Slingshot Alley [Archives:1999/25/Focus]

“Where did all these kids come from?” Samia asked her husband, as she noticed him trying to wiggle his car between the parked cars, peddler carts and wagons, fruit stands and tens of children running to and fro, but not seeming to be headed anywhere. 
Mahmoud, not really approving of his wife’s efforts at striking conversation, in these tense moments, answered: “It is the summer vacation and their citadels of scholasticism are now closed. With so few parks and little recreation available to them – and their parents all out chewing qat, they only have the street to resort to, to get over the vacation period. When schools are out, you know that means half the population of the country are out on the streets giving poor guys like me a hard time as we make the dreadful trip to your mother’s house. Just look at all those brats, they are everywhere; some are in front of us, some behind us, on our right and on our left. I would not be surprised if two or three tiny brats were also underneath the car!” 
Murad, their 10-year-old son sitting in the back said, “It will probably take an hour to get to Grandma’s house. Oh, oh, close your windows everyone, we are approaching Slingshot Alley.”As if to confirm Murad’s geographical information, two pebbles hit the sides of the car, coming from God knows where. They sounded like giant pieces of hale hitting the car. 
Mahmoud couldn’t lose the chance to get at his wife, “I told you dear, the best way to come visit your mother is in an armored personnel carrier. We have not yet fixed the dents we got the last time we came here.” 
Murad, again volunteered some information: “The kids of this neighborhood are notorious for playing with slingshots. In fact, all the kids in Sana’a would never dare get into fights with any of the kids here. Did you know that two weeks ago a foreign tourist was hit in the eye, and it was said that she had to return home a Cyclops.”Did they catch the kid who did it?”, asked his mother. 
“No way” said Murad, “Even if anyone knew who did it, they would not dare tell anyone. Otherwise, they would find their house the next day with what I call ‘paneless’ windows, as about ten of these kids would launch an attack with their rapid shooting slingshots on the informer’s house and within two minutes, not one sheet of glass in the windows of the house would remain intact.” These guys have turned slingshot use into a refined means of intimidation.”Bang! Another oversized pebble hit the side glass adjacent to Murad, but it luckily appeared to have been shot by a beginner. 
“How far to go before we get out of Slingshot Alley, Murad?” asked his father, not finding too much amusement in the sound of the pebbles bouncing off the sides of his car. 
“Twenty meters left”, replied Murad feeling some degree of authority. 
A crowd gathered about 10 meters away as they were approaching the periphery of Slingshot Alley. They were looking at a brand new BMW that was just hit with a big stone, apparently fired by one of the more advanced hit men of the Alley. The stone had done its damage well, turning the back glass shield into a foggy crystal labyrinth of cracks. As soon as the ignition is turned, the glass would all collapse into the car. A guy – apparently the owner Ð was shouting: 
“I spent my whole inheritance to buy this car. If I get my hands on you, I will break both of your hands. Where are the police?” 
“Poor guy, he is so annoyed and yet helpless.” Samia was reflecting the soft touch of womanhood. 
Mahmoud wanted to set his wife straight on the guy: “He is also such a big liar! Can you imagine this? He is telling us he spent all his inheritance on the car”, said Mahmoud, continuing with his own version of the facts: “I know this guy, his father was a poor firewood cutter, who barely made enough to keep his family fed, let alone build up an estate for his kids to inherit. He is really one of those government officials who think public service is a take all you can enterprise. Just send your conscience on a vacation, without pay.”Murad had additional information, giving some of the brighter points about Slingshot Alley: “The cars of government officials are the prime targets of the kids here. In fact, anyone who hits an official’s car or head gets a special sling shot as a prize, which is made of real genuine Indonesian rubber, rather than the synthetic rubber bands most kids use here and elsewhere. The common feeling among the resident kids here is that a lot of government officials are corrupt and seem to get away with it rather easily.””These are the longest – and most nerve-racking twenty meters I have ever driven. We should have left the car in the parking lot west of the old city of Sana’a, said Mahmoud, continuing, “if we had walked to your mother’s, we would be on our way back by now.””Yes, but by the time we got back to the car, it would have been stolen”, said Murad. 
“Who would want to steal this jalopy?”, asked Samia, sarcastically, “If this car gets stolen, it will not be long before the thieves start to look for us to pay us to take it back!””Look, Samia,” Mahmoud spoke in defense of his faithful car, “Don’t knock this loyal machine. It has served us well. Besides, I did not inherit any fortune, like the woodcutter’s son back there. All I have is my ever-shrinking salary, which now barely covers the bills for the precarious utility services we enjoy. If it wasn’t for the part-time taxi, you are sitting on now, we might all be standing in the street intersection there wiping the windshields that managed to get through Slingshot Alley in one piece.”Murad wanted to continue showing off his knowledge of geography: “Here is the intersection before Grandma’s house. Try to cross it before the light turns red. Otherwise, all those walking retail outlets in the intersection will put all their goodies underneath our noses, offering everything from rat traps to satellite phones.””You should not criticize these people for trying to make an honest Riyal”, said Mahmoud to his son. His mother added: “After all, they do not have an inherited trust fund, which our government officials have been blessed with.””Father, is corruption in government a crime?” Murad was indicating how difficult it is nowadays to distinguish between good and evil. 
“Of course, it is, son.” answered Mahmoud with little hesitation, elaborating: “It is like a cancer that affects all the society. Once it gets implanted, it is very hard to contain or get rid of. It also leads to other sicknesses, which afflict the society, and slows down or halts any chances for achieving real progress and prosperity for the people. Moreover, the corrupt government officials actually find that keeping the society enmeshed within a corrupt government system is their assurance that they will have a free hand to direct the flow of government resources towards fulfilling their selfish greed.” 
Samia wanted to add to Mahmoud’s lecture: “Corruption can get so bad, that the corrupt officials start to believe that it is the only way to govern, and the only reason why governments exist!””But, DadÉMom, if government officials are becoming rich in a criminal manner, then they will not be justified in chasing the criminals who are getting rich outside the government system?” Murad was beginning to see the calamity of corruption from a different perspective. 
“Murad, have no fear, that government function has been taken out of the government’s agenda a long time ago. There is even a sense of camaraderie between the criminals inside the government and those outside of it. Sometimes, they even work together!””If corruption is such a widespread evil, then I say, every neighborhood will have a Slingshot Alley, and a lot of government officials are going to have to drive around town in armored cars, if they want to go anywhere. Then, the sons of the corrupt government officials will not be able to show-off their fancy illegitimate assets, anymore.” Murad pointed this out as began to see that, somehow, things in the country are not in their proper order.
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