It’s been almost two years that I didnt see it again, that I didn’t see my village.
The gigantic, arid and hunchbacked landscapes, where a few cacti appear, the smell of the hot and sandy wind, the sleepless nights playing music on the roof, the giggles with my cousins and my aunts, the animals, in particular the sheep who look me straight in the eyes and the hens who hide when I arrive, the stony paths, the water wells that make us move 3 meters away because we are afraid of falling into them, the Koran sessions at the sun rise…
It is this disturbing heat which takes me and which signals me, it’s good you are there, you are at the exact place where your ancestors lived, this family village where everyone knows you and where you don’t know anyone .
This village that I particularly love, where my ancestors were buried and where I see ancestral traditions in me, makes me dream.
I hope this health crisis will fade away and I hope to return to it soon.
And you ? do you miss your tamazight?
Tamazight = means village in Berber, when a Berber speaks of a Tamazight, he does not necessarily mean a Berber village, he speaks of a native village which can also be in England, China or Senegal.