II

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He was here before me. Well before me.

He was born in the countryside around Béni Mellal two years after my parents’ marriage. Their first child! A boy!

Family life started auspiciously. A boy, whenever he arrives, is a good sign, synonymous with good fortune, wealth, happiness.

He was the first born, indisputably the oldest child. M’Barka and Mohamed didn’t hesitate long in picking out afirst name for him: Abdelkébir. The servant of the Almighty!They knew, deep inside, that they would quickly have otherchildren, other servants, but that this one would always bespecial in their eyes, the symbol of their family, of theirfuture, their name kept alive for years to come.

Thanks to Abdelkébir, my mother, once and for all, acquired a legitimate place within the large Taïa family.

My father decided to celebrate this birth. Now he would really change his life, his days and his nights would no longerbe the same. From now on, a new light would brighten hisworld in a thrilling, exciting, happy way.

A celebration, yes, a big celebration was in order.

At that time, Mohamed was still living at home with his parents, with his sister Massouda, who would never marry,and with his older brother El-Bouhali, who had been marrieda long time himself. El-Bouhali had not yet turned againsthim. Later on, he would disown my father by claiming, purelyand simply, that they didn’t have the same father, thatMohamed, conceived in sin, had no right to any inheritance.El-Bouhali would keep everything for himself Mohamedwould find himself with nothing. For the time being, a certainunity reigned in the household. All of them were still more orless young and money wasn’t their main obsession. All thatmattered to them was pleasure, the pleasure of living, ofmaking love, of eating. The pleasure of just being here, ableto be happy together. Pleasure as principle, pleasure as guide.

M’Barka invited her whole village to this celebration. Everyone joined her to celebrate this new beginning in life.Only the family of her first husband, the one killed in thewar, the family that had taken custody of her daughter Aminawhen she remarried, didn’t show up, but that didn’t surpriseher. M’Barka had to invite them anyway. Fights betweenfamily clans, she had suffered from them for too long. Overflowing with joy, with optimism, she wanted to reconcilewith everybody at this celebration. She forgot the bad thingspeople had done to her. She tried to forget how easily andwithout remorse people do bad things. Obviously she wasdeluding herself. One person’s happiness does not necessarilymake someone else happy.