogan was utterly false. There is of course the political aim the
government meant to impose on the minds of the population, that of course is
dictatorship. Then there is the economical side of socialism. There are the socialist parties
of Schroder, Zapatero, Mitterand and a capitalist system with human face and what
President Bush vowed; a republican party that is compassionate. This never came to pass.
The socialist parties support a free market, but want to take care of the less fortunate and
guarantee continued education and health services.
I come from a trading family but Islam’s teachings mean help to those who need
it unreservedly. Two other points; ilsam prohibits giving or taking money with interest.
Also, in Ramadan a Moslem must give 2 ½ % of his entire capital to the poor.
Wheni first arrived on the shores of Europe The Christian party leady by De
Gasperi was going against the socialist Nenne the signs read “ Two men with two
different lives.” In west Germany the socialists slogan read “All want a better life but
they all must have a better lif.” They went against the Christian Democratic party lead by
Konrad Adenauer “Der Alte.”
In England Attlee’s Labor Party was chosen over the immortal Churchill because
he was thought to be more on the side of the people and would be better to improve their
lives: during the peace years.
Fast forward to 2008. The Republican Party in full control of the U.S government
for six years and another two more years in the White House let the market do as it
pleased. No regulations to oversee the banks and other financial institutions. It is a free
market – supply economies. Let the buyer beware. The leader of the free world took the
whole world down with it when the scandal of the SUBPRIME became known. Every
country was touched by the incompetent system that let the financial institution go
unsupervised. Before that, several large companies were found to lie about their financial
situtions. Now bankruptcies are announced every day and millions lost their jobs.
Unemployment is at its highest in the USA, European Community and England. In
London Prime Minister of New Labour, who veered to the right in recent years, warned
banks that if they did not behave responsibly the Government would nationalize the
banks – back to socialism? The hwole world needs and order where checks and balances
are strictly enforced in all countries. Bank Managers should not find it possible to gamble
the shareholders’ investments. CEO’s should be judged by their stewardship of auto,
aeroplane and stores of High Street not by the results of one year but over a period of
several years. Bankers who lure investors by offering higher reutns than normal must not
be allowed to do business without annual audits. At this moment you see governments
bailing out with taxpayers’ money large companies who prospered under capitalism and
now are fading away under the system of espoused. A new system be called sociocapital.
The poor should be bailed out too.
The world has suddenly realized that the world is a small place that we are all
(whether we like it or not) so connected that the actions in China can affect the markets in
Europe. The developing countries live or die by what the developed countries do. In mu
judgment we need leaders that act with compassion towards their neighbors. I hope this is
not labels of capitalism or socialism BUT A WORLD OF HUMAN BEINGS.
Here I would like to say that I never liked watching war movies no matter how
good they were made, like “The Longest Day.” killing other human beings is a sad affair
no matter what the reason.
I liked “Shane” because a stranger tried to help families driven away from their
farms. I liked “Sergeant York” because he was decorated for his heroics. But he did what
he did trying to save lives!! I need good intentions followed by good actions – NO
EMPTY WORDS PLEASE!
My attachment to the sea was inherited from my father. He went to sea in his
teens as an able seaman. Later when he was a well established businessman his love for
the sea diminished. He always had a boat to go fishing and dug-outs to lease to fishermen
to catch millets to make salted fish that he exported to Egypt. I first went to sea with him
as a very young boy of five or six. When I finally left Egypt at the age of 12 and went to
school in Khartoum I returned to Port Sudan ever year in the summer and went with my
father on his fishing trips on the weekends. When the war came and exposed lights were
prohibited we went to be by seven o’clock. At 3 in the morning my father woke me so
that we so that we could go swim; it was a fifteen minute walk to the sea. My father
would not allow me to wear shoes although the road was rough with sharp stones. He
said I must be ready with tough feet to walk without shoes in case one day I did not have
money to buy a pair!
We walked at 3 a.m. to the sea and swap up to 4:30. As soon as dawn was near we
went home. I went to sleep while my father went to the market to buy in the auction
produce I bulk, as our household could count up to fifty mouths to feed. He also bought
meat and fish as even our breakfasts were attended by many guests and the table spread
boasted at least eight different dishes.
When I at last settled in 1946 in Port Sudan, my trips to the sea every weekend
became regular until in 1950 we built the first motor launch that whatever the weather,
took us to far away locations and better fishing spots. Trolling also became a worthwhile
activity.
Just before we built the “Eagle” my father trusted the “Invincible” to Adam Hadal
to skipper. Adam had been for years in the family as a help on land and as a member of
the crew of one of the many fishing boats we had. Of the many skippers I went to sea
with, Adam was different. Unlike many of them he was family man. His knowledge of
the ea and what is inside it never stopped to amaze me for the quarter of a century we
became close friends. All of my friends and many expatriates preferred to chat with him
rather tan with me. He was a man of knowledge and many experience that everyone
enjoyed hearing about. In later years between the year 1955 and 1969, when I finally left
the Sudan for Canada, we were practically inseparable. He came at 7 in the morning and
rode with me to Flamingo Bay where I checked the workers sorting shells. Then I drove
to the Port where we were shipping or unloading boats under our agency. Next came the
trip to the Gum Arabic warehouse where hundreds of girls were cleaning and sorting one
of the main exports of the Sudan. The Sudan produced 85% of the world consumption of
Gum Arabic. During the three hours in the car until I got to the office, Adam never spoke
until I spoke to him. He knew that often my mind wandered away and he kept silent. At 5
in the afternoon he returned so that we went to the movies together. After the cinema I
took him home. The weekends were when he became not only a friend but even more of
the skipper we relied on for good fishing, and when the weather turned bad, for our lives.
He knew about every living thing in the sea and knew of even every shell out of sight!
Many saw he was a good skipper, an interesting man to talk to and a philospher that you
admired and respected to the highest levels. I used to say that Adam understood what we
said, and his replies were to the point. He did not have any of the faults men usually have.
I never heard him raise his voice and there was not s single mean muscle in his body.
Much more will be said about Adam as some serious fishing became our regular outings
whether it was fishing with the lines or underwater adventures.
The sea took a special turn in the mid fifties when we discovered the beauty of the
coral underwater.
In the fifties Hans Hass, the Austrian diver, came with is girlfriend Lotte (latter
his wife) to Port Sudan. He wrote a book “Under the Red Sea” and made a film about the
“Silent World.” I was not then curious or interested in whatever was hidden under the
surface. Jacques Cousteau also came to Port Sudan with the Calypso several times.
It was however, in 1958 that a group of Italian tourists came to dive in Port
Sudan. They were led by Goffredo Lombardo, the owner of Titanus Films in Rome and
Zeke, Goffredo’s bodyguard and Goffredo’s niece ? pg 33. Her father worked for the
pope. I went with them, but did not dive the first time. Mondo Summerso was a magazine
published in Rome and wrote about the sea. Mainly it reported Goffredo’s monthly life
underwater. I was interested to read the magazine and learn about the silent world. the
next time they came back. I was willing to take the plunge. Adam too – he did not want
me to be exposed to any harm.
I did not make any move for Dianne and was surprised to hear Bruno one day say
“As Ali’s not coming with us today, so Dianne will not join us too.” This is the first time
I came to know Dianne was fond of me. When later Bruno and Dianne took me out for
dinner in Rome, I knew I did the right thing by not getting closer to her as we brought her
home to the Vatican I was mentioned apprehensive.
Diving with the group taught me a very important lesson that remained with me
and helped establish the rules I insisted all in my group adhere to. There was an
unhealthy competition between Goffredo and Bruno. Their competition often endangered
their lives. I decided that any group I lead will do things together. Any fish or shark we
shot was the catch of all of us. No fish had the name on it of the diver who shot it. one
thing that left a lasting impression on me was when the group for the sake of the
magazine shot a manta ray – a peaceful fish if there is ever one. It took several hours to
land the manta and I felt very bad.
Goffredo was a small man, but he was the only European who brought aling his
ex girlfriend and his new one. Carletta was very beautiful. They got married later. When
in 2000 I visited him in Rome, we had dinner in his flat in the centre of Rome. Then I
found out that Carletta has since died from cancer and his oldest son died in a diving
accident. He was a broken man. His studio in one of the downturns in the film industry
was lost forever. He snapped and fought back to a better life by riding the bandwagon of
television. I still remember his secretary every morning in Port Sudan received details of
the income from each theatre. At the time he had just produced “Beautiful But Poor.” He
was a very generous man. Because they were in Port Sudan over Christmas, he had a
valuable gift for everybody. He gave a “Marciano” a beautiful statue of a man from Mars.
I foolishly wore it underwater and before lone I lost it. to my great disappointment I did
not have a gift for him then, but I rectified that by taking a valuable necklace and
wristband when I saw him 40 years later.
I like Bruno – he was a tall man, with a god sense of humour. Many years later I
saw him as a guest on “The Tonight Show” the most famous talk show of Los Angeles.
He was making underwater documentaries under the title “ Man Alive.”
I am sure that had it not been for Goffredo I would have ever taken to diving.
My Friday trips became well know to many practicing the sport in Europe.
Many business and diplomats timed their trips so that they could join our party.
One of my cousins was in Cairo when he was called to Germany. When he
applied at the German Consulate for a visa he was turned down and was told to go back
to Khartoum to obtain the visa. He was so desperate he begged to see the Conul. When
the Consul found out that he was from Port Sudan he asked him if he knew me. He said
“Ali is my cousin and I am married to his sister.” He walked away with the visa.
My group, besides Adam and me, were expatriates who were avid swimmers. The
greatest compliment to our coral reefs came when an expatriate asked to be pulled out of
Port Sudan for any other post. Before his request was granted, he was ased by one of his
friends if he would like to come with us. When he came, he immediately withdrew his
request! Our group was very disciplined. The women knew their positions and the men
carried out their instructions to the letter.
The Red Sea is full of sharks. They, however, on the whole would leave you alon
if you left them alone. Shooting fish suddenly develops a serious and dangerous situation.
Sharks attacked within a minute if not seconds of shooting fish. I learned that the smart
way of protection against an attacking shark is to “shoo” it away. The 64 sharks I shot
took place under “quiet” times. I learned the best way to shoot a shark is by either
swimming behind it or on top of it. The harpoon must hit it in the body near the tail. This
makes the shark want to deal with the pain by turning its head to where the wound is. this
then allows for ample time to surface and haul the prize to the boat that usually followed
with other loaded guns. Neither Cousteau nor Hans Hass were into shooting fish. They
were both interested in studying the reef and what is around them from a scientific point
of view
To be able to get a fish you will be required to: (a) hold your breath for a long
time; (b) know how t approach the fish you are after, some fish are best attacked form
behind and some face to face; (c) the shot had to fins where the bone is so that the barbs
stick to the fish. Knowing these fact is the difference between success and failure.
Four episodes I would like to mention that illustrate what great time we enjoyed:
1.The French, 2. The English, 3. The MGM, and 4. The Austrian.
I start with the French. Two French couple came to Port Sudan to dive. They
arrived form Khartoum. Apparently they did not have the proper papers to clear their
equipment through Customs. They left their agent to look after the problem while they
continued to Port Sudan. After two weeks, the equipment had not arrived. They asked if
they could join our party. In the morning the ladies come in my pick-up while the men
were going to be a little late coming. When we go to the area where the boats were
waiting, I decided to go to the mouth of the bay fro a quick dive. The ladies came too. I
told them to be quiet as I dived for a twenty-pound fish. When I got near it went away. I
held on to a rock until it came back. When I went for it, it swam away again. Again I held
to a rock. This time when it came back I got it.
When we went back to shore the rest of the party had just arrived. The two
women told their husbands about what happened. They said they were told they needed
aqua plugs but they saw that is only an excuse. They said that if they went now back to
France, what they saw that morning was worth the trip; claiming witness to a magnificent
dive. They could now go back satisfied the trip a great success. ALLOW ME TO BLOW
MY OWN HORNT THIS ONCE!
The English episode was the result of the trip to Port Sudan by some co-operation
between the universities of Cambridge and Oxford. They came to study urchins
especially “ THE STAR FISH” which was eating away the Great Barrier Reed. They
came to see me and hope they would be allowed to join our group on Fridays. During the
week they worked on their research and Fridays were going to be for pleasure.
I warned them about the shark attacks after a fish is shot and how soon and fast
they came, I explained that if there was not time to use the knife that we carried our legs,
that the best defense is to “shoo” the shark away.
One morning the students wanted to do their work before they joined us at the
coffee break. One of the students, Ian, wanted to stay with us. Adam and I swam to the
edge of the reef. I shot a fish, before you could count to three, a shark was on us. Both
Adam and I “shooed” the shark away for dear life. Three time the shark attacked ad three
times we shooed it away. We signaled to the boat to take the fish and give us fresh guns.
Ian got in to the boat and just put his mask into the water. He did not want to enter the
water again.
When we went to the larger boat for coffee, I asked Ian to tell his friends what he
saw. Firstly, I asked him” was I right when I said sharks attack within seconds of
shooting a fish?” he instantly replied “the shark was on us within seconds.”(pg 37)
Secondly I asked, “was I right when I said that the best defense is ‘shooing’ the shark
away?” He diligently replied, “Ali and Adam kept shooing until the shark went away.”
However, Ian also said “ but they Ali did not tell you the best and surest defense against
the shark.” I was at a loss as to what else I could have told them. Ian went on “Ali did not
tell you that we should start ‘shooing’ as soon as we get into the water – before a fish is
shot and before a shark appears.”
I said to Ian “ Ian, you have an open invitation to come diving with me any time
you want because I will never lose you.”
After the English students returned to England, Dr. Christopher Rhodes, who was
also the librarian at the War Museum wrote in the National Geographic that I was the best
underwater shot in the world. he had been to the Great Barrier Reef and other locations.
At the same time an MGM scout visited Port Sudan and saw me in action. MGM was
making “Captain Nemo and the Underwater World.” One of the scenes called for the
heroine Mrs. Ballushi, to fight a shark. They found out that I was the only man who could
do the scene. I was called to London for contract discussions. I had a stop in Cairo and at
the time “ The Dirty Dozen” was being shown. It was a very popular film and my
children wanted very much to see it. The scout who met me in Cairo arranged for us to
have a box. My children were thrilled.
In London at Elstree, we agreed I would kill 3 sharks and the cameramen’s
responsibility was to be in position to shoot the fight. I did not ask for insurance! I was
measured for the special silver suit and provided with, upon my request, 10nch sharp
knife. I also had to train wearing a wig!!
Back in Port Sudan I started to train. I ran 7-8 miles every morning and on
Fridays Adam and I dived where we knew the area were infested with sharks. One day a
cousin (I had 25) who was visiting from Alexandria was in the water when I shot a fish.
“Chesty” attacked immediately. I never saw a shark with such a huge chest. Adam and I
“shooed” it three times before it went away. My cousin was mesmerized. He was quiet all
the way going back. When he got home and went under the shower, he suddenly woke up
and screamed “shoo.” My sister ran to see what was wrong, to find out he really was in
good health!
Before the crew’s arrival, a representative arrived to check on accommodation for
the party and talk about the “adventure.” Unfortunately, the agreement came undone
because of the “credit” for the shark fight never came up in our negotiations. I insisted
that I would get the acknowledgement for the scene. They refused and in a last ditch
effort to save the agreement, they suggested that I would be names as having
“supervised” the fight. I did not know at the time that I would soon emigrate to Canada as
I would have accepted their offer. I still have the suit and wig to remind me of what could
have passed.
The 4th episode involving the Austrians took place before the MGM.
Dr. Scholl, a medical doctor, brought a group to Port Sudan for a film for TV.
Miss Austria had to be included for good reason. They had an experienced diver with
them in Kari Pifeifer who was Hans Hass’s bodyguard and knew Port Sudan.
The group invited me on their arrival for dinner. It was soon evident that there
was a difference of opinion between Kari and me. He told the group that to kill a shark
one had to shoot it in the head, I disagreed as that would make the shark mad and create a
dangerous situation. I said to land a shark one must shoo it closer to the tail as that would
make it turn to relieve the pain. The group was at a loss. They had a leader saying one
thing and I, as an experienced diver, contradicting him.
They hired a boat and for two weeks I did not hear or see them. one evening Dr.
Scholl came to see me. He as much as said that he needed my help to save the investment
he put into the trip. He said “Ali, after two weeks, all that we filmed was some coral reefs
and fish swimming around.” He said “nobody would buy such a film as it really showed
nothing.” I asked him what he wanted me of me. He said “ you are known to fight sharks.
If you could fight a shark for us, I will be grateful for your help.”
The following Friday Adam and I took the Austrians to where we knew we would
find sharks. When we got there I told Kari that I would go down to about 40 feet. When
he saw I held on to a rock, he should come down and shoot a fish. I said I would then
wait for the shark to come and when it did I would shoot it. I told the cameraman to take
his position according to the scenario.
The scene took place exactly as scripted. My shooting o a shark in the tail never
created a risk ad the scene was filmed successfully. Towards the en and before we went
out of the water Kari shot the shark in the head and all of a sudden the shark had new
energy and we were in great danger of being mauled by it: QED. The group now had
clear evidence of what I stood by. I did not take advantage of the Austrian thanks for
what I did to save the trip. I did not make a single pass at the most beautiful girl in
Austria. Does this remind you of what someone said about YOUTH IS WASTED ON
THE YOUNG?!!
A few months later a Sudanese army officer was brought to my office. He hugged
me as is customary among friends. But I did not see him before in my life. After offering
him a cold drink, he started saying he owed me a lot. Is said “how?” He said he had just
been to Austria. At the first hotel, as he registered he was Sudanese, he was asked if he
knew me. His reply that he did not brought a visible look of disappointment. The next
time I registered at a hotel, my answer to the same question was an emphatic “Yes. He is
a close friend.” There was an unmistakable show of approval and satisfaction. I got a
room with a view and at the restaurant when the waitress came to know that I am a friend
of Ali, I got very good service and offered free drinks. I was treated like royalty.
Unfortunately, I visited Austria 40years later! The pleasure I had from diving in the most
beautiful sea in the world was reward enough. However, even the best divers and most
experienced make mistakes and cause a life threatening situation.
On one of my dives in the early day I almost lost my life but for Adam coming to
my aid and pulling me to the surface. He, swimming on the surface, realized I went too
far and would not have enough air to surface. He dived towards me even before I shoed
signs of being out of breath. The second time was a few years later. I went down to shoot
a grouper at about 40feet. It was not as quick as I hoped. I shot the fish that went into the
cave. I dropped the gun and got to the surface. The fish was quite big (I have a picture to
prove it). I went down for a second time and shot the fish again to make sure the barbs
are secure in the bones. I went up again and made the mistake of not waiting until I have
properly rested. I went down for the third time, collected one gun and then the other. The
line was wrapped around a stone. When I freed the line and started to pull the fish from
the cave I started to feel short of breath. I pulled the fish but was too weak to swim.
Adam knew I was going to be in trouble. He started for me and just as I could not move
my legs, he brought me to the surface. I was put in the boat too weak even to breathe. My
skin turned ashen. I took more than an hour to recover! This denies what a friend once
said “Ali had gills!”
Not all outings were underwater activities. All summer from June to the end of
August I went with my Sudanese friends line fishing. The days were long and the wind
mild, allowing the boats not to break the anchor (pg 40).
Adam took the launch, pulling a dinghy, along to a bay about 50km north of Port
Sudan every Thursday morning. We followed at 9p.m. after the matinee movie. For
15years the same group made the trip. We arrived at our destination by 11 o’clock.
Everyone had to be in bed by midnight. Complete quiet was my rule.
At four we got up and had half an hour to be ready to go to the boat. At five tea
was ready followed by breakfast. The tea was served from a kettle where the milk and
sugar were added. There was no asking how much sugar or how much milk. When one of
my friends once joined me with the expatriates, he was asked “How much sugar?” he was
surprised and said, “Since when were we ever asked ‘how much sugar’?”
It was an hour and a half to Sha’ab Rumi, our destination. Breakfast over and the
rest of the time was devoted to checking the lines and the spare hooks.
The crew was Adam and Osman. The fishing party were Mohamed Zein, Mukhtar
and Khawad, all railway engineers. Then there was Hussein, an old friend, Abdel Khalig
(his father and mine went to sea together) and my nephew Alitaha. By special request we
could have one more.
Adam and I decided the locations and how long we fish in one location. We
fished up to about 1p.m. as the wind usually picked up at that time. We must have done
the trip two hundred times. Not once during a fifteen year period did we come home with
less than two hundred fish. Not many can boast of such an achievement.
The secret for our success, I attribute as a gift from God members of the party
took 6 – 8 fish. I never took more than one. Al the fish were given away Saturday
morning. For three months many families knew they had fish on Saturday. My mother
used to call me at the top of her voice as I was telling the divers how many fish go to
each family; she wanted me to sell the fish. I shouted back “Mother, the fish is not mine
to sell.”
As soon as Adam caught a Najel, Osman started to prepare lunch, fried fish and
rice. I always was in the dinghy with Abdel Khalif. Nobody was allowed to rest.
Everybody at all times had to have their lines in the sea. It was hard labor by any book.
Mukhtar used to say, “We got to work on Saturday to have a rest,” this from a man who
worked hard at his job.
Sometimes we left at 2 a.m. instead of 9 p.m. depending on the distance between
two housed. One appointment was at 2 a.m. and another at 2:03!
Hussein could see the lights of the pick-up long before I got there. He would then
take his watch off and was ready by the door. Once his wife asked him why he left his
watch at home. His answer was why should I take the watch with me, it would not do me
any good and could be lost. I could tell Ali we must move from this location or it was
time to go home. Although we were in town by 4 p.m., I always told the group not to
make arrangement before 7 p.m. Osman always had lunch ready by 1 p.m. and he never
once failed to provide a lunch that was enjoyed by everyone.
The bond that tied us to one another was so strong that when I emigrated to the
West Coast of Canada, known for good fishing, I decided never to go to sea. I wanted to
honor the warm memories of dear friends and all the good time we had.
I went to sea again when I returned to Port Sudan after 13 years. I called Mukhtar
in Khartoum (he was a successful contactor). I told him we were going fishing. His
answer was “what time?”
Adam, though advanced in years, was still very fit and strong as ever. Although I
was told that fishing was not as good as before, we had a very successful day.
Fishing is not about a good catch. It is about spending a day with friends you
respect and love and giving the fruits of your labor to other friends and the poor.
I always had a fear and love of the sea. For me it was like a sacred place, like
going to the Mosque. It is when you meet your creator and want to worship In the open
sea and the fresh air. It was like every time you were born again (pg4).
(1)
On my way to Poznan in Poland as I drove through a village, I stopped
for directions. There was a young girl that looked to me to be under –
nourished. I gave her a banana, which she refused to take until her
mother told her it was alright because it was a fruit! A girl of 7 who
never saw a banana in her life. The face of that girl is still very clear in
my mind.
(2)
Another story from Poland, but with a different taste. The Poznan T.V.
assigned one of their well known and most beautiful reporters to
interview me. We spent most of the day going over the questions and
answers (the communist authorities wanted to be sure that foreigners
said the right words). In the evening the interview was shown and y
secretary told me it came across very well. Lydia said we should go for
dinner the following day to celebrate the success of the interview. We
went to dinner to a nice restaurant on the outskirts of te city. After
dinner we walked in the garden and I was telling Lydia about the
places I visited regularly like Cannes, Venice and the theatres of
London. She said “Why don’t you stop talking and kiss me?” it did not
occur to me to do just that, but I did not have the courage to act.
(3)
Another image when I was with Adam in Flamingo as hundreds of
mullets came near the shore, is coming to me now. Hamid, a residant
fisherman there was casting his nets and hauling fish like nobody’s
business. As soon as he put one catch on the shore, he cast his nets
again and again. I told Adam to run to our boat and get a net to join in
this bonanza. Adam, wise as he always was said to me “Why do you
want to share in Hamid’s luck?” This is his day. it happens maybe
once in a lifetime. We should leave well alone.
a. Adam always showing me his wisdom as, when in the winter we wen
trolling in the sheltered reefs of Suakin, Adam always asked Mustafa
Abumedina to be in charge of the outing. Adam knew the reefs in
Suakin as well, maybe better, than anyone. Adam, however, wanted
Mustafa to earn money for the day’s work which otherwise was not
available. Mustafa was the head of all fishermen in Suakin and had to
have his due respect. Adam told me Suakin was Mustafa’s domain,
territory.
Another image is when during the war years I went at night to listen to the news
in a friend’s house (I do not know why we did not have radio). The chimes of Big Ben
was music to my years. London was alive and well, the world was well.
There are faces I will never forget for as long as I live: the face of the Polish girls
who had a surprised look at seeing a banana for the first time; the tears on the face of an
English friend who was so distraught at leaving her dog as she left for holidays. The pain
on the face of Leipziger who told me he was on the train to Berlin, the gateway to
freedom when word came that the wall was going up and no hope of escape. The door
was closed for the next 35years with hundreds killed trying t climb over or go through the
wall. But the trip that left a lasting impression on mu and changed my out look on life
was my trip to Kenya (pgs 1/2/3).
It is worth mentioning here a lesson I learned from a visit to Germany in 1950.
The country was in ruins. I was walking near a bridge on the Rhine when I pointed to a
Belgian unit manning a gun. I asked the German if the sight of foreign soldiers in the
Fatherland does not anger him and make his blood boil. His answer both surprised and
shocked me. We were demonstrating against the British occupation of our country.
At the time the allies controlled the West while the Russians controlled the East.
The German told me “I look at the Belgians but I fo not see them! we have a lot of work
to do, build our homes and factories. We have to grow our own food. This will take time.
But, he continued, when we will have done all this and then look around, we will find
that they had already left without firing a shot.” Then he asked me why they are really in
German. They are here to protect us against the Russians! We really should be happy to
have the allies stay in Germany. All during our history we have been fighting and
shooting alone at others. Now we have armies that are going to shoot with is and for us.
We are lucky!?
A few years later when the Sudan got its independence, the Sudanese government
paid off the contracts of the English civil servants.
Most contributed to the Sudanization of the country, men with money and women
with their jewelry. Nobody thought out the consequence of this action. Second and third
tier civil servants suddenly were pushed up to positions of authority that under normal
conditions would have taken them years to reach as they gain experience to carry out
their duties and responsibilities. A friend, many years later told me that our generation
should be put on trial for having sent the British out. I must here admit that whatever the
faults of the British, they left the country with a very well organized efficient service.
I cannot end this chapter about the sea without letting the reader understand the
real relationship between Adam and me.
Maybe the following cases explain better what I mean.
After seven years in Canada, I returned to Cairo for a vaction. The Bairam was a
week away. I sent world that I wanted Adam to come and see me. On the day the plane
arrived form Port Sudan I went to the airport to meet him. Some of the passengers told
me that Adam could not come as the plane was full and he could not get a seat. I went
home disappointed and resigned to the fact he won’t be able to come as at the time he
was emplyed byt the Sudanese Navy.
A week later a friend shouwed up with Adam by his side. It was an emotional
meeting. I then asked Adam how he managed to obtain permission to leave. He said, “I
did not obtain permission because I did not ask for one;” he continued, “What do you
think? I would not ask permission from anyone to come and see you. When I go back and
they ask where I went to see my uncle and friend. If you do not approve, you can take
you uniform back.” (All the crew called me ‘Uncle’). Adam was willing to throw away
his position and his livelihood just to see me.
Another episode was when an owner of a new motorboat asked Adam to be his
skipper. Adam refused telling the owner he could not take the job in case I returned soon.
In this case he said, “I would have to leave you. I prefer not to take the job at all!”
Before I left Port Sudan in 1969 I gave Adam a new gun, flippers and mask, when
I returned in 1982, Adam handed me the new equipment. He never used them like I
intended he would!
In 1996 when I was in Port Sudan to inspect the progress of the rehabilitation of
Khor Arbaat, we met several times. He was now really getting old and his sight was
failing him. One of my nephews was having the family for lunch. I sent a messenger to
bring Adam to join us as I considered him indeed a member of the Elashi family. He
refused to come. I did not insist he come, but to this day I still regret that I did not take
my lunch and went to share it with him. It was later that it dawned on me that Adam did
not join in the lunch because he considered it was an Elashi affair and he did not want to
take away any time I could spend with the members of the family. He did not come
because he loved me so much.
On his death bed he told his sons ‘ When Ali comes – drop whatever you are
doing and put yourselves under his disposal.”
The only thing left for me to to show my love for him is that I pray 5 times a day,
5 times a day I ask God to bless his soul and take care of him like he took care of me in
this world!
The marriage to the girl I loved at first sight had a rocky few years. Some of the
fault I bare responsibility for and other reasons were beyond my control.
First living in a house with six other families creates problems that are avoidable.
The men ate separately and the women followed. The offices were on the ground floor
and meant we stayed in the offices longer than 8 hours a day. the fact that my wife was
born in Egypt and had a lot of freedom as she grew up meant she had a mind of her own
was not shy to assert her opinions. I was brought up to expect a wife to do her husband’s
bidding and to be obedient at all times. A husband cannot be wrong!? There was really no
private intimate married life. We were in a commune that would kill any marriage and
mine was seriously damaged.
The expansion of the business, that meant I travelled in Europe for extended
periods of time, did not help in this. My wife was a good wife and a great and loving
mother. The one time we really became close and a family in our own right was when
one day my eldest son, Amr, 8 at the time, had a tooth extraction. He started to bleed and
when the dentist could not stop the bleeding we took him to the hospital where the
surgeon operated and stopped the bleeding. Our deep concern fro our son brought as
together like never before.
We were separated again as she went to Cairo to look after our three children who
had to be sent to school there, like I was sent 25 years earlier.
My visits to Cairo were sporadic but when the children were staying In Suez with
their grandmother, we went for several simmers to Port Said where we rented a chalet on
the beach. It was, howevere, the summer of ’69 that we visited Beirut when due to the
coup in Sudan I applied for all of us to emigrated to Canada. They went to Cairo whilst I
went to London that I know rather well, to wait for our visa’s to come through. The visa’s
came in August, 1970. By that time, the revolution had expropriated our company and the
move to Canada was evidently the right decision. Now we were a family in every sense
of the word. the children graduated from Simon Fraser University. My wife and I
travelled in the winter months several times to Las Vegas, Los Angeles and on our way
back to San Francisco. All three children were married now and soon we had seven
grandchildren. I travelled with my wife to Egypt a few times and to England and Italy
too. Abano Terme became our favorite destination because it is a Spa and close to
Venice. I could still hire a car and hire a car and often flew to Frankfurt and either
through Switzerland or Austria went south to Italy.
In the last years before her death, January 2008, we owned a bowling centre,
which meant I worked as much as 16 hours a day. I needed a break at least a month a
year to get away from it all. She was not well enough to travel and hated my leaving her
alone for 4 weeks. My son Sam lived to doors away and my grandson, Kareem, now in
the University of Simon Fraser, visited her daily. Nevertheless, she hated being left alone.
It was in October, 2008 that she had a stroke. I slept in another room and did not
hear her call for help until much after the attack.
She was taken to Vancouver General Hospital. When all the x-rays and scans
were good, except for slow movement of the right hand and leg she was otherwise fine.
Her speech and walking were good too. She was sent then to a rehabilitation centre for 6
weeks. Her progress was remarkable she was discharged with the understanding that later
she would become a day patient.
It was soon after that, that my daughter Rosa, noticed she had a yellow face. The
family doctor said that if the skin remained yellow we should take her to the hospital.
This we did the following day. An x-ray showed she had cancer of the pancreas. It was
too far advanced that no operation was advised. Why did the x-rays and scans done tow
months earlier not show the cancer? She didn’t like to be in the hospital although our son,
Amr who came from Egypt and our granddaughter Salma who came from N.Y and I took
turns to sleep with her.
We brought her home and had a nurse to help look after her. It was a matter of
time before the end would come. According to Moslem custom we buried her the
following day, January 30th 2008.
She dies with all of her children and five of her grandchildren around her. Salma
who gave up her studies in New York for two months was by her bedside longer than
anybody else. My wife loved all of her children and grandchildren equally except Sam
and Salma were more equal than the others. Sam for checking on her everyday and Salma
for calling her every evening. Salma had a special place in her heart because she was
living far away.
The doctors did not tell her she had caner because she did not ask. After on of the
x- rays, I told her there was a tumor – I did not describe it. as she was losing weight fast, I
am sure she knew her days were numbered, this was clear to us but no mention of death
at all(came about). A few days before she passed away she allotted a good sum to be
paid on the occasion of each of her grandchildren marrying. She gave her sisters and to
the women who cleaned the house. Long before she fell sick, she gave Rosa a sum of
money that would make her equal to her brothers in the case of her death. The boys,
according to Shari Law inherit twice as much as the girls.
At the beginning of our marriage, my wife got half a pound from the office and
half a pound from me. Rises were slow and very moderate. This change in the last fifteen
years when she got five thousand dollars a month and another $1500 she put aside for
pocket money.
I must say that by the time she died she was well off by any measure. Everyone
knew she had a big heart. Because Rosa had a divorce fifteen years before her death, she
especially gave extra love to Salma and Kareem. She thought they should be compared to
orphans especially since their father did not support them.
She did all she could to encourage Kareem to finish his studies including financial
support.
We all know how much she felt for the poor and what she did to help. It was,
therefore,no wonder that soon after her death, a meeting of the family members decided
that we must do something to keep her name alive. We decided that we should apply to
obtain a plot of land in Port Sudan and build
“AWATIF ELASHI INSTITUTION FOR THOSE WITH SPECIAL NEEDS.”
Was I good husband and a good father? Let me say that my wife was the better
parent and the better half.
How would I fare compared to my brothers and cousins whom she knew well. My
daughter put this question to her just before she died. Her answer was that I was the best
amongst them all.
Maybe she meant it – maybe she was being generous. I know I was good most of
the time and also had my faults.
WILL HUSBANDS WHO DO NOT HAVE FALTS, STAND UP!