Acacia ou un Arbre sous la dune

Funny, isn't it! That it took me twenty years to realize I was a daughter of Africa, with all that entails: the love of the dunes, the crumbling stones, the flowers that resist the sea spray and the drought, and finally the sea, which, though it may look like others, is unique in the world... to me.

This sensation of body and soul at the sight of one's country through the porthole...

This feeling of being back in one's element...

This swelling of the heart before such a familiar landscape...

This overflowing tear from an inexplicable surplus of joy...

This is the country where I was born!

I love it, and only at that moment do I feel the heartbreak of my elders.

Carrying Algerian roots, denied, close to suffocation...

... and a "sanitary" journey to retrieve "the Tree" who would prefer to die in a falsely promised land.

A young woman meeting her grandmother and her own lost identity...

... through characters, landscapes, scents, anecdotal and moving memories.