vendredi, juin 04, 2010


He left us on Sunday June 4th, 2006 at age of 50.

I remember each detail of that long day.

Early in the morning, my mother comes to wake me up: ***** your father does not feel ok. Come sit close to him and let's see what can we do.

In fact since my father was sick, we had never been alone at home. People come, stay and go by alternation: my grand parents, my aunt, my cousins, my father's cousins, my uncles, friends, doctors, ....

He ordered to read the Holy Coran at home daily. Even minutes before he dies, the "méddéb" was reading verses from the Coran, next to his head.

When he died, our home becomes like a beehive. Too many people that I know and I do not know, family members and friends. Those who were abroad telephoned. Actually, our telephone did not stop ringing and emails came from the four corners of the world.

I could not cry....I have tried to stay strong before my mom, sister and brothers. But I took few moments from time to time where I cried inside the W.C. before washing my face and keep receiving condolences.

The family decided to burry him the same day but there was a controversy over in which cimetry to burry him?

When they asked me, I replied: "I have already taken my decision: my father will be burried in the cimetry which is close to our home, at less than 3 km, near the archeological site where he was born and lived his childhood. There is no way to burry him in the family's cimetry which is about 20 km from us."

My father's uncle and ceratin members of the family contested this choice, but, to me, decision is taken and we shall proceed with the funeral arrangment and procession.

The most painful moment was when I have been called with my brothers to salute my father for the last time.I can hear until now how women started crying and screaming when I entered the room to kiss my father's front and salute him. My mother and my sister were sitting next to him.

Four years now, and we always believe that he is at his work and will be back for lunch or dinner.