Just like Rip Van Winkle! – Awate.com

How long have you been away from your home country? Are your memories still intact? Do you still have friends and family you are in touch with? Perhaps your childhood friends or relatives?

Do you shed tears or burst into tears because of nostalgia, especially when you hear songs or mundane events that remind you of the past? Or are you completely detached, free from the burden of memories and nostalgia? Maybe you don’t show it, you pretend you’re fine, but inside you’re in pain.

I will tell you the story of Rip Van Winkle in the hope that it will help you reflect and judge your situation in the Eritrea you left behind.

But first, let me thank my readers and viewers; today we have arrived at Negarit 281, it has been a long journey and I am grateful that you have been with me until today.

The life of the great Idris Muhammad Ali, who was sentenced to imprisonment without trial by Eritrea’s ruling party in 2005, has been immortalized in many patriotic songs. One of these songs is the one I used at the beginning of the video above. The last time I heard this song, I felt very melancholy. Believe me, I listened to it several times and tears came to my eyes – this song is so moving that I cried while singing it.

When I was a little boy, Amman returned to Karen after 15 years of absence in Sudan. He was dressed in Alaji clothing, a white beard, a large turban, and snakeskin shoes with Sudanese cut. People wondered how a man could be away from home for so long!

There is also a respected elder, Khelifa Adem Emneh, a former Italian soldier who served with the Italian occupation forces in Libya. When Muammar Gaddafi came to power in 1969, he joked: “Maybe he is the descendant of an Eritrean soldier!” Time flies, and now we have so many Rip Van Winkles around us.

Rip Van Winkle——

In this quaint village at the foot of New York State’s Catskill Mountains, there lived a kindhearted man named Rip Van Winkle. He was known for his willingness to help his neighbors with chores and his love of telling stories. However, what Rip loved most was the freedom of the outdoors, especially the solitary time he spent wandering the wilderness with his loyal dog, Wolfe.

Rip’s wife, Mrs. Van Winkle, often scolds him for being lazy at home, avoiding responsibilities, and pursuing leisure. Despite his wife’s constant nagging, Rip is satisfied with his daily life. One fateful autumn day, Rip feels his wife’s vitriol and decides to escape her anger by going to the mountains with Wolfe.

As he wandered deeper into the forest, he met a man carrying a barrel of wine and helped him carry the barrel to his destination deep in the forest. They came across a group of men dressed in old Dutch costumes playing bowling, also known as ninepins. Rip, always friendly, soon joined in their fun.

The men made Rip drink from the barrel, and Rip helped. Rip was not used to such strong wine, and he took a big gulp, and soon felt drowsy. Rip was very drunk because of the journey, and found a piece of grass under a big oak tree, and lay down, with Wolfe beside him.

When Rip woke up, he felt disoriented. Wolfe was gone, and so was the man in Dutch clothing. Rip rubbed his eyes and stumbled back to the village, but it was eerily quiet. The familiar buildings looked weathered and unfamiliar, and the few villagers he met had unfamiliar faces and confused expressions.

Confused and anxious, Rip hurried to his cabin, only to find it in a state of disrepair and without encountering anyone he knew.

Terrified and confused, Rip rushed through the village, looking for any familiar signs. Finally, he stumbled upon an inn, where the guests looked at him with surprise. They asked him who he was, and he said he was Rip Van Winkle. A man running for public office asked him if he voted; Rip said he was a loyal subject of King James. Rip didn’t know that the American Revolutionary War was fought with the British and that it was over; the Americans had established a democracy.

A kindly old woman asks him if he is really Rip Van Winkle, who disappeared in the mountains twenty years ago.

Twenty years! This fact hit Rip’s heart like a bolt from the blue. He had been sleeping in the forest for twenty years. Rip learned from the villagers in disbelief that many changes had taken place during his absence. The colonies had won independence from Britain, and his wife had died, leaving their children to grow up and wander around.

Overwhelmed by the passage of time and the death of his wife, Rip struggles to come to terms with his new reality. He moves in with his oldest daughter, who greets him with tears of joy. Although his surroundings have changed, Rip finds solace in the familiar faces of the now-grown children of the village, who fondly remember Rip as the gentle storyteller of their youth.

As the years passed, Rip became a living legend in the village, and his inexplicable sleeper stories became widely known. He would often sit by the fire in the inn and tell stories of his adventures in the mountains and strange encounters with the skittlers. The villagers would listen intently, hanging on his every word, as if Rip’s stories held a hint of mystery and the unknown.

Through it all, Rip Van Winkle remains a kind soul, even as he ages in body and spirit. He cherishes memories of his youthful adventures with Wolfe and firmly believes that life, despite its mysteries and changes, is a journey that must be embraced with an open mind.

And so, Rip Van Winkle lived out the rest of his life in a village at the foot of the Catskill Mountains, a man out of step with his times but forever connected to the land and its people. His story became a timeless legend of wanderlust, the passage of time, and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of extraordinary circumstances.

This is the power of literature – stories are not written for specific people, but for everyone. Anyone can see themselves in the story or outside of it, depending on their life experiences. Literature enriches our knowledge, it gives us the tools to think and improve ourselves, and therefore our culture. Most importantly, it helps us grow as people.

A nation that cannot develop its intelligence and create its own civilization by drawing on useful parts of the world’s heritage cannot survive with dignity. Worse still, it may decline and perish.

Individuals live for a maximum of forty years, but nations live for a different reason. Nations take a long time to be born, but they can also die suddenly, just as many great civilizations have suddenly disappeared. We need to realize that nations need to be nurtured like human life, so that they can quickly move towards civilized, modern life for the benefit of the people and humanity. I firmly believe that Eritrea will achieve this goal one day as long as we maintain our true patriotic spirit.