Think Forward.

Les Soupirs d'Azemmour 2116

Allant vers Oualidia, histoire de profiter de sa belle lagune, de ses huitres et poissons, ma fille, mon épouse et moi-même décidâmes de faire une petite halte à Azemmour. Je m’étais promis d’y amener ma fille à la première occasion qui se présente. Nous sommes ici à une encablure de Casablanca, à une poignée de kilomètres d’El-Jadida et non loin de Jorf Lasfar, une fierté de l’industrialisation du Maroc moderne. J’ai personnellement un petit quelque chose pour cette ville. Rares sont les villes aussi envoutantes. Je ne puis m’expliquer pourquoi. Très vite vous y êtes tantôt berbère en Jellaba courte, tchamir et babouches à la tête arrondie ou pointue ; tantôt phénicien drapé de blanc un peu comme s’habillaient les grecs en leur temps de gloire ; tantôt portant la toge d’un citoyen romain fier ou le turban bleu d’un Berghouata rugueux. Vous y imaginez des portugais chantant leur triomphe à la prise de la ville. Vous y entendez, le bruit de vos pas sur un pavé vieilli, évoquant celui de l’armée Saadienne reprenant possession des remparts. Le bruit et vociférations des soldats y résonnent encore et toujours ; mais en silence. Au tournant d’une ruelle de la cité antique, vous entendez la voix lointaine et confuse de Sidi Abderahman El Mejdoub, criant sa douleur devant le mal, questionnant le monde et l’univers. Au tourant de l’autre vous interpelle la voix chuchotant, à peine perceptible, de Rabbi Abraham Moul Ness et ses prières à l’aube et au crépuscule. Sidi Brahim pour les musulmans…les deux religions peinent à se donner des frontières ici… D’ailleurs c’est une sorte de miracle qui révéla aux deux communautés qu’Abraham était bien un saint…Les citoyens venaient d’installer un moulin juste en face de la grotte où il passait son temps à méditer et prier…Les bêtes qui faisaient tourner le moulin tombaient vite malades et mourraient l’une après l’autre. On comprit alors qu’Abraham ne voulait pas être dérangé dans sa méditation…depuis il est Rabbi Abraham pour les juifs, Sidi Brahim pour les musulmans, saint pour les deux. Plus loin dans la ville, ce sont des jeunes plutôt silencieux, à l’air certainement soucieux, le regard cafardeux, qui vous font face au tournant d’une ruelle. Certains de ceux qui vous croisent ont le regard étonnamment hagard, comme pour exprimer une lassitude ou un dégout ; peut-être même une colère profonde et des blessures répétées. Au coin de la rue d’en face, sur une petite place difforme c’est le son saccadé d’un métier à tisser qui vous interpelle. L’un des rares Deraz encore en activité tisse comme chaque jour des écharpes et des foulards en laine ou en soie…Les touristes aiment ça mais ne viennent pas souvent… Il ne se lasse pas. Il travaille, aime beaucoup son métier et attend des jours meilleurs ou tout au moins que la guerre au moyen orient s’arrête… Au fond de lui, il doit souhaiter que ses amis israéliens reviennent à la raison et chassent vite du pouvoir leurs dirigeants actuels ; des névrosés assoiffés de sang plus qu’autre chose. Il attend le Moussem mais ne sait pas si les marocains juifs qui reviennent annuellement pour le pèlerinage seraient encore nombreux. La maison de l’artisan est silencieuse et attend aussi… Elle attend souvent qu’un petit groupe passe par là pour enfin s’animer un petit peu, pour une heure ou deux. Les maitres artisans qui y séjournent semblent plutôt regarder filer le temps. Leurs yeux sont nostalgiques d’un passé proche sans doute idéalisé et d’un passé plus lointain chargé de richesse et de puissance à jamais révolu. Une dame d’un âge certain, sans gêne aucune, vêtue d’un pyjama qui en a vu des vertes et des pas mûres, est là devant chez elle sur un tabouret, assise. La porte de sa modeste demeure peinte en bleu est grande ouverte. La dame déborde un peu la petite dimension de son tabouret. Son regard est vide. Elle ne remarque pas nos silhouettes et semble ne pas entendre nos pas involontairement légers, comme pour ne pas déranger l’histoire ou remuer la colère des murs abandonnés, des maisons aux portes murées, celles que le temps a abattues et celles qui attendent passivement le signal de la dégringolade de pierres millénaires fatiguées et qui ne tiennent plus à rien. Derrière des portes d’antan de quelques bâtisses encore debout - et il y en encore beaucoup Dieu merci - et quelques maisons non encore fermées aux cadenas ou tombées dans l’oubli des temps et des humains, on devine des jeunes filles s’affairer à la broderie. Elles ne sont plus très nombreuses à éprouver une passion pour cet art ancestral spécifique à la ville avec ses couleurs vives et ses dragons. Que font les dragons ici sinon rappeler un passé si lointain qu’on n’en perçoit pas le fond. Par oui dire certaines disent que c’est un marchand portugais qui introduisit cet art entre les murs de la ville. Au coin d’une petite place, comme il y en beaucoup dans la cité, devant une épicerie aussi petite que peu soignée, se tiennent des jeunes oisifs. L’un d’eux ressemble forcément à Mustapha Azemmouri, celui dit Esteban le Maure ou encore Estevanico. Peut être même qu’il en porte les gênes. Sans Estevanico, jamais l’Amérique du Nord n’aurait été ce qu’elle est aujourd’hui. Quelle destinée! Partir d’une telle contrée pour aller déterminer l’histoire d’une autre de l’autre côté de l’Atlantique. En sortant par l’une des portes de la cité ancienne vous avez une seule pensée : Azemmour se cherche un présent qui ne vient pas. Elle agonise et se meurt assurément. Peut-être même qu’elle est déjà morte. Voilà quelques temps Karim Boukhari, dans un article en disait : « J’ai visité Azemmour. Un ami, originaire de la ville, m’a prévenu : attention, m’a-t-il dit, c’est une ville morte. » Pour s’en apercevoir faites une balade au pied de la muraille coté oued. Une esplanade que mon ami Zaki Semlali a aménagé avec le peu de moyens dont il dispose pour redonner vie à cette relation particulière qu’a la ville avec Oum Rebi3. Aujourd’hui le plastique y est hélas plus abondant que les poissons. Finies l'alose et les belles ombrines charnues… Certains pans de la muraille et des habitations coulent vers l’oued comme des larmes de la peine subie. La nostalgique Azemmour lorgne l’Atlantique et regarde impuissante se fracasser les vagues au loin… J’implore le tout puissant pour que ce bout de notre histoire précieuse puisse enfin bénéficier de l’attention de nos gouvernants. Ma fille, mon épouse et moi-même sommes repartis tristes, blessés au plus profond de nos âmes mais la voix sublime de Sanaa Marahati chantant quelques poèmes écrits quelque part dans la cité nous fait croire à un avenir meilleur pour Azemmour.
youtu.be/T4BIRCsXQWs?si=BUG42ZIT...
Aziz Daouda

Aziz Daouda

Directeur Technique et du Développement de la Confédération Africaine d'Athlétisme. Passionné du Maroc, passionné d'Afrique. Concerné par ce qui se passe, formulant mon point de vue quand j'en ai un. Humaniste, j'essaye de l'être, humain je veux l'être. Mon histoire est intimement liée à l'athlétisme marocain et mondial. J'ai eu le privilège de participer à la gloire de mon pays .


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Between Ideology and Pragmatism: The Spanish Radical Left's Controversial Stance on Moroccan Sahara... 74

I confess here that it was the writings of Si Lahcen Hadad that pushed me to take a closer interest in this Spanish left, which positions itself in opposition to the Sánchez government, which is itself left-wing. Not reading Spanish, I am therefore somewhat less inclined to pay attention to the repeated ignominies of this left, sick from not being able to access power, sick from its aborted history, sick from what it actually is. So, to exist, it invented a cause. Too bad if it understands nothing about it, too bad if it harms Spain’s interests, too bad if it distorts history, ignores geography and demography, too bad if its reasoning, if it is reasoning at all, is far from logical, too bad if it lies outrageously. The important thing is to exist and to appear to the Spanish public as the defender of the causes of the most deprived... No matter if those people harmed the Spanish people; no matter if they have Spanish blood on their hands. Manifest bad faith. In Spain, therefore, a significant part of the radical left, mainly represented by formations such as Unidas Podemos, an alliance between Podemos, Izquierda Unida, and other minority groups, maintains a posture—let’s say critical, if not belligerent—towards the Kingdom of Morocco. This contradictory position is fed by a historical prism marked by colonial memory, “anti-imperialist” struggles, but also by the question of the Sahara, called the "Spanish Sahara" until 1975, as it was a former territory under Spanish domination until the Green March in 1975. This radical left considers Morocco a belligerent and threatening actor. The debate is not limited to territorial disputes: it fits into an ideological vision where the Moroccan state is often presented as an authoritarian and repressive regime, described as a neocolonial power. This is what underpins the repeated support for the artificial Sahrawi cause, presented as an anti-colonial and anti-imperialist fight. Support for the Polisario Front thus seems embedded in the DNA of these “gauchos,” regardless of developments. Historically, several components of the Spanish left have expressed clear support for the Polisario Front, founded in 1973, which was nevertheless supported by Gaddafi, then hosted, supplied, and armed by the Algerian regime with the aim of harming Morocco’s interests. This support manifests itself in various forms: - Filing parliamentary motions in defense of the right to self-determination for this small part of the Sahara alone; - Participation in international pro-Polisario forums and associative networks that blindly support it, regardless of reports on the embezzlement of aid, rapes, and flagrant human rights abuses in Tindouf; - Pressure on the Spanish government and European institutions to recognize the political status of the Sahara, neglecting to mention that it was formerly occupied by their country, as a territory to be decolonized, in opposition to Morocco’s historical sovereignty. Even the autonomy proposal, well known in Spain, does not seem to satisfy them. However, it should be noted that this support comes in a context of strong internal contestation in Spain. Since the socialist government of Pedro Sánchez expressed its support in 2022 for the Moroccan autonomy plan, this radical position has somewhat fractured. This change reflects a pragmatic adaptation by some to the geopolitical, economic, and migratory realities that closely link the two countries. Faced with challenges related to managing migratory flows through the occupied enclaves of Ceuta and Melilla, as well as security and economic cooperation with the Kingdom of Morocco, the Spanish government has refocused its diplomacy. This has led to a gradual distancing of the left—but not the radical left—from the Polisario, thus marginalizing its influence on official policy. In this context, some voices within the radical left still try to persuade European institutions to keep pressure on Morocco, demanding that the so-called Western Sahara remain central to priorities to resolve an “unresolved colonial conflict.” Parliamentary groups and “pro-Sahrawi” NGOs continue to denounce bilateral agreements between Madrid and Rabat, refusing that the issue be sidelined in favor of a more “pragmatic” diplomacy. Spanish and European institutions, the theater of these ideological tensions, thus see the radical left forces seeking to have the question of the so-called Western Sahara recognized as a “state matter.” They denounce Moroccan control over this dossier and strongly contest the diplomatic normalization policies carried out by Madrid. This line reflects a deep political fracture, where post-colonial idealism and outdated self-determination claims clash head-on with political realism marked by the search for regional strategic balances. Support for the so-called Sahrawi cause is not without controversy. Activists, commentators, and victims have recalled that the Polisario Front was, in the past, involved in violent operations in Spanish territorial waters, causing the death of Spanish fishermen. These painful episodes resonate in Spanish public opinion and fuel a virulent critique of radical positions that support a movement with a past combining political struggle and violent actions. This memory weighs heavily in contemporary debate and is exploited by political forces opposed to these radical left positions, notably the Spanish right. The question of the Sahara, a territory that was Spanish for a time, remains an important point in relations between Spain and Morocco. However, current political, economic, and security realities push for pragmatic Spanish diplomacy, favorable to strengthened cooperation with Rabat, thus marginalizing the radical stance on both governmental and international stages. The historical legacy is here perfectly exploited for contemporary necessities in managing Ibero-Moroccan relations. Today, after consulting numerous articles and writings recounting the positions of this left of another era, I understand a little better Si Lahcen Hadad's fight on the subject, and even more so his sharp responses to the remarks of a certain Ignacio Cembrero, whom I now see only as a bland neurotic. Thank you, Si Lahcen. One question remains: why is the Moroccan left not more inclined to take a stand and strongly denounce the alienated stance of their Spanish counterparts?

Theurgy 285

Theurgy (Greek: θεουργία, theourgía, “divine work”) is the sacred art of invoking and communing with the divine through ritual acts, moral purification, and contemplative discipline. Emerging from the spiritual philosophy of late Neoplatonism, especially as formulated by Iamblichus (c. 250–325 CE), theurgy is distinguished from other forms of magic by its noble ideal - the soul’s ascension and union (ἕνωσις, henosis) with the divine source. Unlike goetia, which seeks to manipulate material outcomes, theurgy is fundamentally initiatory and redemptive. It engages the practitioner in a disciplined ascent through the metaphysical hierarchy of existence, beginning in the sensory world and leading toward the transcendent unity of the One. This ascent is made possible through divine grace and ritual participation in the cosmic order. The theurgist operates within a universe conceived as a great chain of being (σειρά, seira), extending from the indescribable source through the divine intellect (νοῦς, nous), the soul (ψυχή, psyche), and the celestial intelligences, down to the elements of the material world. Through sacred rites, one may ascend these levels of reality by re-establishing communion between the soul and its divine archetype. At the heart of theurgical practice lies the invocation of spiritual intelligences—gods, archangels, planetary powers, and cosmic intermediaries—through symbolic actions, sacred statements, and hieratical rituals. These acts are not merely symbolic or theatrical, but sacramental: they are performed to align human activity with the divine will and to reflect the eternal order of the cosmos within the temporal world. Iamblichus stressed that such union with the gods could not be attained through philosophical reasoning alone. Rather, one must engage in ritual action using sacred symbols, divine names, and purificatory rites to render the soul receptive to the divine presence. The practice of theurgy was closely tied to philosophical ethics and interior purification. The theurgist was expected to live a disciplined life, cultivating virtue, moderation, and piety. This internal preparation was as crucial as the external rite, for the soul must be made capable of bearing divine illumination. Through repeated engagement with divine acts, the practitioner refines the spiritual vehicle and becomes gradually elevated to recognize the higher realities without distortion. Historically, theurgy developed as a synthesis of Platonic metaphysics, Chaldean oracles, Egyptian temple rituals, and mystery initiations. While rooted in the classical world, its influence extended into the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Figures such as Marsilio Ficino and Giordano Bruno drew heavily on theurgical principles in their Hermetic and Neoplatonic revivals. In modern esotericism, especially within orders such as the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, theurgical ideas persist under the structure of ritual magic, planetary invocations, and Qabalistic ascent. The ultimate goal of the theurgist is apotheosis—not in the sense of personal glorification, but in the restoration of the soul to its divine pattern, beyond all individuation. As Iamblichus declares in his treatise On the Mysteries: “Theurgy unites us to the gods, not through thought, but through divine acts.” In this sense, theurgy is not merely a practice, but a sacred path—a divine remembrance enacted through the body, soul, and spirit, leading the practitioner not toward mastery of the world, but toward reintegration with the divine fullness (πλήρωμα, pleroma) from which all emanates.

Morocco, History, and Geography: The Foundations of Political Reality and Territorial Integrity... 470

Politics cannot be separated from history or geography. It consists of a set of actions and decisions aimed at organizing a society internally, as well as in its relations with the rest of the world. It is always situated within a context shaped by the two fundamental dimensions of history and geography, which are by no means mere backdrops but rather provide the framework within which political projects, conflicts, and developments unfold. Politics may be influenced by an ideology—born of a philosophy—or simply shaped by a given context, but such influence rarely lasts. History plays a fundamental role in understanding political phenomena. A country’s institutions, laws, and values are rooted in its collective memory, an inheritance made up of major events, breaks, or continuities with the past. Borders, for example, are often drawn following wars or treaties, the outcome of ancient or recent conflicts. They remain visible marks of past rivalries, defeats, victories, and compromises. Relations—whether of solidarity or rivalry—between nations, regions, or communities are explained in light of shared or divergent histories. The present Kingdom of Morocco cannot be understood without reference to its millennial origins, to the centuries-old Sharifian Empire, nor to the successive dynasties that shaped its relationship to religion, allegiance, and the centralization of power throughout different eras. Similarly, geography significantly influences the choices and constraints of public policies. The distribution of natural resources conditions economic development, territorial organization, and power relations. Relief, climate, and access to maritime routes determine possibilities for urbanization, agriculture, communication, and defense. Border situations impose specific diplomatic and security policies, while landlocked or insular areas require tailored strategies. Some authors even describe Morocco as an “island country” due to its geographical configuration. It is therefore inconceivable to conceive of effective or legitimate politics without taking history and geography into account. Every choice, reform, or political ambition must be based on a deep understanding of the territory and collective memory; ignoring one or the other exposes one to illusion, misunderstanding, or even failure. Regarding the Sahara, referred to as the “Western Sahara,” the geography of this region is undeniably contiguous to Morocco, physically, demographically, and historically: the Saharan populations have largely contributed to the country’s evolution. Its history was written through the successive allegiances of its tribes to the sultans of Morocco, and the Sharifian kingdom thus constitutes a nation-state established long before the contemporary era. Weakened by having missed the crucial turn of the industrial revolution, the Sharifian Empire was dissected from south to north, but also from the east. The so-called Western Sahara was annexed by Spain, which exercised colonial control there from 1884 to 1975. This situation facilitated France’s domination over territories grouped into French West Africa, part of which later became Mauritania. France also appropriated the eastern part of the Sharifian Empire, annexed de facto to its departments conquered from the Ottoman Empire and called French Algeria. The remainder was placed under French protectorate, while northern Morocco came under Spanish rule. Independence, achieved in 1956, and the gradual decolonization of Sidi Ifni and Tarfaya concerned other regions only later. On November 28, 1960, France authorized the proclamation of Mauritania’s independence—a region then claimed by Morocco, as were territories under Spanish control that Morocco considered its own. At that time, there was a Moroccan ministry called the “Ministry of Mauritanian and Saharan Affairs,” headed by Mohammed Fal Ould Oumeir, a representative of those territories. From 1963 onwards, the kingdom raised the issue of the Spanish Sahara before the Decolonization Commission. The situation became complicated when newly created Mauritania also claimed the territory, notably to pressure Morocco, which did not recognize Mauritanian independence until 1969—nine years after its proclamation. Morocco continued to claim the Spanish Sahara peacefully, preventing the Liberation Army from pursuing military actions in the region. In 1973, the creation of the Polisario Front (Popular Front for the Liberation of Saguia el-Hamra and Rio de Oro) marked a new stage. This movement initially aimed to unite the Saharan territory with the “motherland.” But in a context of regional rivalries and ideological tensions, the Saharan question was instrumentalized by various actors. Muammar Gaddafi’s Libya played a decisive role in the rise of the separatist Polisario, supporting and arming the movement in a "revolutionary" and pan-Arabist logic, while seeking to destabilize the Moroccan monarchy. Later, Gaddafi himself admitted having made a “strategic mistake” in backing this group, which remains a destabilizing factor in the region today. In 1975, a peaceful turning point occurred: bolstered by the International Court of Justice’s opinion recognizing ties of allegiance between Saharan tribes and Moroccan sultans, the late King Hassan II launched the Green March to general surprise. This mobilization pushed Spain to withdraw from Laâyoune in favor of Morocco, which immediately reclaimed the territory. Mauritania, although having occupied adjacent zones, ultimately withdrew, leaving Morocco alone against the Polisario Front, actively supported by Algeria, which hosted, armed, financed, and elevated the movement into a “republic.” Houari Boumédiène’s Algeria exploited the situation to weaken its Moroccan neighbor, even calling the Saharan issue a “thorn in Morocco’s side,” a way of exacting revenge for the crushing defeat in 1963. This dispute has often overshadowed the deep history of ties between Morocco and these territories under Sharifian authority well before the colonial era. For Morocco, territorial integrity rests firmly on the constants of history and geography—major arguments. The rest is merely a temporary construction without foundation, destined to fade into oblivion in the near future. Moroccans know this very well… Perhaps not everyone else…

Ahmed Faras: The Eternal Legend of Moroccan Football 701

I have been fortunate enough to know Ahmed Faras. It is unbearable for me to speak of him in the past tense, someone who has been part of my life for so long. It had been ages since he last touched a ball. Few are still alive who saw him play, those who, match after match, would await his dribble, his runs down the wing, his shot, his goal. Faras was an outstanding man, with an incredible shyness and reserve. Even when present somewhere, he was always on the sidelines: discreet, courteous, kind, with deep sensitivity, affection, and great touchiness. But Faras will always be part of the present. He is a true legend of Moroccan and African football; legends never die. Fedala saw him born in the cold of December 1947. Mohammedia would be his city and Chabab his eternal club. At the time, there was no such thing as a transfer market, no migrations, no football mercenary spirit. You were born in a club, learned to play there, and you stayed. His temperament was not that of a typical striker: there was no aggressiveness, no cunning. He compensated with his genius and never needed to dive or roll on the ground to sway a referee or create confusion. His genius spared him all that. He was an exceptional striker who marked the history of Moroccan and continental football. The turf at El Bachir football stadium helped him, at that time, it was the best in Morocco. Ahmed Faras was the product of a generation shaped by the structured environment of the youth sports schools run by the Ministry of Youth and Sports, a system supposedly dismantled by so-called administrative and political reforms. Yet, it was there that Morocco's champions were formed, across all sports. His early path was marked by the guidance of renowned trainers such as Lakhmiri, who helped shape numerous Moroccan talents. This solid foundation allowed him to develop technical skills and a sense of teamwork very early on, which would become hallmarks of his play. Ahmed Faras spent his entire career at Chabab Mohammedia, from 1965 to 1982, never having a professional contract—such things didn’t exist in Morocco then. There’s no need to mention signing bonuses or performance awards, even with the national team. His loyalty to Chabab is remarkable. He would lead the club to a Moroccan championship and become its top scorer. He would bring along with him his playing friends—Acila, Glaoua, Haddadi, and many more. Faras was a pillar of the Moroccan national team. With 36 goals in 94 caps, what a historic scorer for the Atlas Lions! He captained the national team for eight years, playing in the 1970 World Cup in Mexico and the 1972 Munich Olympic Games. In 1975, Ahmed Faras entered the legend by becoming the first Moroccan to win the African Ballon d’Or, an award that underlined the quality and consistency of his play. This distinction placed him among the greatest players on the continent, competing with the top African stars of his era. There was talk of a transfer to Real Madrid...but at the time Moroccan league players were barred from moving abroad under penalty of losing their place in the national team. The idea was, thus, to strengthen the domestic league... The peak of his career was surely the 1976 Africa Cup of Nations (CAN), won by Morocco in Ethiopia. Faras was the leader on the pitch, the tournament’s top scorer, and his influence was decisive for this historic triumph—the only major African title that Morocco has ever won. He scored crucial goals against Nigeria and Egypt in that tournament, perfectly embodying the role of playmaker and team leader on the field. To this day, he remains the only Moroccan captain ever to lift the coveted African trophy. I have been a few times to that ground in Addis Ababa where he lifted the trophy, and every time, his image dominates my thoughts. An indelible black-and-white, forever etched in the history of the Kingdom and in the memory of Moroccans who followed the match at the time through the voice of one Ahmed Elgharbi...no live broadcasts back then. He was a respected and heeded captain, guided by great coaches: Abdelkader Lakhmiri, Blagoe Vidinic, Abdellah Settati, Jabrane, and especially Gheorghe Mardarescu during that epic campaign in the land of Emperor Haile Selassie. His charisma and vision of the game were crucial in unifying the team and leading them to the summit of African football. Faras embodied the spirit of conquest and national pride throughout the tournament. The squad was selected and led by an outstanding manager as well Colonel Mehdi Belmejdoub. His name is forever bound to that legendary achievement, a symbol of the potential of Moroccan football when guided by exemplary leadership, committed and knowledgeable managers, and players who were true warriors for their jersey’s colors. Ahmed Faras was not just a talented player. After his retirement, he continued to share his passion, getting involved in youth training, passing on his knowledge and love for the game to the new generation. He has been a source of inspiration for so many generations of players. Knowing Lhaj Ahmed Faras meant knowing a symbol of loyalty, talent, and unique leadership in Moroccan sports. His name will forever remain inscribed in collective memory as that of a football giant, whose legacy goes beyond sport to inspire entire generations. Rest in peace, my friend. One day, a great football stadium in this country will bear your name, and it will be fitting, if the players follow your example, honor your career, and if the public rises to your greatness, paying tribute to your distinguished name. So Lhaj Ahmed Faras, if you ever meet Acila up there, ask him to give you another nice pass, and tell Glaoua to defend well... Know that your star shines and will always shine above us in the sky of the beautiful country you cherished so much. ---