Live Encounters Arab Poetry & Writing April 2025
The Road and the River, story by Ibrahim Abdel Meguid.
Translated from Arabic by Dr. Salwa Gouda.
“He does not know if the river he sees on his right is the Nile or a small branch of the river that suddenly appeared in this place. But as happens every time, he continues driving his car, knowing that he will return to the same spot he has returned to now, and he will feel the same unease…
Why does a person often rush into making a mistake at the very moment they think about what is right and realize it? This is what happens to him every time he visits his friend who lives in ‘Al-Matariyyah.’ As soon as he leaves his house and thinks about returning to ‘Imbaba,’ cutting through Cairo from the middle, he deviates and takes a long detour around Cairo, taking the long and fast Corniche Road. At this point, he discovers that he cannot finish it, as he passes under this low tunnel to go over this small bridge, only to return shortly to the same tunnel…”
“He crosses it to see the same bridge… No one meets him on the road to stop and ask, no traffic police, the time is past midnight, the weather is cold. His young son, who always accompanies him, is asleep on the adjacent seat. A calm, decisive certainty seeps into his soul that he will spend the rest of his life lost on this road. He stops the car near the river, which he does not know if it is the Nile or a new branch that suddenly emerged. He left the car and headed towards the water to look. He saw white smoke above the water and distant lights on the other shore, familiar lights, he knows them but does not know how to reach them. And he saw nearby a person approaching, a person who was sitting on a stone near the water, wrapped in darkness and fog. A moment of confusion, but the person advanced further and appeared to be a young man smiling gently, and his smile increased as he got closer…
-Good evening.
-Good evening. Please, can you tell me how to get from here to Imbaba?
The young man smiled and said:”
-“There is no transportation now.”
-“I have a car.”
The young man hesitated for a moment and said:
-“I will ride with you; I am going there.”
They left the shore and headed to the car. His young son was asleep in the front seat, and this young man would sit behind him. What would happen if he killed him? It would be very easy to stab him from behind, but he couldn’t get rid of the young man. They got in, and silence rode with them.
He drove slowly, unable to stop glancing at the rearview mirror, which he had adjusted to reveal the young man behind him. He found the road easy after that, although he couldn’t quite understand how the young man had guided him out of the hellish spot he had been circling. He now sees the Imbaba Bridge, and a sense of security spreads through his soul.
Like someone returning home after a long period of being lost, he crossed the bridge happily. But when he looked to his left to see the rising mist over the wide Nile River, he saw only the dark, black land. He shook his head to dispel any possible illusions, but he heard a faint laugh coming…”
“From behind him, he looked in the mirror and found the young man laughing, his eyes strangely wide and his face elongated into lines. He was also surprised by the end of the bridge and that he had entered a long road surrounded by endless sand. On both sides and directly in front of him were tall trees that he couldn’t reach, but they seemed to jump in front of him, chasing him. His son started screaming in fear of wild animals he saw, but he himself didn’t see them. He had no choice but to shout at the boy to be quiet, and he quieted down, shrinking in his seat. In the mirror, he saw the young man’s face elongating and heard his laughter growing louder. He tried to stop the car, but it wouldn’t stop. He tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t turn. He began to jump in his seat, his jumps matching the speed of the trees in front of him, which seemed with each jump to be about to collide with him. His soul yearned for the light of morning, and he pleaded desperately, ‘Please…’ but all he heard were faint laughs like knives…
© Ibrahim Abdel Meguid
Translated from Arabic by Dr Salwa Gouda. She is an accomplished Egyptian literary translator, critic, and academic affiliated with the English Language and Literature Department at Ain Shams University. Holding a PhD in English literature and criticism, Dr. Gouda pursued her education at both Ain Shams University and California State University, San Bernardino. She has authored several academic works, including Lectures in English Poetry and Introduction to Modern Literary Criticism, among others. Dr. Gouda also played a significant role in translating The Arab Encyclopedia for Pioneers, a comprehensive project featuring poets, philosophers, historians, and literary figures, conducted under the auspices of UNESCO. Recently, her poetry translations have been featured in a poetry anthology published by Alien Buddha Press in Arizona, USA. Her work has also appeared in numerous international literary magazines, further solidifying her contributions to the field of literary translation and criticism.
Ibrahim Abdel Meguid is a renowned contemporary Egyptian novelist and writer, born in 1946 in Alexandria. He has authored numerous novels, short stories, and critical works, celebrated for their artistic and social depth, as well as their exploration of diverse human and national themes. Among his many accolades are the Naguib Mahfouz Medal for Literature, presented by the American University in Cairo; the Egyptian State Appreciation Award in Literature; the Katara Prize for Arabic Novel in the Published Novels category for his work “Adagio” in 2015; and the prestigious Nile Prize in 2022. His works have been translated into multiple languages, solidifying his reputation as one of the leading figures who have significantly enriched modern Arabic literature.