Jalal Kendali writes .. My Settat

Jalal Kendali / Journalist for the Socialist Union

My country, as it were, and will remain in my heart forever.

As I wandered through its streets, alleys and places, including those whose characteristics were changed by force or voluntarily, I was attracted to nostalgia for days gone by, as if it were yesterday. It really sharpened my memory and made me more black and more let enchant. white and color photographs, faces and names that contributed to the formation of our early consciousness, situations and anecdotes. As if it happened yesterday, photos made me feel our virgin sincerity, as well as our innocent demonization, which we teamed up to translate into comic situations as our traps lay for our comrades, reminding us that the years and decades that have passed , is nothing but a psychological distance, we fold it almost with one click and less At a glance, as we browse and follow what is written about the capital of Chaouia, with great love and longing.

Settat, our collective roof for all his children and lovers, each of us surely has the same conviction and faith. Settat is our umbrella that protects and protects us from the temptation of betrayal, and our home that hides us when fear creeps in. our hearts, after going out to the battlefield of life, we only carry hearts full of love with the rest of us before we love ourselves as we were educated to do so.

Settat is more and bigger than a city and buildings, and of alleys, streets and cafes, big and elevated, with its good people, including those who drive us crazy of Bukha and Boukeren, who are loved by all the other “parents” in every generation, for Mustafa al-Sisi she is a charming woman in the sense in which witches are described in Beginnings, can read the prophecy in the darkness of the unknown, and decipher the mysteries and wanderings, so that the direction and the kiss always remain , all the air we breathe outside his bosom is not worth our lungs, believe me, I always feel oppression out there, so I tried to stay away from it against my will, and when his attraction pulls me, I taste his taste. swears that his smell is unique and no one is like it.I find myself opening the car window, and in my childish behavior I create the air as if it were a water bottle, and shout in my voice, “My country’s state. I always confront them by saying, no matter how a person travels to any country, even to the moon or Mars, he will always not forget his birthplace and passion, and quoting the poet’s words moves you heart where you want from passion, love is only for the first lover, with how many houses on earth is the boy known And she never longs for the first house.

In Settat, we played soccer in a hurry, and I remember how a team from Dallas, I was one of its defenders, drew that same Ramadan at Al Hamri Stadium with another team that most of the Al- Nahda players played rugby, Khaled Ragheb and others, in Settat we folded many kilometers with our legs as we ran to the forest, in Settat we played karate, and mastered the chain game – I still like it today – then we fell in love with Presley, without thinking for a moment about bullying others.

In Settat, the dream was the beginning of a dream, a dream of a better tomorrow for all mankind. These values ​​have been implanted in us by our teachers who have taught us and they are many, among them my teacher Si Bagdad at La Arousia School and Professor Moussaoui in the same middle school who embodies for us the characters of “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo, and how we followed his explanation. In the language of Molière and his personification of these characters it is as if we have the eternity of the sword of Yazan and the story of Antarah bin Shaddad and his beloved Abla or “the humiliation and the ghoul” and Sabra and Hadidan to Harami and others popular stories that incited us to imagination instead of diagnosis, and really contributed. to expand our imagination.

Also at Al-Razi High School, where our riots increased, and we created a “Darari and Doriat gang”, whose mission is to complete pranks in the students of Ibn Abbad High School, and how we used to “Laghashmin” of us hunted. colleagues, and we ask them to buy us a “missile” from the owner of a shop next to Al-Razi High School, who could not bear to hear this name, before proving to himself with his crutch has, and often our prophet, the naive, suffers multiple injuries.

And how the deceased Ismaili, may God have mercy on him, in his capacity as general guard, interfered between students and teachers if there was a misunderstanding between them, and how we were stubborn towards each other and strive to contribute the best of what we write and describe as poetry on the wallboard at the time, and how we brag about our “creativity” when our colleagues interact with it especially The schoolgirls, “the day led us, we did not lead.” For you know for sure that you will rise up among your friends, and all will turn to you to help them write reckless love letters, and how many times have we been martyrs and partners in battles, many of whom have fallen victim to friendly fire .

There are other schools, in which we learned a lot.We learned while participating in the film club, which brought together all the intellectuals of the city of Settat, how to read the picture in all its dimensions, and in the youth center we learned the meaning of citizenship, self-denial and volunteering Saeed Samali, may God have mercy on him, how he framed us in the youth home, and how he opened his library for us to draw from the most important books, and I remember that the last book I read from his closet a poetry book was that you have the jinn, and he explained to us how love led this crazy poet to burn his girlfriend to make her a glass of wine, After others stories, tales and memories born in the womb of us all, the womb of a city called Settat.

Leave a Comment