Oasis Memories

The thing that I remember as the oldest my memory has retained is the seguia. We used to walk five times a day to get water from the seguia. The closest seguia was 2 kilometres from my grandparents' house.

The oasis was located in a valley at the foot of a rift, so it was below the level of the underground source. My ancestors used blocks of stone, clay and straw to make a cementing mix in order to construct the foggaras. The palm trunks were used to consolidate the underground galleries. The foggaras allowed for the passive transport of water, relying only on the force of gravity.

The water was captured underground and and flows under the earth, which prevented its evaporation, until it was close to the oasis where it flows into an open-air canal called the seguia.

A small triangular basin called the quasri collected water that arrived at our oasis by the way of the seguia.

My grandfather and the rest of the men of the oasis used to set up a water assembly where decisions were made on who would receive how much water. The water deciders were responsible for the distribution of the water.

The home environment in which I was raised did not nourish an interest in the outside world.

Our house was in red clay which contrasted with bright green of the oasis and the goldish of dunes. Open doors lead through winding passages into small courtyards and rooms with floors covered in sand. 

I remember my mother was sitting on a mattress on the floor covered in sand and I was sitting next to her. I was drawing pictures on the sand. It was an important day! It was my brother naming ceremony. 

Naming ceremonies take place seven days after a child is born, on the day when the child's name is chosen, often in the presence of the Imam, and publicly announced. 

The day was an important day and all my aunts and cousins were preparing the lavish meal which was offered to the family and friends. 

The women of the family were dancing and singing and all the women who were invited left presents of money with my baby brother. 

I used to like to sit next to my elder cousin whom I admired a lot. She used to bring books to me and I would spend most of my days reading them and rereading them. 

My cousin used to tell me how proud she was of Algeria; the champion of the liberation of Africa, the champion of socialism. I considered my cousin to be a liberated woman. She used to tell me that only our diplomas would set us free. 

My grandfather heard one day one of our discussions about women's education and freedom and renaissance. He became very upset and he shouted "education is an evil colonialism brought!"

My mother had never been to school. She could not read. She could not write. But she was eager to see me succeed in school and to become independent one day.

Indeed my cousin was right! we do not want condescension, we want respect. Men should replace condescension with respect. Good education means helping people respect themselves and others. 

Veiling should not prevent our women from gaining an education nor cause their health to deteriorate. Women should excel in education and sports.

I, the daughter of three continents, consider myself lucky to have been able to witness the birth of the "invisible feminism" that circulated in our oasis. 

My mother's generation was composed of all these females who couldn't hold their pens and write about the injustices which they had witnessed in their societies. 

These women remained secluded behind clay walls, inside rooms covered with sand, not able to attend assemblies of men, not participating in debates, not participating in public life, not able to use their voices. 

If women are backward because of a lack of education, the society will remain backward. 

Dalila al-Zaituni wrote: "My life is a desert, a fence...oppression, Where is the light, the day?"

Awareness 
Change has begun.