Ali Shahalom

She's hardly eaten, surviving on adrenaline and Zamzam water.

There are two ways to go back to Mina.

You either walk, which is over an hour in the heat, or you take the bus.

Now, we're packed inside this crowd like sweaty sardines and everyone's trying to get to the front.

My cute etiquette disappears faster than the Vaseline between my thighs.

Elbows are flying, toes are getting trampled, and every time a bus appears, the crowd surges forward.

It's madness.

Suddenly, I feel the carrier bag of bananas I'm holding get snatched from my hand.

I spin to face the culprit, ready to give it some braveheart.

You can take my sandals, but you'll never take my bananas.

only to see a woman open it and vomit inside.

We were in an open field.

She could have chosen to be sick anywhere on the floor, but did it in my banana bag.

Nothing in the telegram chat prepares you for that type of horror.

Then out of nowhere, my wife loses consciousness and collapses in my arms.

She is out cold.

I start screaming over the crowd.

Everyone, make some space.

I have an emergency.

Bruv, no one moved.