When i was a child in our village there was no elecricity no tv , we got light from candles, i made my studies by these candles. gloomy house,my father who came tired after a long day in the fields,lie near my mother who sat down and started preparing tea,tea is the famous and popular drink in all morocco,tea ceremony is very sacred in our region.where as we the childreen me and my brother and my two young sisters we glue our bodies to the walls and kept gaze at each other ,no word should be uttered in the presence of my father or we would anger him and we suffer the aftermath of his anger.my father is starnge man, i twas my life puzzle,he was harsh, he was the lion at home.during my childhood i considered our home as a synonym to the hell.my mother in contrast to my fother she was very kind woman and very silent till the extent that her silence hurted me, i felt pity for her,i knew that behind her silence there is a deep suffering and deep sadness.i could not dare ask her at that age.i knew that my mther made great sacrifices for the sake of us.at that time , i had a dream, which was to grow up quickly to be able to stop that war , to stop the injustice in our house. Our refuge was the street and the moments we passed with other childreen of the village.we kept playing our games and our toys are created and produced by us the childreen, we created all kinds of toys,guns of wood, bicycles of wires and other toys.we kept playing at this time it is the heaven ,at this time we forget every thing but enjoying our time.but sometimes this time is disturbed by the coming of the fathering,whot thought that playing is just a waste of time and a a cause of dispute between childreen,the relation between father and us is just like the relation of the cat and the mouse. When the fall of the night we changed our games ,we gathered in some closed corner ,we kept telling stories,tales,jokes,puzzles.the space of darkness and silence make imagination work very well, the listener became the maker of the charatcters, the place of the tale.when we know that it is the time of the coming of fathers we run towards our homes.
With time ,we grow up and my father become weak,i started to become the judge and the counsellar ,also i started to make critics to my father policies,i defend the right of my young brother and sisters right to talk and express them selves,with time such democratic atmosphere started to take place and my father started to feel dishappy,he find his refugy to go out and spend most his time his friends.
Nowdays ; every thing changed with the coming of electricity and tv,most childreen keep in front of tv rather than to go play with other childreen,childreen no longer in need to make their toys,chinese toys are in very cheap prices. After long years of driness ,the relations between women become rare thanks to Tv ,women divide their time between preparing meals and and watching tv.

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Comment by silvana on April 1, 2009 at 6:51pm

oh wonderful!!!
second episode of moroccan soap opera!
it's becoming more and more a fascinating story!
you could write an episode every week....
if i can suggest: something about tourists you met in childhood...you told something in the first writing. i think that describing them through the eyes of a child could be funny!
lots of love
sil
Comment by susan chandel on April 1, 2009 at 12:53am
Omar I enjoy reading your stories on 15,000 stories, thank you so much. I love people and like to learn about their experiences and cultures. You paint a good picture with youyr words of what it was like.

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