Tindouf Testament
"Mbarka teaches Hassaniya poetry in Tindouf's camps. When linguist Omar arrives documenting refugee languages, she shows him that words can build nations. 'El kalma tmayyed' (الكلمة تمايد) - Words sustain."
Tindouf's camps held a nation waiting—Sahrawi refugees keeping culture alive through words.
"Hassaniya documentation?" Omar requested.
"El lugha ma tetdocumentch." Language can't be documented. "Tet'aych."
Mbarka taught poetry in canvas classrooms—verses that held history, rhythm that held hope.
"How do you preserve?"
"El kalma tmayyed."
"Words sustain?"
"El kalma tbni."
Words build.
She was substantial—voice that carried across camps, body that held displacement with dignity.
"Refugees since when?"
"Ma n'addch el waqt."
"Decades—"
"El watan ma yet'addch."
Days of recording taught him. Omar heard poetry that defied exile.
"This about longing?"
"Longing w hope w return."
"How do you hope still?"
"El kalma tmayyed."
"Words keep you alive?"
"El kalma hiya el watan."
Night brought private recitations—love poetry, resistance poetry, dreams in verse.
"Hadi l'watan."
"For the homeland?"
"L'koul watan."
For every homeland.
"Mbarka..."
"El sh'er qalli."
"Poetry told you?"
"Yqoul you understand exile."
She kissed him in borrowed land.
"Hada..."
"El kalma el jadida."
She undressed in tent privacy, her curves homelands.
"Mashallah," he breathed.
"El ard," she said. "Ana ard bla hudoud."
He read her like learning languages—finding roots, building vocabulary.
"Omar," she moaned.
"Hna." He found her poetry. "El bait."
She spoke beneath him, pleasure versified.
"Dkhol," she gasped. "El qasida."
He entered her poem, and understood what language meant.
"El kalma tmayyed," she cried.
"Fina."
Their rhythm was recitation—building, repeating, remembering.
"Qrib," she warned.
"M'aya." He wrote into her. "El kalma tmayyed."
They sustained together, pleasure poetic. Omar held her through the verses.
"El documentation?" she asked.
"Partnership."
"Wach hada?"
"Your words, my platform."
His project amplified Sahrawi voices—poetry reaching everywhere, language building solidarity.
"El approach?" academics asked.
"El kalma tmayyed."
Now he teaches beside her, learning what recording misses.
"El linguist w el sha'ira," they say.
"El kalma jab'tna," Mbarka smiles.
"El kalma tkhallina," Omar adds.
Some words outlast camps.