Hawalli Dwells in Hearts

Today, we continue the discussion we began in our previous article about the book “Hawalli: A Village of Peace and Entertainment” by the writer and visual artist Ayoub Hussein. I did not expect that publishing the article would turn it into an open forum where the local residents themselves would sit, each opening the box of their memories and adding something to it. I received very beautiful responses, which made me realize that Hawalli is still alive in the hearts of those who lived there.

From my dear brother Ahmad Baqer, the former minister and former Member of the National Assembly, I received a message that drew my attention to an important and noteworthy aspect of the book: the author’s listing of the family names that owned houses or farms in Hawalli, including the name of his father, may God have mercy on him. This is an aspect that deserves a dedicated article, God willing.

Then, I received a message from my brother Yousef Al-Sumait, Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Mubarrah Al-Mumtazin Foundation. He told me about the years he spent in a mud house near Al-Tawarri Mosque. He prayed in that mosque frequently and felt a sense of tranquility within its walls that never left him, despite his young age. He wrote a phrase that I consider the summary of the entire story: “Some places may change their appearance, but they never leave the heart.” I thank him for reminding me of the importance of connecting our children with their history and its values, which constitute a significant moral heritage from which we still draw sustenance today.

Similarly, I received words from my brother Riyadh Al-Sharakh, who described the article as “sweet memories” and asked me to write about Al-Naqra, its neighborhoods (furjan), and its women. He honored me with a gracious invitation to a gathering that brings together the people of Al-Naqra, specifically some of the neighborhoods of Al-Naqra Al-Tawarri. How beautiful it is for a memory to become a recurring occasion, and for old neighbors to meet, even as places change but loyalty remains.

As for my brother Khaled Al-Muwasharji, his message was full of vivid memories. He recounted how his father, may God have mercy on him, bought a house in Hawalli in 1953 on Al-Til Street, which is today known as Tunisia Street. He described how they moved there after their home in Old Kuwait was destroyed and collapsed in the 1954 earthquake. He spoke about his primary education at Al-Sana’ House opposite the Canary Restaurant, and about their residence in the Qibla area. He also mentioned Al-Rahab, which was then a wide thoroughfare used by airport vehicles. He concluded his remarks by saying: “What I mentioned from the book is what we lived. How beautiful Hawalli was at that time.”

Personally, I share some of my memories of Hawalli and Al-Naqra, albeit from a later period. I experienced them before we moved out of my father’s house, may God have mercy on him, after his death in 1968, to our new home in the Raudha area, which was then called “Al-Adiliyah Al-Sharqiya” (Eastern Al-Adiliyah). I remember my father’s diwaniya (gathering place) and the daily iftar meals he hosted. I recall him accompanying my brothers and other employees to Eid prayers. I clearly remember my studies at Al-Farabi Primary School, where our principal was Mr. Najm, may God have mercy on him. He had a particular habit: whenever he encountered any of the sons of Abdullah Al-Othaim, may God have mercy on him, he would tell him, “Open your hands and take two strikes from my cane.” I once gathered the courage to ask him, “Teacher, I haven’t done anything to be punished for.” He replied with a smile, “This is your father’s wish; he instructed me to administer preemptive punishment for you all.” Of course, I later understood why. We were many brothers and cousins in the school, and as a form of pre-emptive discipline, he did not want us to feel privileged in school simply because we were the sons of Al-Othaim, may God have mercy on him. He had a remarkably insightful, forward-looking perspective.

Of course, Al-Farabi School was new and beautiful, with gardens centered around a fountain, and it offered all kinds of sports, literary, and musical activities, as well as theater—everything was well organized. Like other schools of that lovely era, it was a pleasant place. From our home in Al-Naqra, I would walk to Tunisia Street via Ibn Rushd Street, and at the corner there was Al-Farabi Bookstore. I used to buy all the available comic books featuring Superman, Batman, Mickey Mouse, and many others, along with translated publications and newspapers. I believe that was the policy and public sentiment of the time. The shopkeeper’s name was Khalil, an Egyptian from Nubia, and he was always diligent, collecting the issues and stacking them up for me. Indeed, those were beautiful days in Hawalli and Al-Naqra. We conclude our article with verses by the late poet Abdullah Sinan Mohammed Al-Sinan, who said: “If you wish to watch and be entertained, hasten to go out to Hawalli.” Yours sincerely, Adnan Abdullah Al-Othman