هالة ⋆⋆

twa7chtek bledi. twa7chtek baba. twa7chtek mama.

Five days after my baba passed away we left for Morocco to bury him here. My last duty as your daughter. My brother and my family had to take care of many bureaucratic things and never I've felt more hopeless. I’d never wanted to come back to lbled for this but I stayed here, I'm taking my time. I’m walking these streets without you. I try to find you in every corner. What can people know about this country that I don't already know thanks to you. And that I care deeply because you taught me so. Because I have lived through yours and mama’s and our people’s struggle and I grew up with it and I will never underestimate it. I will never underestimate your dignity and the dignity of my people. I know who I am. that semi-adult who's mourning where you belong. I spend my days up to the highest villages on the mountains there were you were born, and then down to see the mediterranean sea again, like you did. With our family. with my cousins, who're cheering me up, who take me to trips around, who make me sing along with them. In my country, destroyed, suffering, always mourning like me, but fierce, strong, full of love to give like you gave me. I think this is the last time I will be back to Morocco for a long while, I think I won't be able to do it again soon. Tomorrow I'm leaving lbled and I'm leaving you both. You belong to this place and you gave me the chance to belong to somewhere else too. I'm taking you both with me.

in my heart

في أي مكان، وأي زمان تلقى ديما معايا ريحة البلاد

My mama and baba in Morocco on the day of their wedding. They had no money and all you see in this pic is second handed clothes and borrowed jewellery, a whole community who came together to ensure a great day to the newlywed couple. I was born twelve years after this picture. twelve years of suffering, migration, wondering. twelve years of poverty and struggles to give us life and security and love. That's how I imagine them right now in Jannah.

It's so cruel. After the diagnosis, after the surgery, after bouncing back with some hope in the last 6 months. I had to see you worsening in the span of hours for fulminant lung failure. And only few of us knew how you weakened you've been the past month. Because we respect life, because we respect dignity. It's our culture, you always said. We don't have to complain. Sixteen hours. that's how long it took to take you away from me. I write this now because I won't be able to do it ever again. I don't know what to do. I'm shaking, I'm devastated. I have no words left I'm just devastated.

You are now reunited with mama in Jannah and I will be reunited with you one day Inchallah.

I love you Baba habibi. May your gentle soul find peace.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji3on.

عندما رحلت كنت أخبر زوايا الغرفة أنك ستعود يوما ما وكنت أجوب الأحلام ليلا بحتا عنك ولا أتلاقى سوى مع خيالك وكنت أجمع الأحزان لأخيط منها فستانا لعلك تلمحنى به وكنت أرتب الأحاديت الوهميه التى سأقولها لك عندما نلتقى كنت أتحسس ملمس يدك التى بقت عالقة فينى وكنت أدرف الدموع حتى جفت على وسادتى كنت أفيض على تلك الصفحات وكنت أتخيل جميع الأماكن الصغيرة .التى كانت لنا ولا أجد سواي أراك ترحل دون حيلة لى

He made a song where he references Palestine where he sings: "how can you say everything is fine down here, where in order to trace borders with imaginary lines you bomb an hospital, for a piece of land or for a piece of bread there is no peace" . He also did a medley, singing also in arabic for the first time in the history of the festival.

Last night, during the final, he ended his performance asking to "stop the genocide!" I don't have to tell you that there's absolutely nothing pro-Palestine on italian media... and he used the biggest stage he could use to say that.

Today on a tv programme he was accused by the Isra*li ambassador of spreading hate and violence, to which he replied with those words in the following video (credits to the person who translated it here):

The italian TV broadcaster quickly posted a press release to distance themselves from this speech and to reiterate their whole support to Isr*el lol Towards the end of this tv programme, a few hours after Ghali said what you can hear in this video, they read the press release out loud. This is how Isra*li propaganda works everywhere, thanks to the complicity of our governments.

He was born in the 1950s, right before the independence, in a village of around 100 people 3 kms from Fes. 7th of 14 kids (!) My grandfather was called up to arms for France in WWII, he was illiterate and didn't know french. Came back heavily depressed and unable to work. My baba went to school only for 3 years. They slept in the same room. No electricity. Sheep stable next room.

First he was a sheepdog, then a farm land, then went to tangier to be employed in a hotel for the bored rich western bourgeois in the late 60s. There he met all those kind of people - musicians, painters, writers. I mean it was the 60s. Taught himself french. Educated himself properly. Befriended a french painter from Marseille who used to tell him he was intelligent and loaned him novels. He started to read whatever. He started to get angry at the government and corruption there. He even got in touch with a group of german radical leftists. (not joking!). He met my mama in the mid 80s. She was a migrant in Tangier looking for jobs. They got married - still broke af. My mama could barely write her name down. He thought her how to write. She got pregnant but had an abortion because they literally got laughed at the hospital. Either you pay or you can might as well die in morocco. So my baba took the decision: safi. enough. 13 siblings, almost all of them had left: 4 in France, 3 in the Netherlands, 1 in Spain, 3 in Italy. My brother and I were born 10 and 13 years after my mama's abortion, that long it took them to trust life again.

My baba reads the newspaper every day. His favourite song is Le Métèque by Georges Moustaki bc it's about a migrant from greece who travels the world. He listens to a lot of old moroccan and french stuffs. He reads. He worked in a factory here and always had to bow his head at a bunch of fucking italian rich entrepreneurs who thought they knew everything about this world (they didn't). Always with a smile on the face.

No, he said, not just that, but "because I can be critical about Morocco". The way I smiled y'all. Smiled in pain. I guess when you're in the diaspora the reasons why you are the in the diaspora are in front of you. What is it? That I love Morocco but I know it's corrupted to the core? That I love Morocco but the government is made of bunch of greedy criminals? That I love Morocco but I can't stand seeing health-care being privatised more and more? That I love Morocco but their relations to Israel make my blood boils? That they don't give shit about poor people? Do you think we're all oblivious or.

Also you know why I'm here and not in Morocco. I'm the daughter of a man who did it all to survive, a shepherd, a merchant (which is also the reason I can't stand chel-sea fans calling hakim a merchant, i'm reporting you. not funny). My parents couldn't go to school. They got married in 1984 and their first born, the brother I'll never meet, was born dead. An infant who would be alive now if he was born in Europe. And my baba always tells me: that's the moment I knew we had to leave. No food, no money, and not enough rich to pay corrupted doctors to do their job because that's how it works. So my baba starved himself and my mama didn't want kids for a long while, not in Morocco. My older brother was born here 11 (ELEVEN) years later. That's how much it took them to overcome trauma and shit. And yet, my baba never complained about Morocco once (most out of respect to my mama, I feel) and my mama died missing home. I owe my opinions to them, even if they don't know. They were poor and gave me everything.

So I guess I'm not the "typical" Moroccan to u but fuck you for saying that. Fuck you for thinking there are not people who raise their voice, both in bled and in the diaspora. Fuck for thinking criticism only belong to white "educated people". cause spoiler: it does not. Criticism belong to US. Revolution belong to people and it starts from the people, not certainly from you sitting in front of me with your drink, your degree and your white privilege in Italy.