CAIRO - Change in the diction of Egyptians has one way or another acquired fresh meanings in the post January 25 era. For some, it signifies broad notions, such as political freedom, democratic performance in all walks of life and rotation of power. But for a large segment of the population, change is synonymous with the ability to put food on the table and to live in a clean environment, the basics of life for which they have been yearning for years. There is extensive talk these days about ill-gotten gains of former officials and key figures of the ousted regime, which has actually whetted the appetite of shantytown dwellers and others in the marginalised strata of society to claim their lost rights. They demand better living conditions, which they believe was one of the causes for the outbreak of the revolution. Batn el-Baqara, an area situated in the heart of old Cairo in the vicinity of the historic Amr Ibn el-Aas Mosque, is stereotypical of many slum areas throughout the country, where piles of garbage, leaking sewage in addition to conditions representing other forms of eye sores dominate the picture. Some 3600 families live in that neighbourhood whose alleys are too narrow to allow the passage of a car. They live in randomly built houses with each room accommodating an entire family of five, six or even seven members. The life of these people is a constant journey of suffering; the day starts with a long queue at the door to a WC which is shared by neighbouring families and effectively ends with crumbs of bread. Batn el-Baqara, like many other areas in Egyptian cities and towns, was supposed to be demolished about two decades ago. But owing to laxity and indifference, these people were not relocated. They had to continue to put up with an inhumane way of living in an area deprived of basic services. The residents of Batn el-Baqara are mostly day-to-day workers engaged in pottery making, leather tanning or woodworking businesses. The women work as house cleaners or street vendors wandering from one street to another, selling packs of paper tissue or panels ornamented with Quranic verses. Sayeda Abdel Ghani, a widow with two children who lives in a dilapidated room had a simple question to ask a reporter from Al-Ahram Arabic daily: “Is the revolution not going to clean up the area and set up a sewerage grid?” Residents of Batn el-Baqara might not understand the relation between the amended Constitution and finding bread for their children. But they are certain that they have the right to live like human beings in a post-Mubarak Egypt. They dream of a president and a government that are more concerned with the development of poor districts than with making fortunes. Some of the families have lived there since they settled in the area in l960 and actually resist the idea of being moved elsewhere. They merely wish that their neighbourhood place would be upgraded. They have been protected by their instinct of survival despite tragic incidents, which they have become used to, such as a roof collapsing or a sick person dying because of lack of medical care. They have learned to put up with harsh living conditions and to live on peanuts, but they have raised their voices today asking why prices have not come down. However, members of this community that have received some regular education realise that change would not come overnight, yet are optimistic that the new spirit of the revolution would eventually find its way to them. In a country where about 40 per cent of its population live under the poverty line, according to international human development reports, shantytowns pose a series of threats to social and economic stability. Millions are therefore looking forward for the time when this file would be among the priorities of the Government following the present transitory period of governance.
