At a certain time, Tayyib al-Mahdi believed that his mission in this world had come to an end. Deeply relaxed, with only minor aches and pains, he would mutter to himself in contentment, “All praise to God, Lord of the Worlds.” He had generous health insurance and a more than adequate pension. He lived in an apartment that he owned in Nasr City, which he had won as a reward for many years of service abroad. His four daughters had each gotten married — there was nothing left for him to do but to spend his evenings with his wife, watching television, reading the newspapers, and listening to the radio channel devoted to the Qur’an.
Was it so strange, then, that he thought he had discharged his duties in life in a commendable way? Yet he had no idea what the future had hidden from him, for one night a man of radiant appearance, bathed in light and wrapped in a snow-white robe, came to him in a dream. In a kindly tone, the apparition told him:
From this moment onward, and for as long as God wills, you shall have the power to tell something, Be! — and it will be. Do with it what you please.
When he woke from his sleep, Tayyib pondered the meaning of his dream. But no sooner had he forgotten it, the way one typically does with dreams, than peculiarly it recurred exactly in its entirety on the following night, and for many nights on end, until he felt there was some secret message hidden within it. Wisely, though, he kept it to himself, telling no one about it, not even his companion in life, his wife Haniya. At the same time, he felt infused with physical energy, filled with confidence, inspiration, and joy. And why not? He was a good man; his sins were forgivable ones. Pious and observant, he was a lover of virtue who lived his life — despite his modest status — as though he bore on his shoulders the worries of the world and of people everywhere.
But from the dream’s intense, ceaseless pursuit of him, he decided to try out his supposed new power discreetly. One evening as he was watching a discussion on the first channel on television, his wife Haniya busy in the kitchen, he mentally demanded that it switch to the second channel instead. Without any warning, and without him rising from his seat, channel one disappeared, replaced by a foreign film on channel two. Trembling in violent confusion, he was seized by conflicting emotions of fear and elation.
He kept commanding the television to change channels, and ordering the room’s chairs to rise in the air, then returning them to their original places, until he was sure of the miracle that had befallen him. He accepted that its significance was beyond his comprehension — yet he saw that his purpose in the world was not yet fulfilled. Indeed, it had not even begun.
He recalled his benevolent dreams for his country and the planet, which had flared and faded in just a few seconds. Now was the time that they all would come true. He would reform reality with his own hands, but without any acclaim or credit to his name. Yet he reckoned that he must heed the inner voice that had accompanied him through his long life, which occupied his mind when awake or asleep. So at the time that he habitually went to the café each day, he got dressed, his awesome new power enfolded within him, and — entrusting himself to God — left the house in his usual way.
As he hailed a taxi to take him to the heart of the city, the driver waved his hand at him in haughty refusal, speeding on his way without paying him further mind. Even though this was hardly the first time such a thing had occurred, Tayyib’s irritation now was greater than in the past. He considered for a moment that he could make the driver suffer an accident on the road. Whoever is granted a power like mine, must use it only for good. As he said this to himself, his anger nonetheless got the better of him. He stared at the taxi’s rear wheels — and both of them exploded suddenly, like a bomb. The driver pulled over, and drumming his palms together in frustration, glanced back and forth at the two shattered tires. “Both at one time!” he exclaimed.
Tayyib felt that he had taught the man a needed lesson, but had it been mistaken for mere coincidence? He walked by the man, casting him a meaningful look and asking, “Can I be of any help?” but his unknowing pupil glared at him, resentful and enraged. When Tayyib reached the bus shelter, he stood beneath it. As the bus pulled up, jammed with humanity, he watched an argument erupt inside between a woman and a man behind her. He couldn’t hear what was going on between them, but he studied the dimensions of the conflict carefully. Then the man suddenly slapped the woman’s face with shocking impulsiveness. Tayyib was so startled by the incident that he focused all his anger at the offending man’s stomach. Stricken by severe cramps, the brute unexpectedly doubled over, moaning and screaming in pain. The bus didn’t move until he had been carried outside for an ambulance to fetch him. Meanwhile, more than one voice cried out, “He deserves it! That’s what he gets for his bad manners and cheekiness.” Tayyib al-Mahdi observed all this with satisfaction, certain that he had done his duty in the best manner possible.
Continuing on his way to the café, he performed memorable services. Spotting a gaping pothole, he filled it. Finding an electrical box hanging dangerously open, he locked it. Tripping on a pile of rubbish, he removed it. Splashed by sewer water flooding an alley, he drained it. All these things together convinced many in the neighborhood that a genuine awakening had struck the nerves of the state — or even had gone beyond mere awakening to an outright renaissance.
He took his seat in the café, to refresh his mind with a cup of coffee. He listened to the radio as an announcer was expounding on promising developments expected in the future. Tayyib al-Mahdi was annoyed: similar prognostications had excited him in the past, though in the end they had produced only frustration. His chest tightening in fury at what the man was saying, he commanded him from afar … Tell us what has already been accomplished— not what has yet to be achieved! Then he remarked to himself that only sneezing would stop this broadcaster from speaking. Without warning the man sneezed massively, then remained silent. Perhaps he was drying his nose and mouth with a kerchief. Resuming his chat, he abruptly sneezed again, more emphatically than before. After that, he couldn’t complete a whole sentence. The sneezes kept waylaying him until he was forced to conclude that an unforeseen illness had seized him. Rather than trying to talk anymore, he instead played a recorded song, “Walk Around and See.”
Tayyib was intoxicated with a rapture of happiness and victory. He would purify both aural and visual broadcasting of what was unworthy of their noble goals. He would terminate any talk that displeased him by making the speaker sneeze spontaneously, or emit trilling cries like those made by women at weddings, or flee at the onset of uncontrollable diarrhea. Without any doubt, he would be the trusty popular censor of the dangerous media of mass communication.
At this time he noticed a man called Sulayman Bey al-Hamalawi surrounded by slavish devotees and followers, not far from his own seat in the café. Sulayman’s stooges crowded around their benefactor in hypocritical sycophancy, inflating him grossly with arrogance and conceit. The tax authorities counted Sulayman, one of the fat cats of the reforms, among the city’s poor. “Wonderful,” Tayyib mumbled. “Just wonderful.”
Sulayman Bey, go straight to the tax prosecutor’s office to repent and say you’re sorry, and pay up the millions of pounds you owe. Immediately the man got up and went to his car parked outside. Tayyib rubbed his hands with glee — tomorrow his victim will be the talk of the newspapers, which will make an example of him to awaken people’s consciences. And when Sulayman returns to his villa, he will wonder what had befallen him, beating his head against the wall in despair.