I am now 93 years of age, and I have no idea what has kept me from writing about these long years for so long. Nothing... except the thought had never occurred to me before... I feel that what was left of my memory sparked the idea of retaining the memories that have remained with me since my childhood throughout this journey that has brought me to this number of years, 93... many of which have been dropped from my memory... What can you expect of an elderly man who used to respond to the interactions of his friends and family members by saying "I cannot remember!" However, many memories, pictures, and words associated with the old quarter, my father's shop, my homeland, Riyadh, Cairo, the university, the Bureau of Experts and the Shura Council surface from time to time.

Let me agree with you that I am a mixture of memory and oblivion, so I will tell you what I remember first, and then what I could remember of the events that were previously forgotten. Did I express myself well and got it across? I hope you understand, and I promise I won't repeat some of the stories I'm currently telling my kids and friends. I sometimes get the impression that I'm reminiscing about an old incident or situation. Therefore, I start talking about this priceless memory...only to be surprised that my audience's expressions of awe and concern are completely absent. "Have I ever told these stories?" I ask as I come to a halt in my story.

When I decided to publish this book, I intended to stimulate my memory as much as possible. I have always been known for my memory, and I'm certain that, even if it was a little shaky in most cases, it helped me retain the pages in hand. Do you believe I still memorize most of the anthems and poems I learned by heart more than 80 years ago when I was teaching elementary school? This is part of the mixture of memory and oblivion about which we both agreed.

I was born in the city of Unaizah, in a district known as Souk Al-Khninah. Our district is in the Souk Altomman neighborhood. The area is a depression that is always inundated by floods and rainwater in the winter, which may explain the name. My mother, may Allah have mercy on her, told me that she was pregnant with me at the time of the Battle of Sabilla which took place (347 AH) and that she didn't know how to escape from that battle because she was afraid for the life of her unborn child. Following that struggle, I grew up in a country that was both united and stable. Isn't it a stroke of good fortune and divine favor to be born and raised in a safe and secure country?...

I've always believed that having a strong and just ruler like King AbdulAziz - may Allah have mercy on him - during the time when I, all of my generations and subsequent generations were born and grew up across the kingdom, was a truly fortunate and divine blessing for everyone. I'm not going to try to look a year younger. Anyone who is the same age as me will not look any younger if he claims to be 94 or even 92 years old. My peers' births are documented and dated in the fifth year of Sha'ban (347AH), whereas I was born in 348 AH.

My father used to tell me about this very often. It may not seem important to you, but it is something special because it is the year in which I was born. I did not change the dates of birth in any document. But, when it comes to age, I have taken advantage of every opportunity to tell a colleague or a friend that I am actually one year younger than my official age.