I love Australia. I have always loved this country and its people since the day I arrived. This country that Australians have built is like a paradise compared to where I come from. Yet since the day I arrived, I have been screaming to anyone who would listen, not to allow the Muslims to come in here.
‘Why not’ they ask me? ‘We let you in, didn’t we?’
“Yes,” I reply, “but I don’t want to change your country or to take over. I just want to be a part of it and fit in”
If there is one thing I would like to change about Australians, it is their naivety. I don’t blame you for it. Growing up in such a wonderful country, it is almost impossible to imagine how people in other parts of the world can be so different.
I am a Christian, but I had the misfortune to be born in Egypt, which is a Muslim country. Fortunately for me, Egypt was under the rule of the British Empire as a Protectorate from 1882 until the 1956 Suez conflict. Anyone who thinks the British Empire was a force for evil has never lived through what me and my family have been through.
In 1956, I was living in Cairo when the Suez Canal war broke out. I was 13 years old at the time. That was when the British lost control of Egypt, thanks largely to American, Russian and UN pressure.
When us kids were allowed back to our English School of Heliopolis after the war, we found out, to our utter dismay, that all our Pom teachers had been expelled from Egypt. (Together with a huge number of other Europeans)
First lesson on the first day back, was a History class, our new teacher was one Mr Salama . . .I shall NEVER forget him. A short, squat man, with short wavy greying hair. Thick fat, wet lips, short fat fingers, and blue/grey eyes.
Mr Salama looked at us all with utter disdain, and explained that the Suez Canal ‘win’, (we actually believed Egypt had won, cos that is what we were told) was just the beginning of the creation of the new Caliphate.
He said: "All you dogs and pigs, remember my words. Us Muslims made a pact at the last Crusade to rebuild our numbers by marrying as many women as we could, then, when it is time and we have the numbers, to INVADE all Christian countries, BY ANY MEANS.
"Once inside, we will then force our demands on the host countries. We shall implement our Sharia Law. We shall proselytise, we shall marry the local women to bear as many children as they can, we shall build madrassas, we shall build mosques, we shall convert everybody, and FINALLY, we will have done what Mohammad (here he interrupted himself to bless Mo’s name) wanted us to do. I am an old man now, and will not see this Caliphate, but you pigs and dogs will."
I turned around to my bench mate, a kid called Eshkenazy, and asked him, “who the hell are the pigs and dogs?”. He looked at me pityingly and replied, “you and me darling… the Christians and the Jews.”
WOW! I had never seen myself as a pig or a dog!… more like a CAT, as I am a Leo! In Islam, to call someone a pig or a dog, is one of the most offensive insults you can give.
Anyway . . .that lesson has remained in my memories and is as clear today, as it was then.
Muslims have NEVER stopped fighting the Crusaders, or The People of the Cross, (nas el saleeb, or gemaat el kitab – which means the People of the Book, as they call us… either that, or “The Nazarenes,” when referring to Christians).
People these days are being taught that Christians and Jews lived in peace and harmony in Muslim lands far more than Muslims could live in Christian lands. This is an outright lie.
My Egyptian family were forced to pay the Jezeyah for centuries. This is the onerous tax that is levied by Muslims on all Christians and Jews living in Muslim lands. They are forced to pay this tax on pain of death by beheading. They are also forced to accept great humiliation each year when they pay and are reminded of the death sentence that awaits failure to pay. (In Australia, this ‘slave’ tax is exacted through the Halal Certification program, seen on almost every single packaged food product in Australia.)
Eventually, my Egyptian family could no longer pay the Jezeyah. They had been paying it for centuries but finally, there was just no money left. When that happened, the Muslims confiscated all our ancestral land, all our assets and left my family in abject poverty. It is a very difficult and painful thing for me, to think about this.
I only recount it to tell others of the fate that awaits them should Muslims ever become a majority in this country.
If that were to happen, I am convinced that the Muslims would quickly vote the Aussies out of power and what happened to me, would soon be happening to your children. I have been telling people for years, that once Muslims have the numbers, they will take over positions of power in government, and they will marginalise us. I have lost many friends over this contentious issue, but I know I am right.
It started when a Muslim Pollie entered government by swearing on the Quran.
The Quran is very clear in its directive – Quran (3:28) – "Let not the believers Take for friends or helpers Unbelievers rather than believers: if any do that, in nothing will there be help from Allah: except by way of precaution, that ye may Guard yourselves from them. But Allah cautions you (To remember) Himself; for the final goal is to Allah." The word 'friend' is Awliyaa which is inclusive of friends, protectors and helpers – the components of civil society. See also verse 5:51
I am appalled that our current Pollies have no notion of international history, no notion of what makes other nationalities tick. No notion of their mindset, their traditions etc. As other Pickering Posters have rightly said, Westerners assume that other people in the world are like them.
When the Poms were expelled from Egypt, it took a very short space of time for the infrastructure to start falling apart. The first thing I noticed, and I was just a kid, was the dirty smelly water running down the streets. Apparently, the sewage system had broken down, and nobody knew how to fix it – no Poms to guide and teach them anymore!
As for myself, I was no shrinking violet and had to learn to defend myself on the streets of Cairo, where my private parts got grabbed and groped. I figured, "well, two can play at this game."
I took to watching the eyes of the men around me, and if I saw even the slightest hint of intent, I attacked first, by lunging forward, grabbing a handful of their private parts which I could discern quite clearly through their djellebahs, and then twisting with all my might.
They ended up on the ground at my feet, screaming with pain. It only happened twice, but never again . . .the story got around of my ferocity, they called me el shaitana (which means “the she devil”). My Egyptian grandmother would have died if she had known! Fortunately, my mother was out of the country, she never knew either.
I don't think this is a good story to tell. It is my story and my burden, which I managed to live with and survived.
My understanding of Muslim intent, came through my adventurous forays on wagging school. I used to slip out of my boarding school on Saturday afternoons and go wandering around a bazaar called Khan el Khalili.
This bazaar was started in the 1300s by the dreaded Turks and is still going strong today. It is a place of amazing colour, incredible mouth-watering aromas of delicious Middle Eastern cooking, a great visual bonanza of masses of gold and silver jewellery hanging from little doorways, pottery, mountains of brass pots and pans, and an endless cacophony of sound and speech of the shoving, pushing humanity, the whole overlaid with the incessant wailing of Arabic music.
I met a man who was always busy making lovely ladies' sandals, with his myriad bits of coloured strips of leather. I was fascinated with his deftness, his choice of colours, how he put it all together, creating his sandals before my very eyes.
He noticed me standing there, and offered me a little three-legged stool, so I could sit and watch him at work. The next time I went and sat with him, he offered me Tamar Hindi Sharbat – (same as Sherbet in English), a drink made of Tamarind seed, which is steeped in water, to create a refreshing drink. In Arabic, they call it Tamar Hindi . . . I can't understand why, ‘Hindi’ because it is not an Indian tree but a north African one!!
Anyway, the little Muslim fella started talking to me, he told me he knew I was a Christian, that he had a daughter my age, and that if he thought she was wondering about in a souk (bazaar), he would have a heart attack.
He told me that Muslims are given instructions on how to get to heaven: humiliating, raping, or killing a Christian would give them a sure one-way ticket to paradise. Then he stuck his hand in the deep pocket of his djelebah and pulled out a knuckle duster, which he gave me with these words: ”don’t EVER let anyone do anything to you, that you don't want”.
I learnt to use that knuckle duster to great effect. If anyone came anywhere near me, I whacked them with my deadly weapon I was also able to defend myself from the young men who gathered outside my Catholic church to pelt me with stones when I came out from Mass. I used to collect the stones and pelt them back with deadly accuracy. I felt quite Crusaderish!! One time, instead of the stones, they tried to attack me from close up. I lashed out with my knuckle duster and floored two of them. The others took off, hurling verbal insults at me as they went. None of the other churchgoers helped defend me. . .they were too scared. This was in faraway 1958/9 . . .just imagine what it is like today!
When I left Cairo for the last time in 1959, the Customs Officials at Cairo airport took the knuckle duster from me.
So, just imagine what coming to Australia and learning that I could walk down the street without getting groped and grabbed and spat upon meant to me!! I was in paradise!! I was in a civilised country! I was in a Christian country! I was with other people like me! I could open my mouth without getting jailed for it! I could walk down the street with a short-sleeved shirt and short skirt without being told I was a whore, just asking to be raped!
My kids could grow up and be whatever they wanted to be, without fear of being ostracised because they were Christians. Wow!! The very joy of being in this wondrous country is beyond descriptive words. People who haven't 'been there', HAVE NO IDEA!!
I've been gone from Egypt since 1959, but the fear is back, now that things have drastically changed in Oz . . .and I am 75 this year! I still have people dear to me in Cairo.
They get traumatised every day of their lives, on the streets, during Christian festivities, etc ad infinitum et nauseam. Every Christmas and Easter, my soul shivers in dread fear for them. Even for myself, Australia is now full of these demented, vicious Muslims, who wouldn't think twice about making my life a misery… I don't care so much about myself but have to think of the rest of my family.
This insane idea of mass immigration is not about ‘refugees’, this is a bloody invasion, coordinated by the Muslim Leaders. This is something that was planned approximately 800 years ago, after the last Crusade, like Mr Salama told me all those years ago.
If Australians don’t wake up soon to the insane, self-destructive treasonous motives of our leaders, we will all find ourselves trapped in an Islamic hell hole and it will be too late to do something about it.
I thank God for The Pickering Post and I thank Larry for his efforts to bypass the lying, corrupt media and tell the truth to the Australian people. So many people are afraid to speak out through insane Politically Correct accusations of racism.
I am a wog! How is a wog racist? I am not a racist, I am a realist, and I can see the horrendous danger our Pollies are putting us into. We came to Australia to be safe, to leave behind the horrors of our youth.
But I won’t be silenced. I will shout this from the rooftops with my dying breath.
“Wake up Australia and stop the mass immigration of Muslims into your wonderful country before it is too late!”