Tales of Yusuf Tadros by Esmat Adel;McClure Mandy;

Author:Esmat, Adel;McClure, Mandy;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The American University in Cairo Press
Published: 2017-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

Yusuf Tadrus says:

The day after I returned from Cairo, I was summoned for questioning at the school regarding a complaint to the supervisor that I was late for my classes. A few days later, they questioned me about another complaint, saying I hadn’t explained the lessons thoroughly. This was all ordinary, and I took it in good faith. I even joked with the vice-principal who did the questioning. But things changed when the school principal summoned me, closed the door, and told me they’d found love letters the girls had written me. She showed me a sample—I only read, “My darling Yusuf . . . .” I told the principal I wasn’t at fault. For me, middle-school girls are children. I’d noticed some of them had a crush on me and others were quarrelsome, but I would laugh and deal with it in a friendly way, or seriously at times. Sometimes I threatened to call a parent. I saw them as youngsters. One of them might develop a crush on me, but for it to turn into questions from the principal raised alarm bells.

It all became clear a few days later, when I was summoned to the administration’s legal affairs department following a complaint from some students that in English class I had spoken about Christ and read verses from the Bible. I realized something was being orchestrated against me, purposefully and systematically. I suspected the athletics teacher, but it was bigger than that, involving employees in the administration and education department. It had to come from higher up. I took the matter seriously and told the investigator that I refused to teach the Christianity course and left that to a colleague because I wasn’t versed in matters of religion, and that if I’d wanted to be a missionary, I’d have gone to Africa.

My life soured. I sensed a lurking danger in the faces of those greeting me in the morning and a watchful silence around me.

A senior investigator from the education department by the name of Naim Subhi visited me at school. He was a solemn man, a relative of Rida Boulos, highly respected in the family and on the job. The principal left us alone in a room. Mr. Naim closed the door slowly and sat facing me, sizing me up before apprising me of the facts.

“You know me, I know you. I couldn’t possibly be biased against you,” he began.

That preface alarmed me even more and I waited. The cold gaze he fixed on my face suggested he’d come at the behest of his superiors, although he was trying to convey it as a message from someone who was concerned for me. I grasped the matter in a flash and knew I’d fallen into the trap. It wasn’t only about Sana. His story made sense of the air of vigilance around me at school. I started to understand previously incomprehensible things, like why my colleagues had avoided me, feigning business.

My whole life I’ve known that the signs

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