I was in Egypt from Tuesday through Saturday — the first five days of the people’s uprising. I witnessed a series of events and actions that have left me flabbergasted. I was there for three reasons: to see my family, to hold several meetings and to attend my cousin’s wedding. When we received word of the peaceful protests, I e-mailed ahead of my husband’s fears of me traveling and was told that there was nothing alarming and that they had not received any warnings from the relevant security officials.

I traveled alone, leaving my husband and children in Jeddah, tending to their usual daily activities that entail work, school and practice during the week, and chilling at the beach on the weekend. Little did I know that they too would be dealing with a major ordeal — the Jeddah floods!

It had started to rain in Jeddah on Monday night, and on my way to the airport I could see that there were signs of some preliminary public damage, but by all means I did not anticipate the magnitude of the rain.

There was heavy traffic, and people were driving with particular caution. After a 55-minute journey that should have lasted 20 minutes at the most, I arrived at King Abdulaziz Airport’s Saudia Terminal. I felt so much weight on my heart as I approached my destination because my daughter — who should have been at school when I left but instead was home because of the rain — sobbed incessantly and clung to my abaya as if it were our final goodbye forever when I kissed her and departed. I slipped and fell as I stepped out of the car, injuring my elbow! Why did I fall down? Nothing was going the way it should have: I was going to see my mother and sisters, attend orientation meetings for a job I recently took up, and participate in the wedding of one of my favorite cousins.

I arrived safely in Cairo at 11 a.m. on the day of the peaceful protests that were to start at 2 p.m. It was a peaceful drive to Maadi via the ring road, passing by the fifth settlement of Kattameya, the City Center and other commercial and residential blocks. I was under the impression that the day would develop just fine, as usual. When I voiced my thoughts to the driver, he mentioned that on his way to the airport he had witnessed hundreds maybe thousands of central security guards taking their positions near and around Tahrir Square in downtown Cairo, where the protest was to initiate.

My mother greeted me with such emotion; it seemed more like a sense of relief. We talked like we always do, mostly around our kitchen table or just lying on her bed, with the television tuned to Al Jazeera and Al Arabiyah to keep track of the rally that was about to begin. The crowds began to gather in and around Tahrir Square. They came from all social strata. Most people carried peaceful signs that pronounced five clear-stated demands: that the president steps down, that neither he nor his son runs for office again; that the Cabinet be dissolved and new ministers be appointed, that the Parliament be dissolved and new fair elections take place, and that the Constitution be amended. There was a lot of security on the streets but there was no engagement between them and the protesters. Surrounding streets were closed off to prevent needless confrontations.

For several hours, events continued rather peacefully. Many of my family members and friends were among the demonstrators and I felt envious of their strong sense of civic engagement, patriotism and willpower. I had promised my husband that I would remain sensible, avoid getting into what he called “unnecessary trouble,” and would not be impulsive. Alas, I am a woman of my word.

Even though my mother’s car was in the repair shop, I did not feel insecure by the lack of transportation. I did not feel threatened and it was actually a good excuse for my friends who wanted to meet over dinner. If they did not come to Maadi, I could not join them because of lack of transportation.

As the early hours of the evening ticked in, the tone of the events were slowly shifting. Tension was building up. People did not seem to disperse and go home. People started declaring that they would remain and their tone became far more hostile. The protest went on into the late hours of the night and my mother and I eventually gave in to sleep.

Wednesday morning I left home at 7.15 a.m. to attend meetings in the fifth settlement in Kattameya. The driver lived close to Tahrir Square and I asked him what he saw as an outcome of the previous day’s demonstrations. People were on the streets until way after midnight. He heard ad hoc gunshots and other sounds that left his imagination run wild. As he drove on the Corniche toward Tahrir Square and Garden City eventually arriving in Maadi, he saw the residuals of what appeared to be some confrontations: broken glass, broken billboards, displaced street banners and signs etc. He was not sure what had taken place there, but something had occurred. He finally mentioned that another “peaceful protest” was to take place.

(To be continued tomorrow)