It is an unusually serene afternoon in El-Mina El-Gaf, the ‘dry port’ near Badr City, as columns of larger-than-life 18-wheelers and big rigs wait for customs officials to sign off paperwork. Some truck drivers wait dutifully with engines turned off, groups of them eating fuul sandwiches and drinking tea. Others lay restlessly in their cabins, staring at the gates and periodically punching the accelerator to let out a long, rebellious whine from the turbo. Several drivers camp out in a nearby garden under canopies, engaged in a lively debate with arms waving wildly in the air. Men of all ages stand idly by the trucks, awaiting permission to hop into their behemoths and tear up Cairo’s highways.

Amid the weary travelers, loud engines and scorching heat, a woman walks towards a truck, hops up the three boarding steps, and jumps into the driver’s seat. Ferial Khalil El-Adawey, Egypt’s only known female trucker (also known as ‘Osta’ Ferial or Omm Khaled) has been driving monster-sized trucks for 30 of the 52 years of her life.

Wearing a veil and sunglasses, she pulls down the window curtain, preparing to get some rest during the pit stop before her five hour drive to Alexandria’s port. The interior of her cabin is decorated with flowers and packed with a basket of chocolates, three water coolers, a couple of books on the Qur’an and a mattress in the back. In perfect irony, the 20-ton, 18-meter giant truck that serves as her primary home bears the brand of none other than the German marque “MAN”.

To say that Omm Khaled leads an eccentric life for a woman of her age would be an obvious understatement. But as she reflects on her youth, it becomes evident what swayed her towards the rough line of work she has chosen.

“I was born in a village, in Za’zeet, where they like to marry girls at a young age. I had seven sisters and a brother,” she says. “My mom sent me to Cairo at the age of three to be raised in the city with my aunt.” Her wealthy aunt, who had no kids of her own, treated her like a daughter.

Mohamed Allouba A home on the road: Omm Khaled and her 18-wheeler.

But Omm Khaled’s childhood was plagued by recurring fevers and illness and she had to leave school early. Though only twelve, her aunt decided marriage would be the remedy. “She figured it would bring joy to the family and show them I’m all grown up. I was physically and emotionally mature for my age.”

Four years later, the marriage ended in divorce. “We were both young, with no experience or understanding or maturity. It was admittedly a failure and it gave me a complex about men and the institution of marriage.”

At age 16, Omm Khaled found herself divorced with a child and a whole set of adult responsibilities. She returned to live with her aunt who brought in a personal tutor to continue Omm Khaled’s education. “She wanted me to be educated, even if I wasn’t going to get a degree. [The tutor would] come to my house and give me personal lessons.”

Despite benefiting from the education she received, Omm Khaled aspired to be independent. And that’s when it struck her. “I saw a taxi driver and told my aunt that’s what I wanted to do.” She applied at her local department of motor vehicles for a driving license.

At 18 years old, Omm Khaled once again left the cozy nest her aunt had established for her, and hit the road. “I became serious about driving. First, I looked into the seven-seat Peugeot taxi that travels to El-Arish. It required a class-3 license [for small vehicles].”

After a three-month intensive course in driving, mechanics and electrical engineering, she held the license in her hands and set her eyes on getting a cab. “From the beginning I was very confident; the first time I drove, the instructor asked if I had driven before. I learn very quickly.”

Omm Khaled was determined to pass driving school with flying colors. “I didn’t want anything to go over my head []. I used to help the other [male] students cheat. The traffic instructor would ask them sarcastically, ‘is she the one helping you guys?’ My logic was that I was in school and I needed to succeed. I needed to succeed in everything I carried out, so I invested all my emotion and focused on the work.”

She soon discovered that male truckers weren’t as impressed by her accomplishments, constantly teasing her about driving the cab.

“They would always say things like, ‘oh, she’s driving something right for her size,’ and it really got to me. Why would they speak in this way? What’s he driving that I can’t? I said to myself that after I finish my two year license, I’ll get the class-1 [license] and drive trucks bigger than theirs.”

So Omm Khaled decided to take it up a notch, or three. When her class-3 license expired two years afterward, she obtained her class-2 and began driving mid-sized trucks. Soon after, she was back at the track, being tested for the class-1 license in order to start driving the biggest rigs on the road.

“I drove everything with the license: In construction I drove loaders and bulldozers, forklifts, trailers and cranes. I’d load up with rocks and sand and just drive. It wasn’t hard. I passed through the slalom easily.”

Omm Khaled has worked for Thabet Transportation for a little over three years, moving goods to and from different ports in Egypt, and boasts that she’s the only female trucker in Egypt. “There’s a lady whose father owns a trucking company and she tried to get a license, but according to the DMV census, I’m the only woman who actually drives day in and day out,” she says. “People sometimes get the license just so they can import trucks. But is there another woman that can handle the lifestyle I lead here? No.”

A tough and unpredictable field of work, with long hours and weekends with little or no vacation, Omm Khaled says she’s grown accustomed to the nature of the job.

”The work has no days.There are no schedules or cycles, everything’s sort of meshed together,” she says. “Like now for example, I’m loaded and ready to go from here to Alexandria. It’s a five hour trip. Then I’ll get to the port and stay there for two or three or four hours. After that I have to be ready to go anywhere; Marsa Matruh, Sharm El-Sheikh or Siwa, that same night.”

Omm Khaled sometimes travels to Tripoli in Libya and back on the same day — a 6,000-kilometer road trip she doesn’t particularly enjoy, especially since she drives alone. Typically, most truckers have a co-driver or assistant but that’s not suitable in her case since she is a woman.

“I like driving alone; I’m used to it. Sometimes I’ll go to Sharm suda ruda (there and back) the same day from Sadat City. Or I’ll drive the cement mixer down to Toshka and back.”

“Usually I’ll be on my own and that can be troublesome without an assistant because of break-downs. Often the truck breaks down and I am stuck in the same spot from dusk ‘til dawn. I don’t get scared — even when there’s an accident or something I’ll stop and help out.”

Omm Khaled’s routes sometimes cut through treacherous mountains. “I once pulled over and got out only to stare at a wild wolf.”

The cabin of Omm Khaled’s truck is fully equipped with everything from cruise control to climate control. Fatigued after long hours of diving, she can easily pull over to the hard shoulder to take a quick nap.One pull of a string and the cabin transforms into her own private cocoon with bay-like window curtains and a cozy bed behind the seats, though there is not much time for snoozing.

“I’ll pull over to rest in the cab for an hour on the way or at a pit stop for a couple of hours.Rests are [usually] at the stops where we load or unload. [With this job] you’re always on the go, wanting to move the next load, so there’s no time for breaks.”

Omm Khaled has grown to accept her lifestyle not out of fondness for the job, but simply because it was her making. “I never thought about it as a liking or hobby. It was for work. It wasn’t a way to show off or to get excited, it was for independence. [] It was [a decision made] for making a living. Now I’ve [learned to] perfect it.”

Apart from driving, Omm Khaled says she has little interest in hobbies or activities. Always on the road, she rarely has free time. She occasionally watches the news on a TV inside her truck to keep herself connected to current affairs, “but that’s about it.”

The intuitive driver and mechanic’s primary hobby is learning everything there is to know about her truck. She drifts off as she begins to recall the trucks she’s driven over the years. “I drove a Renault, which was great at climbing mountains, maneuvering through hills and going through sand and stone,” she says. “The Mercedes has a nice hushed engine and soft steering. The MAN is like a real man; strong. Every truck is good in its own way. I can’t say that any one of them is my favorite because, for example, the Renault eats hills, but the new Mercedes has larger pistons than its older models, which couldn’t handle hills. There are always new developments.”

Omm Khaled keeps her imported MAN in good condition. “I always change the oil and other lubricants on time. I check up on the engine and the filters consistently.” When the tread on the tires are half-worn, she tells her boss to give them to the male drivers who have assistants and she gets new ones.

Omm Khaled has no doubt seen as many people who support her ambition as people who behave with malice and spite towards her.

“One woman once saw me and was really excited and proud she said she wanted to do what I do. I told her what’s involved and she changed her mind,” she says. “Horrible things happen to me as a woman in this job. I asked her if a man said so-and-so [to you], would you be able to respond?”

How does she face the frequent and harsh attacks? One might expect that 32 years in a line of work run by masses of roughneck, blue-collar men would have her running from the job, but Omm Khaled sticks to her guns. And when she’s pushed, she pushes back just as hard. “In moments of heated defense, my reaction is proportionate to the aggressor’s. I deal with such bee’a [riff-raff] people,” she says. “Once, while I stopped to pick up a fare, another taxi, bothered by the fact that I am a woman, pulled up by me and cursed me out. So I drove after him and didn’t leave him until I made him drive up the curb []. Even though I was raised right, I’m in a profession where you have to adapt to the [garbage] you deal with.”

Omm Khaled says she brushes off the critics and keeps in touch with those who support and respect her. “I can’t describe either those who are caring and considerate or those who are scornful. They’re two extremes and I really can’t describe how opposite they are.”

The trucker does not regret her decision to take this line of work. It is a living and she has come to embrace the good and the bad. She says she realizes that her rough childhood played a major role in her choices.

“I never really had any preferences when I was younger; my life was lost at the time. I had my son and I knew I needed to look for work,” she says nonchalantly. “[The marriage] gave me a complex from the loneliness. It hurt me so badly that [I accepted] work taking me over.”

Omm Khaled has her eyes on one last ambition: hajj (Pilgrimage to Mecca). “I applied last year but it didn’t work out. It’s hard because these agencies have prerequisites and I don’t have the money to pay for an expensive trip. Thirty thousand is enough for a decent trip.”

Her aunt has since passed away, but she’s very close to her son Khaled. The concept of marriage is still a sore subject for Omm Khaled. Does she consider re-marrying?

“No, no, I don’t think so. Love and marriage, in my opinion, don’t really exist,” she says. “It’s idealistic, and I know my expectations aren’t real. I don’t think there’s a man that can hold me close to his heart and his emotions. I’m not [damaged]; if a man were to give me love, I would reciprocate. I have feelings, love [to give] and security. I have everything, there’s nothing missing. And I’m loyal; I wouldn’t look at another man, whereas these other men, they sit with their wives and can’t stop staring at other women.”

Omm Khaled seems as though she has everything under control. No matter how hard it’s been, she’s managed to hold life by the reigns or, rather, by the wheel.

“I never left a challenge undone. I didn’t want anyone to say ‘Oh, but you can’t do this.’ I don’t get scared and say this is too hard or too big for me,” she says. “I jump in and don’t look back. People always look at me with wonder.” et