My country Republic of Benin

I have lived in Republic of Benin for 30 years. I am Beninese. 

Porto-Novo is the capital and Cotonou is the seat of government. 

I traveled many times by car from Cotonou to Niamey (to visit my Dad) 1034 km, 643 miles, 13 hours non-stop trip.

Bénin, slightly smaller than the US state Pennsylvania, is a french speaking west African nation, birthplace of the vodun religion, home to the former Dahomey kingdom, from north to south, a long stretched country, situated east of Togo, west of Nigeria, it is bordered to the north by Burkina Faso and Niger, in south by the Bight of Benin.

Benin’s former name until 1975 was Dahomey.

People speak Fon and Yoruba and Hausa and Dendi.

The two ethnicities that now dominate southern Benin are the Adja and Fon, originated from Tado in Togo. 

According to Beninese lore ; the fon are descendants of a mystic couple : A Tado princess named Aligbonon and a spirit in the body of a panther. Their son, Agassou, founded the Fon. Agassou left tado for political reasons in the 16th century and settled to form the kingdom of Allada, based 40 kilometres north of present-day Cotonou.

The Dahomey kingdom became the dominant power in the region and extended its territory through impressive military warfare. Dahomey flourished because of direct involvement in the growing slave trade during the 18th and 19th centuries.

One key to Dahomey’s militia success was the kingdom possession of an elite militia of women warriors known as Mino, « our mothers’ in Fon » Most of whom were recruited from the king’s hundreds of wives called Ahosi, they were also the king’s personal body guards. The Mino earned their popularized name « Amazons » from the French legionnaires whom they thought.

Benin was a French colony, gained independence the 1stof August 1960 

Ran by Kerekou with his Marxist Leninist principles, and in 1989 finally free elections (the year I got married in the oasis)

In Benin, you can find zemidjan (motorcycle taxi) similar to a scooter ; zemidjans are unionized and wear yellow shirts with a registration number on the back. 

If you are a "yovo" you must negotiate the price otherwise you will pay more than a Beninese.

Yovo is the Fon word for "white person." This term can be extended to anyone who is not black, including Beninese people with lighter skin tones. 

In Niger the word for white person is Anasara and you can also hear it in Parakou, Kandi, Malanville (border between Benin and Niger)

There is a yovo song : "Yovo, Yovo, Bonsoir, Ca va bien ? Merci!"

In Cotonou, people gather at the Buvettes, typically an open air bar that sells beer, soft drinks, and bottled water.

In Cotonou, if you hear the word "doucement" (slowly) A Beninese-French word used for a variety of expressions : including, "watch out", "be careful" , "excuse me"

If you visit Cotonou, you must try the Maquis ; a casual, open-air restaurant, with a buvette or bar, serving local cuisine by the plate from large cauldrons and coolers.

And if you are invited to a wedding, you must stop by the market to buy a pagne ; a piece of fabric used as a simple wrap or tailored into traditional outfits.

If you want to visit Ganvié, a lake village in Lake Nokoué, you will use the pirogue ; a dugout canoe commonly made from Samba, iroko, or other local trees.

The most economically important product is cotton, which generates about 40% of Benin GDP. Other exports, palm oil, cashews, shea butter, livestock, seafood.

Benin has beautiful beaches, 

laggons in the south, vast savannas, hills, waterfalls in the north, thriving markets, rural settlements along the mighty Mono River to the west, you can go hippo-spotting on Lake Doukon, enjoy the palm-fringed beaches of Grand Popo, or float through the stilt lagoon community of Ganvié, hiking on the granite hills of the Central Collines region, the north offers animal safaris in the national parks, on the plains of the upper Atakora and Alibori regions.

Styled: Making Connections

You no longer need to choose between cute clothes and earth-friendly ones. 

You think about food waste, but what about clothing waste? Reduce your fashion footprint with eco-friendly duds that will last a lifetime!

Have you tried to chill'n in organic undies? To feel the snug in a puffer made using renewable energy! :)

Think of fabric, textiles...no toxic chemicals were used to give these organic fabric silk its vibrant colourful tints. Why? Because the color for the dye comes exclusively from natural sources: pine nuts, spinach, coffee, eucalyptus, onion skins, and chestnut. 

Okay, who's hungry?  :)

To ensure those who sewed your cozy pullover benefit from your purchase, opt for pieces that are Fair Trade Certified. The label behind the fleece worn sends a portion of your payment to the people who actually produced it. 

The result: services such as childcare, transportation programs, and health care for the factory workers. 

Think about it!

Do you want clothing made of materials that work as hard as you do? Look no further than Tencel, fibers made from sustainably sourced wood. A solid 99 percent of the water and non toxic solvents are recycled during production--plus it is super comfy. This fabric is highly breathable, ideal for activewear and warm temps.

Do you whatever you can yo make a difference.

Choosing fashion that's ecofriendly shouldn't stress you out. 

Adding to your wardrobe does not have to raise your heart rate either! 

Shop at thrift stores, rent clothing for special events, scope out recycled and organic materials, and reinvent old faves with tailoring.

Research labels' eco pledges and check out their emissions data on the Institute of Public and Environmental Affairs' site to support companies making strides. 

The more you prioritize doing good by the planet, the more the fashion industry will too!

Choose a label with purpose! Grant Blvd employs formerly incarcerated women and pays them fair wages. The screen prints are made from reclaimed clothes, which means zero water waste.

Look for creators who give vintage pieces a new life by combining multiple garments into one-eye-catching look, avoiding the waste that comes with starting from scratch.

Find your Tribe :)

Souvenirs and Poems

"When the earth is changed into a humid hideaway
Where hope, like a bat,
Flies around knocking the walls with its timid wings
The rotten ceilings with its head"
Baudelaire

Since I have started writing on my blog, words have been overflowing from me. I gather them and confide them to my blog posts. 

I talk to you on these blog posts. I spend with you my most beautiful hours. I ask you questions without shame and I tell you about my dreams.

My grandmother told me that the night her daughter was born, she was lying alone; no one was nearby to help her. She gave birth alone and cut the umbilical cord with her teeth. 

The next day, my grandmother pursued her usual tasks without any aid, by night as by day, combing the carpeted-sand-floor, gathering dates, caring for the house, cooking, grinding her grain, hauling water and carrying wood.

It was a summer day, with a leaden sun on a flat, dusty road, and she was still working very hard under the scorching sun.

This pearl
Was a gift of my grandmother 
That great lady
to my mother
and my mother gave it to me
And now I hand it on to you
The three of you and this pearl
Have one thing in common
simplicity and truth
I give it with my love
and with the fullness heart
you excel in

The girls of Arabia will soon grow
to full stature
They will look about and say:
"Salma has passed this road"
and point to the place of sunrise 
and the heart's direction. 

Fawziya Abu Khalid, "A Pearl" 

Knowing how to read and write is not knowledge, itself, but a door to knowledge we may enter, but if we leave it closed there is no way to reach knowledge.

My mother said, "At sixteen I was married...I was Illiterate." 

She told me that women of my generation were able through their knowledge, education and intelligence to stand on the same footing with men from all around the world.

History has proven that persons who have deprived the woman of her human rights in social, economic and political equality have paid a dear price. They have deprived society of half of its power and productivity.

They need to understand that woman is half of the society and that the liberation and release of the energies of every individual in society is important. It is the root of an enlightened nation. 

Men should remember this verse, "Ye, people fear your God who created all of you all from one soul". Indeed, All people come from a single origin, united in love and compassion.

I am optimistic by nature. In spite of the fundamentalist revival, we can also witness a revival of the progressive forces. We must go forward. 

As a writer, and as a feminist, I try to collect all kind or writings (personal letters, memoirs, speeches, fiction, and poetry) that not only challenge patriarchy, but also eloquently refute the myth of a monolithic western feminism. 

Oasis and Women and Me

Many people argued that some societies were  backward because women were backward, and women were backward because of lack of education and because of social constraints, such as seclusion. 

The majority of Arab lands in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were under Ottoman rule. However, as Ottoman sovereignty declined, European colonialism spread. Modern education was introduced differently to women and men, but not in our oasis. 

Modern education disturbed patriarchal patterns of control over women so many fathers did not send their girls to school. 

My great-grandmothers, my grandmothers, and my mother lived within the system which ordained the segregation of the sexes and women's seclusion in the home. Bedouin women living in the desert, however, could veil while grazing their flocks. 

With the rise of nationalism, the first feminists grounded their growing feminist consciousness in nationalism, but it happened only in the big cities, not in our oasis.

The new pan-Arab feminism was aiming to combat reactionary or conservative moves but the women in my oasis were all going back to the veil, back to the secluded house, back to the walled mud city...

However, there was a lively oral tradition and the women were the custodian of knowledge. Bedouin women in the oasis passed on tribal wisdom in stories they told their grandchildren. 

I am really concerned about the importance of this oral tradition and I shall try to collect as many folktales as I can because they are in danger of extinction. 

The landscape of my childhood represented four poles, four cultures, four different worlds and I liked all of them! 

Every summer spent in the oasis made me think that I was different. 

My parents sent me to school at the age of three and I attended the French school until the age of nineteen. 

I felt more and more different from my aunts, my mother, my cousins, my grandmothers: I was engaging myself in territories alien to them and I was being estranged. I felt more and more different, with frames of reference they could not share. I was becoming a foreigner in my own oasis.

My father respected learning to such a point that he did not interfere with matters of education. My grandfather and my grandmother and my mother were not happy about this situation. 

All they saw was that I was growing to be different from my cousins and it must have increased their sense of exile.

When I was young, I was incapable of describing my life: four poles, four cultures, four different worlds.

Although deprived of my parents homeland, I was living exactly like the people of my oasis. The home environment in which I was raised did not nourish an interest in the outside world. The women in my family left the house only on rare occasions such as family celebrations in the houses of relatives and close friends. 

Given the many prohibitions imposed on women, my journey through life was filled with emotional and intellectual struggles. I was not socially liberated and the patriarchal society created barriers to restrict me. 

I remember my wedding, the noise and the oasis bustle, the hennaed hands and feet, the whisper among the older women...so many customs and traditions that I did not understand! I was twenty-three years old.

At sixteen my mother was married to my father who was seventeen. At sixteen she was married to my father and moved from her father's house to the house of her husband. It was the custom then for a young bride to live with her in-laws. My grandmother assigned to each young women a day to be in charge of the cleaning and good order of the house. The sons worked in their father's business. The man alone had the right to dispose of the family fortune. He was responsible for the whole family.

Another custom in the oasis was for the daughter-in-law never to leave the house unless accompanied by her mother-in-law, and this only to weddings and funerals. 

I believe that in the oasis many suffer from loneliness. There is a kind of iron curtain between men and women and between the generations. The famous solidarity of which women were so proud during the fight for Independence, the national liberation struggle, are far away...Today, men and women are prisoners of their prejudices.

Where are all these women who were equal to men in the national liberation struggle and who shared decision-making both at the political and at the military levels? 

So much for Fanon's and others' myth of the Oasis woman liberated along with her country. 

Women like my mother remained in the kitchen, bound by the tradition while men had some access to modernity.

We need secular states. Let us dream of secular states. Let us dream of the separation of religion and state. All these silent women gave those in power the time to strengthen and organise and to enforce discriminatory laws against women.

However, this society of ours has become great in the embellishment of superficial appearance. 

Males of the oasis, why have you left these females behind for no reason? You deemed it best to separate yourselves in every way? Now look: upon whom does the blame accrue?

"Peace be on the one who follows God's guidance," said my grandmother. I told my grandmother that there was nothing modern about female empowerment in Islam. Muslim women are given an extremely high status in Islam from when it was revealed. We learn from when we were young that khadijah, the Prophet's wife, was so strong and independent. She took care of an entire business on her own and she rejected men who asked for her because they did not meet her standards. She chose who she wanted to marry and the Prophet was younger than her. 

Therefore, again the same question: Males of the oasis, why have you left women behind for no reason?

I have always been hostile towards the institution of polygamy. I have always stressed to the women in my oasis that Islam condoned multiple wives only when each received equal treatment, something the religion taught was nearly impossible. But most of the women, like my mother had never been to school: they cannot read the Quran, they cannot write, and they cannot analyse what they cannot read or use their critical thinking. 

Oh God, inspire the men of our government to do right because their injustice to women has many repercussions on every member of the society. 

Generations of women in my oasis have longed to participate in humanity along with men. The liberated woman is a person who believes that she is as human as a man. Since they are equally human they must have equal human rights.

The liberated woman believes that because she is human she may make mistakes. But her mistakes are no more evil than those of men, of course! There is not a male mistake that is forgiven and a female mistake that is not.

Mother! Your face comforts me as I wander through the roads of my exile! 

I have only my pen and in my loneliness, I remember the vow I made to my pen on the day I said goodbye to my mother in the oasis. The day she knew she would never go back to her house with us: she was divorced. 

The day of the departure, my grandmother patted my shoulder with her warm hand, and she said," Don't be scared, my child." 

I was as ignorant of the world as I am today of the hereafter. Behind every road is a person who emigrates. 

Remember Men of the oasis: "Do not take revenge on your women, Be gentle with them or leave them respectfully." 

Women refuse this hold on you. Women make your voice heard. 

Poetic Music

In the oasis, there is a poetic music called Ahalil which you can hear in formal or informal gatherings. 

Ahalil is a poetic music which is sometimes compared to the better known style of Sufi music. Ahalil poetic music praises the beauty of nature and women. 

Ahalil is also a form of religious praise. It is an oral record of regional heritage and a way of life for the people of the oasis. 

Ahalil means praise. The songs can be secular, recounting tales or histories of the oasis or devotional and religious poems. The origin of the music begins with wise men singing and reciting poems about the oasis culture.

Ahalil music is a key part of a way of life that has survived for centuries. There are many poems about water and the importance of foggaras.

Fresh water is necessary for all living beings and the oases are the results of an ingenious system of harvesting the limited underground water, through an ancient system of canals and wells, the foggaras. 

My grandfathers were part of an assembly callled the Djemaa. The people in this assembly managed equitably the foggaras. They took into account the domestic and irrigation needs of all the local inhabitants of the oasis. 

The tobol is a drum of skin stretched over a flat circular piece of wood that is made and beaten as a call to music by the artisan of the oasis. 

Nos Ancêtres

I have always wondered how my ancestors, who came all the way from Bilad al-Sham, through al-Hijaz, through Yemen, up to Tidikelt, up to Mali, up to Niger..., must have felt...

My ancestors, who were part of an Arab tribal group, came all the way from al-Hijaz and Bilad al-Sham to settle down in Tidikelt (Touat). 

In the 18th century, the oases of Touat, which still belonged to the realm of the rulers of Morocco, formed one of the main crossing points of the caravan routes of the Western Sahara and the Western Sudan.

For Timbuktu and the regions north and south of the Niger, Tidikelt (Touat) had become the most important gateway to North Africa, Egypt, and the Middle East.

My ancestors were peaceful Islamic scholarly leaders who settle down in Touat (Tidikelt) and they intensified the Arabization and Islamisation of the region. 

They were non-belligerent bearers of religious and literary learning. 

They became famous in other countries of the region for their religious learning and rigour as well as their Arabic literary skills.

My ancestors were part of the Touat caravans and they met many scholars from the Hausa Land and the Fulani region. 

Many people find it difficult to report only facts from this specific period because the colonized Desert is a great exaggerator and misinterpreter. It is very difficult to find only facts, to get correct news.

My father used to tell us that the oasis' ecological ills and ethnic stratification were rooted in its tumultuous history conditioned by political instability, a hostile environment, and the encroachment of European Imperialism.

My great-grandfathers came to be considered as the best agents of the merchants of Tidikelt, and caravans under their protection could safely travel from Touat to Timbuctu and Niger. 

They had restored the Mawlid celebration especial splendor. They used to stay awake all night listening to the nightly recital of poems (called Amdah) in praise of the Prophet, followed by religious recitations. A Talib chanted praises of the Prophet, with the crowd responding in unison. 

The ceremony to which people of all ranks and walks of life were admitted, took place in front of my great-grandfathers' house. The ceremony lasted till daybreak and was concluded with a banquet composed of couscous, dates, leben and lamb meat. 

My grandfather told us about his memories of Mawlid carols he and his cousins used to sing in the streets of the village, announcing the glad tidings of the Prophet's birth. 

They used to visit their friends and family on the morning of the Mawlid, sprinkling them with orange blossom water and receiving sweets in return.

The women dressed in their fine clothes, and adorned with kuhl and henna, would also visit their friends. All houses were brightly lit with petrol lamps and candles. 

Today, in every city, during the Mawlid, you can hear all night long children exploding firecrackers and girls applying henna to their hands and feet.

Huda Sha'rawi

I first heard of Huda Sha'rawi when I heard my Dad and my uncles talking about her during our traditional breakfast on the garden. 

My father said that Huda Sha'rawi had led the first feminist movement in Egypt early in the 20th century. 

I instantly became interested!

Huda Sha'rawi came into awareness that being born a female meant that she would live a different life. 

She started to understand the word patriarchy-that is, the power men had accorded themselves irrespective of class, to make rules and to impose their rules on women to keep them subordinate.

Huda Sha'rawi was born Nur al-Huda Sultan in 1879 at Minya in Upper Egypt on her father's vast estate. Huda was five years old when her father died. Upon the death of Sultan Pasha his sister's son Ali Sha'rawi had become the legual guardian of Huda and her brother, and the wakil, the agent or executor, of their late father's estate.

When Huda was thirteen, her mother arranged her betrothal to her cousin and guardian. At fourteen she separated from her husband and she returned to live under her family pressure.

When Huda was twenty-one, she started rebelling. She was deeply distressed by the preferential treatment given her brother, and the other males of her family, even questioning her own identity as a daughter.

One day, she asked her mother's co-wife why she was not able to raise her voice like her brother.

She replied: "One day the support of the family will fall upon him. When you marry you will leave the house and honor your husband's name but your brother will perpetuate the name of his father and take over his house. You understand now, Huda?"

Huda was not convinced so she decided to take action and she decided to change her world.

Huda Sha'rawi recounts how a woman poet who came periodically to stay in the family house did not suffer from the same limitations as women in the household. Huda said that the woman poet used to sit with the men and discuss literary and cultural matters. Huda said that observing this woman poet convinced her that, with education, with learning, women could be the equal of men if not surpass them.

At the age of forty,Sha'rawi took to the podium to commemorate Bahithat al-Badiyah, in what can only be called a feminist eulogy, to carry her mission.

Margot Badran described Sha'rawi's dictation of her memoirs as her "final unveiling" and her "final feminist act" in the preface of the English translation of the memoirs, Harem Years.

Indeed, Huda Sha'rawi is remembered and celebrated as the pioneer of Egypt's woman's movement and her efforts, partly through the publication of L'Egyptienne, shaped the ideal of the New Egyptian Woman.

The pages of L'Egyptienne give readers an understanding of early Egyptian feminism, articulating women's goals and hopes for the future.

Huda Sha'rawi (1879-1947), an active participant in the nationalist movement, founded a new organization in 1923, the Egyptian Feminist Union (EFU), as a forum for women's feminist demands. 

Aurep-Nordin, Elisabeth. “Les sourds-muets en Egypte.” L’Egyptienne 1, no. 6 (1925): 187-191. 

Badran, Margot. Feminists, Islam, and the Nation: Gender and the Making of Modern Egypt. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995. 

Baron, Beth. Egypt As A Woman: Nationalism, Gender, and Politics. Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press. 2005. --. 

The Women’s Awakening in Egypt: Culture, Society, and the Press. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994. 

“La Baronne von Kardoff.” L’Egyptienne 5, no. 49 (1929). 

“Bilan de l’année féministe de 1938.” 

L’Egyptienne 14, no. 151 (1939): 40-42. 

Booth, Marilyn. “The Egyptian Lives of Jeanne d’Arc.”

 In Remaking Women: Feminism and Modernity in the Middle East, edited by Lila Abu-Lughod, 171-199. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998. --.

World Population Day

On July 11th every year is an event known as World Population Day. You may not have heard of such a day before but it has been celebrated for almost three decades. 

The aim of this day is to focus the world’s attention on the importance of population issues.

On the 11th of July, World Population Day, we need to raise awareness about the sexual and reproductive health needs and vulnerabilities of women and girls. 

Teenage girls in Niger, and all over the world, face enormous challenges. Many are considered by their communities or parents to be ready for marriage and motherhood, despite the fact that they are still growing and are not prepared for the responsibility this social change would bring.

My country Niger is one of only 25 countries in the world with a GNI per capita below $2,100. More than half of the population lives on less that $1.90 a day. 

With over one-third of its population under 24 years of age, Niger has a young and growing population.

We need to help young girls in Niger-and in other African countries- reach maturity before they begin having children. 

My country Niger faces many challenges including low nutritional status, poor educational attainment, high unemployment, and increasing insecurity due to radical movements in the Sahel.

Our youth leaders need to understand that these challenges are not just present in Niger, but throughout Africa. 

The world's population is nearing 8 billion. That's not great news! How mind-bogglingly huge is that number? 

And the Sub-Saharan region is on track to overtake central and south Asia as most populous. 

The high fertility rates is incredible! In Niger, where women on average have seven children, the highest birth rate in the world, the population is projected to almost triple to 66m over the same time period. 

80% of Nigeriens live in Poverty. The landlocked nation is largely desert, less 20% of the land is arable, and that number is shrinking due to climate change. 

It the population is set to double in 17 years, it will drives poverty, famine, political instability, and violence. 

The Nigerien government needs and must turn to this solution: modern contraception.

But how to get women to use it?

Well, the Nigerien government needs to promote contraception in order to prevent a series of catastrophes-environmental, economic, and security. Women in Niger need to have smaller families.

Many women ask if the IUD might fall out, or if the implant might break in their arms. Therefore, the government needs to inform all these women about the different methods in their dialect.

Niger's population challenges are compounded by the prevalence of conservative clerics, who encourage followers to have as many children as possible. A large family size is a cultural ideal in Niger.

Political leaders worry more about being re-elected than about the future of the country. 

We need a strong campaign for girls education! If we want to bring change, we must encourage families to send young girls to school. If we keep girls in school, we will keep the community out of the cycle of poverty.

In 2008n Niger ranked 174 out of 178 countries on the Human Development Index, with more than 60% of its population living on less than US$1 per day. 

Therefore, the lack of education has clear implications for the overall development of the country. 

In August 2020, more than 12 million Nigériens and Nigériennes face serious food shortages. 

Niger and other African countries must live with past mistakes, but appropriately designed family planning programs could reduce the long-term impact of those mistakes. 

My Ancestors

In the Sahara, the foggara has played a leading role in the field of abstraction of groundwater distribution and sharing through formal and strict rules. 

Foggaras are tilted underground tunnels draining water from the water reserve to the fields of irrigation. The water flows downstream owing to gravity. It consists of a series of wells 3-12 m apart and a tunnel 50-80 cm wide and 90-150 cm high. 

Foggaras are still functional in my oasis and are used to irrigate oases like Touat and Tidikelt group oases. 

My ancestors, the caravaneers, developed their own Trans-Saharan Trade. The traditional commercial routes represented by the caravans transporting dates, salt, tea, and cereals from the north in exchange for the groundnuts of the south, were indeed a long journey across the Sahara Desert. 

Date palm tree is the symbol of our oasis. It has had great role and outstanding cultural value in my family's life, both as individuals and as a society. My family get their food and even medicine from it. 

There was a strong relationship between my family and palm tree. My grandfathers, my uncles, my cousins, took care of irrigating and providing its soil with organic fertilizer. 

My family used to prepare a special kind of dates called Batna. To make Batna, you have to, first of all, clean up with fresh water the dates to eliminate dust and other appeared dirt as the rest of insects and the bird excrement. This step must be repeated many times until enhancing soft dates. They used hot water to soften dried date, then dates are mixed for accelerating softness. In the end, they obtained a paste of date which was kept into an old goatskin. 

The Batna is preserved for months and it was used when needed; for example, when there is a shortage of date in the market or on feasts or other religious occasions such as Ramadan.

Unlike most palms, the Date Palm is dioecious, meaning each plant is either male or female. Only female plants produce fruit, provided there is a male plant nearby. In order for its fruits to mature, it requires high temperatures and generous amounts of water. 

It is certain that the date palm was cultivated as early as 4000 B.C. since it was used for the construction of the moon god near Ur in Southern Iraq- Mesopotamia (Popenoe, 1913; 1973).

Date fruit is called a mine in itself because it is very rich in minerals. Its phosphorous content is similar to that found in the same quantity of apricots, pears and grapes put together. 

Its high content of magnesium could also be very beneficial. Date consumers in my oasis are known to have the lowest rate of cancer diseases, a fact attributed to the magnesium found in dates. 

Around the oasis, the children and I have discovered many prehistoric caves and rock paintings. These archeological remains have shed light on what life was like in the once-green Sahara. 

We also found bits of pottery which suggests that about 7,000 years ago, ancient herders raised livestock and harvested plants in what now is an arid desert.

Oasis: the Great Desert memories

The foggara is a well-known traditional hydraulic system. 

We used to spent our summer holidays in our grandparents' oasis, in the middle of the Sahara desert, in the most arid zone of the world. The men of the family sped their Land Rovers across the Sahara desert, from Niamey (Niger) to the hottest place of the Tidikelt, my grandfather and grandmother oasis. The men of the family knew the trick to sand travel: maintain as fast a speed as is safely possible, and do not slow down!

All we could see, (we, the children, the mothers sitting on the back of the Land Rover, sitting on carpets, sitting on the top of our suitcases, on mattresses), was the top of the dune bouncing around above the hot, pulsating horizon. 

At the entrance of the oasis, the three Land Rovers entered the city gate and proceeded down the sandy road to the house of my grandparents. We could see the strip of sun-bleached palms which had welcomed nomads for hundred years, for they meant water. Our oasis had been one of the stopping points for caravans that crossed the Sahara desert, caravans which carried salt, fabrics, rugs, green tea, and henna.

I remembered Ibn Battuta words, "The Caravan prepared to enter the great desert, in which there is neither water, bird, nor tree; but only sand and hills of sand, which are so blown about by the wind, that no vestige of a road remains among them." 

Arrival time; the males of the family went to the guest house, and the females went their separate ways, to the women side of the house, each lost in his or her own world of thought. 

We were all looking for a bucket of water because the call to evening prayer echoed through the oasis from the minaret. We all needed to do our ablutions before the prayer. 

It goes without saying that water and development are two sides of the same coin. From the beginning of time, water has played a fulcrum role in where societies migrated and settled and how they interacted. 

The climate in the Tidikelt region is hyper-arid. This climate is classified as a subtropical desert (low latitude desert), with a subtropical desert biozone. 

We used to spend every summer holiday in our grandparents oasis during the hottest month, which was July: the temperature in July is 49° Celcius !!!! The precipitation range is 0 !

The temperature is so hot! We had no electricity, no piped water supply! We had to walk five times a day, under the blazing sun, to fetch fresh water from the closest seguia. The water comes from the foggara to the seguia. 

The foggara is a traditional hydraulic system that we can find in our oasis. The technique consists of catching groundwater through a gently inclined tunnel, ventilated by successive shafts, so that water outlets to the surface to irrigate the downstream soil.

In Wind, Water and Stars, Antoine de Saint-Exupery said: 
Water, you have no taste, no colour, no scent
one cannot describe you, 
but only enjoys you without knowing you 
You are not something that is needed for life; you are life itself 
your fulfillment of the sense of happiness,
 that, cannot be explained by senses only. 
With you all the powers from 
which we have distinct counsels come back to us. 
You are the most precious wealth in the world 
and yet you are the most fragile one. 
So pure, emerge from the womb of the earth. 

When I first visited the foggara, I felt "the sense of happiness that cannot be explained by senses only": a fishy, musty, earthy smell, a salty flavor, a metallic taste

Water flowing over long distances, from the foggara to the seguia, results in gradual sedimentation of suspended matter, and therefore self-purification. As Saint-Exupery said, "so pure, emerge from the womb of the earth." 

"You are the most precious wealth in the world." Indeed, water is a substance  (H 2 0) in gas, liquid and solid form; it is an agent, a source of life and death, a transformative force, water can be an entity, an idea, a source of power and wealth, of misery and woes, or inspiration and joy.

Then, the rest of the day we stay indoors; And the rest of the day, I read, I read before the coming of the night...

The night under the white glare of the kerosene lamps, the air gets filled with smoke, on the roof-terrace, we cannot read! We can only read during the day. 

When the darkness falls, we sleep on the roof-terrace, lit by kerosene lamps, in a white cloud of kitchen fumes, under the sky of a desert oasis, with huddled figures, sleeping in the horizon. 

The ones who are not sleeping, well they are smoking, gossiping and drinking mint tea, behind the walls which look blind and forbidding, walls that are built with mud and stones, with small square holes for windows, on the rooftops which are flat, walls crumbling, dust and dust, desert sand, desert dunes.

My cousin brought a silver tray on which sat a teapot of sweet fresh mint tea and plates of peanuts and dates. Holding the teapot high, she poured the tea into crystal glasses. I took a sip of tea and looked at the sky.

The eerie darkness of the night on the rooftop would never escape my memory. I clearly remember the pitch-black curtain draped over the sky, and stars, beautiful blinking fairy lights in the night sky, sequin-silver stars, shining like a glowing light bulb, surreal blanket above our heads, a million spangled glimmers of hope pierced through the black curtain draped over the sky, stars which look like the eyes of angels in the distant darkness, and the moon under siege by stars seemed to also lighten the night bringing forth these stars that shone and hung in the blackness of the sky.

The morning came. My grandmother was sitting on her mattress, on the floor covered with sand, preparing the homemade bread that we would eat later on with honey and butter. My grandmother used to tell us this bedouin proverb, "He who shares my bread and salt is not my enemy." 

All the houses on the oasis consisted of a dusty cluster of houses made of mud, all painted red, and with roofs and doors made of palm fronds, each surrounded by a red-painted mud wall.

Live, Love, Laugh And Celebrate

Perhaps it is a bit of cliché to call life a rollercoaster, but it is also very true in the time we live in!

Indeed in life there are high points and there are low points. Sometimes, scary, Sometimes funny.

Life is unpredictable just like a roller coaster but for an optimist it is awesome.

I am an optimistic person. I am always disposed to take a favorable view of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome. 

But every now and then I feel the desire to just unplug. Unplugging for just one day a week gives my brain the chance to reboot. 

Starting the day with myself, turning off the news, reading, exploring a new part of my neighborhood, writting on my blog; there are all easy ways to start unplugging

We need to set clear boundaries with our time and communication. 

When we unplug, time slows down and our senses grow sharper.

It is very important to unplug, to take a moment to be thankful for the opportunities that I have had during the day, the week, the month, the year...

Through my 30s, the culture of multitasking was revered. There was this overwhelming sense that the more things you could do at one time, the better you were! I realize that it is not true! I never feel like I am nailing anything when I am trying to do it all!

The antidote to doing too many things at once, is of course to only do one thing at a time. :) And the old adage that anything worth doing is worth doing well, is still as true as it ever was. 

Practice this all day long: whether working or playing, gently remind yourself, One thing at a time!

I am a self-proclaimed optimist! I am confident that I shall navigate life's ups and downs successfully. 

I have always felt my best when I feel liberated from things that were holding me back.

I make mistakes all the time. But I never get upset over my mistakes. We need to turn our mistakes into valuable life lessons. In order to do that, we need to think positively about our mistakes.

I am a half-full sort of person. Positive thinking is not magic and it will not make all of our problems disappear. But positive thinking will make our problems seem more manageable and positive thinking will help us approach hardships in a more productive way.

Stephen Hawking said, "One of the basic rules of the universe is that nothing is perfect. Perfection simply doesn't exist...Without imperfection, neither you nor I would exist."

Indeed, life is not meant to be lived perfectly. There is nothing wrong with making mistakes, but of course one should not repeat the same mistake!!! :) You should always make NEW ONES  :)

Remember, To Err is Human

We need to allow our children to try and fail. Protecting your children from failure is not helpful! It is natural for parents to want to protect their chidren from disappointment, but believe me doing so can lower their self-esteem and set them up for more difficulty in the future.

We need to give feedback and guidance rather than answers. We need to ask questions that help our children reflect on what they want, who they are, what they care about, how they feel, and what they should do as a result.

Remember, failure can be a great teacher! But when you allow your child to fail, you have to make sure that there is time for feedback and reflection. A discussion is needed about what went wrong and how it can be fixed.

A good rule of thumb is to let your children fail when they have a good shot at learning from it and getting better at problem-solving the next time.

I have seen my two boys playing many video games. I have noticed that when my children played video games, they explored each level through trial and error. They naturally corrected their mistakes each time until they got to the end of the video game. They understood that failing does not mean it is over; it just m eans they can do better.

Let your children fail. It is good for them. 

Try to develop a healthier relationship with failure yourself, and your children will take notice!

Have a great Wednesday! I wish you a happy new month! May the coming month of July bring all the happiness and pleasure for you and your family and friends.