Several days have passed since the anniversary of my uncle's departure, who was my beloved and my role model, the great writer Salah Montaser. Of course, these are just dates, and for me, it felt like hours of a long day filled with tears, the day of his death.

Far be it from us to object to His divine decree; it is a short journey, as he would always tell me, and we have to fulfill our duty and deliver the message to the best of our ability.

His death day was filled with loved ones, and I felt his happiness when his body exited the Al-Ahram building where he had devoted his life, as if it was bidding him farewell. The enormity of the situation was great for us and my father. Since his childhood, he would come with his brother to spend a whole day at Al-Ahram with his wife Nadia Abdel Hamid, the distinguished journalist, God rest her soul. This was my father's delight, and he would kindly tell all these stories to those around him while he cried in front of the body of his brother, who was 15 years his senior and was like a father to him.

Amira Montaser with her uncle, the late writer Salah Montaser

My uncle never left my mind or my thoughts. How could he when his journalistic genes run in my blood, as he always used to tell me? The first thing I did was decide to write a book about Mohamed Fawzi, as he always asked me to do, because he was a fan of his art. I was thrilled when I presented the book to one of the top liver doctors, and he said to me after reading the book, "Now I can say that Professor Salah Montaser didn't die because his successor didn't die." I was overjoyed and flew with happiness, knowing I would be a memory of my uncle whenever someone sees and prays for him.

In his life, as soon as I entered Al-Ahram, I decided to abide by all the rules so as not to put him in an embarrassing situation. I remember always refusing to ask him to request anything from anyone, no matter their position. I would be over the moon when I went to interview an eminent figure, and at the end of the interview, I would introduce myself as the niece of the writer, Professor Salah Montaser. I would then go to my uncle's office to find him smiling, greeting me with a hug, and telling me that the person I interviewed had called him to thank him and say that I was a classy and diligent journalist. I felt at that moment as if I held the stars in my hand.

We are proud that the state decided to designate his house as a monument that can be visited. Of course, he will not be forgotten, and I am currently writing a book about him about all the stages of his life from its inception, on a family level, his life, and his struggles with his beloved first wife who endured her suffering, and he carried her for several years without complaining, as if she were his daughter. He always wished that she would live even if he had to carry her all his life. May God have mercy on both of them. I will convey many memories on the pages of the book, and not only that, but I am also working hard to implement his long-standing request, a museum that collects all the writings of journalists, in order to preserve their efforts and to chronicle their journalistic work as well. God willing, this project will see the light, in honor of him and his life, which he devoted to journalism. God rest the soul of the great writer Salah Montaser.