TES-AMEN

It’s the most depressing trek I’ve ever made from my home to the palace.

It’s only a five-minute walk, there’s usually nothing special about it. But this walk in particular is an unforgettable one for all the wrong reasons.

Each step is a heavy one. As heavy as my heart. Weighed down by the painful knowledge that my firstborn son, the first baby my eyes fell upon as my own, the first one to be cradled in my arms, the beginning of my strength, the one who made me a father… is now dead.

Just like that. No warning whatsoever.

It was just a few hours ago that he and his brother stood before me while I asked them how their day went, what they learned today, and my hope that they weren’t getting up to any mischief. The way Binra snickered before saying yes, I know he was up to some mischief with his brother.

How could I have known that that would be the last time I’d hear that snicker or see that smile? In the blink of an eye, I’ve been stripped of one of the greatest gifts of my life.

No pain could possibly surpass that. None at all.

But aside from that, what adds to the gloominess of it all is the overall mood around. And it sends shivers down my spine.

Every house I pass has wailing voices in it.

Sounds of mourning, as a man and his wife and other children and relatives cry for a child that just passed.

It’s not even a joke; it’s as real as it gets. People are crying loudly in every single house I walk past. Not a single one is silent.

It’s nothing like I have ever seen in Egypt. It’s a horrid experience.

It’s clear that a spirit of death has swept over the land.

And who else would it be coming from but the god of those Hebrew people?

***

I arrive at the palace, and the air is thick with grief.

Most of my colleague advisors present have red, swollen eyes. Just like me.

I’m astounded, and they look astounded too. “You too?” we all ask ourselves. The fact that we’re all asking the same question makes it pretty obvious that the answer is the same.

Unbelievable.

We’ve all lost our sons.

A few moments later, and our master the Pharoah comes out of his private chambers.

What we see is astonishing.

Tears all over his face.

Goodness! Even the ruler of the land wasn’t spared from this horrible plague. How terrible!

As he takes his seat, there are no words from him. None at all. He just sits down and sobs quietly.

We should be there with him to comfort him. But honestly, we’re all reeling from this awful tragedy and have to nurse our own broken hearts.

Not that he’s entirely bothered, though. He’s as broken as the rest of us, and really, everyone is just in their seat, weeping over the death of their son.

Minutes of silence pass by, as we sob and mourn this dark night.

Then we hear our master the Pharoah murmur. “Call Moses and Aaron.”

***

I don’t know when they came, or how long it took for them to arrive. All I saw was that they entered the palace, and my heart burned with fury toward them.

Oh, if I was in the seat of my master, I’d have had them struck on the spot! Despicable vermin!

They stand before the throne, silently watching as our master the Pharaoh wipes away tears of grief. Then he stands to his feet, and in the most humble of tones, speaks.

“You can leave now.”

I and my colleague advisors look surprised. As I said, if I was in his shoes, I’d have had those two impaled on the spot with the sharpest of spears. Of course, I knew my master would have something different up his sleeves. But I was not expecting that.

“Please, leave this land! Just go! Depart from this place! Take your women, your children, take all your people, and go and serve the Lord as you said you have to do. Take everything you own! Your flocks, your herds, everything! I desire nothing else from you. All I ask is that you pray for me, that my life will be spared.”

Well, I guess my master the Pharaoh has had enough. Thanks to this demand of theirs, we’ve had nothing but havoc visiting the land. We’ve had way too much madness unleashed upon us. At this point, enough is enough. Their god has started striking our children; it’s only a matter of time until he comes after our wives and us.

As the two acknowledge his words and make their way out, I rise to my feet. “My master, may you live forever! I believe we should send word around, that our people should get these Hebrews to leave as quickly as possible. This is as far as it can get, respectfully. Their god has touched our firstborns, who knows what he’ll do next.”

My colleagues agree with me as they murmur in approval.

My master the Pharaoh nods, then turns to his servants present. “Spread the word right now! Every Egyptian should ensure that the Hebrews leave this land now! We don’t want them around here anymore! They must leave. Now!”

The servants acknowledge the order and move out immediately.

You can hear the collective sigh of relief among us as they depart to deliver the message.

Finally. This nightmare will be over. We’ve suffered enough.

***

TABIA

What a horrible couple of days it’s been for me and my family.

So many dear ones we lost because of the scourge upon the land.

I’ve wept. I’ve wailed. I’ve screamed. I’ve cried my eyes out.

It’s bad enough losing my first boy. I lost my older brother and my father. Can you imagine losing three essential people like that in one night?

Honestly, it’s been awful. Just awful.

And what hurts the most?

There’s really no shoulder to lean on. Every shoulder belongs to a bereaved person dealing with their own pain. No matter where you turn, there’s someone who is mourning a loved one.

We just returned from the seventh funeral in three days. Just imagine how mentally distressing that is!

Binra’s was the third, and goodness, how my heart ached seeing my boy getting buried in the sand! If my husband hadn’t held me, I’d probably have joined him in the grave.

Honestly, it’s been just awful these last couple of days. Losing material possessions and cattle was bad enough a few months ago, but at least they were replaceable. Losing three important males like this… is just another level altogether. It’s just been horrible.

Even in the midst of all this sorrow and grief, though, there are at least two things that I can take some solace from.

Number one: I might have lost so much, but at least I still have my husband and my younger son with me. It’s been horrible, and they’ve had to deal with so much pain as well, especially Tuba, who really loved his younger brother. But at least, it’s a reliever to wake up and know that the two of them are still around. At least there’s still someone to live for.

Number two: the Hebrews are finally gone.

Yes, finally!

Right after the disaster, he sent word around to all Egyptians, telling us to ensure the Israelites leave our land as quickly as possible. You can imagine the relief that poured over me when I heard that!

So I did my part, giving some of them pieces of my most expensive jewelry as some incentive of sorts to depart as fast as they could. I don’t know why I chose to give them my best jewelry, but really, as it is, I don’t care. If you think I’d treasure replaceable material possessions over my soul, then you are totally mistaken. I’d never be that stupid. Never.

Anyways, it took quite a while, but eventually, they all left. Every single one of them.

And I couldn’t be happier.

Honestly, this should’ve happened a long time ago. From the moment we had that gnat invasion, the Pharaoh should have let them go. Just look at what his stubbornness has caused. All this unavoidable damage and loss. As to why we had to lose people so dear to us before he made the right choice, I will never know.

But well, better late than never, I guess. At least they’re gone now.

Let’s just hope we can get ourselves back together and make Egypt great again…

Well, will that actually happen? I think we know the answer at this stage, but let’s keep going…