I told my little brother that our mother died I told him without mercy or pity ......

I told my little brother that our mother died I told him without mercy or pity ...... 

I am a child from the worst of the forgotten Essaouira. I was only 11 years old, the daughter of a martyr woman who was not shot dead. She was not martyred in a sudden air raid. I am the daughter of Shahida, the bare bread.

I write these letters, and I hope they resonate, and often I think they will not reach, and will not resonate any wind, the important I will write, I will say some of the daily suffering that I have, the letters sometimes Balsam Shafi, and sometimes just my rhymes ...
My little brother weeps a lot, crying has not become his eyelids, so that his eyes red .. Keep repeating .. Bread ...! bread...! I try to distract him from the idea of ​​bread, to wipe the word bread from his soft brain, bite me in the hand with a force that is angry, agitated like a mad dog, I want bread ...! I want bread...! A woman told my mother from the circle that one of the benefactors would come tomorrow. He would bring a lot of bread with him. We would eat bread if the bellies filled up to saturate. My brother would stop crying.
- What if he did not come with a lot of bread .. ?? My mother says he will come with plenty of bread.
- If not enough ... ??
Many other benefactors will visit us with bread.
- Where they come from bread .. ??
from the city...
- What city is ... ???
A land where many people have a lot of bread.
- Why do not we live in the city like other people ... ??
Because we are very poor, poor people like us do not live in cities.
- Is not the city poor ... ??
However, the urban poor differ from the poor in our village ...
- As they disagree .. ??
The city's poor get bread easily and our poor do not get it as easily ...
- Why are we poor ... ?? when..?? Could not we be rich .. ??
Because God wants it ...
- Does God want to live poor hungry .. ?? Is God pleased with this ... ??
These are the questions of infidelity and my intention. When you grow up, you will understand everything. Remember that God loves us. Remember that, I feel hungry ...

My brother finally grew very weepy, covered with a blanket stuffed with burgundy. My mother said that her neighbor told her after I heard on the radio that maybe tonight it was raining. My father, an old man of seventy years old, sat on his wooden chair beside the house, waving his crutches into the air. The doctor who visited our village at the beginning of last summer told him that the cancer had ruined his lungs and that he would no doubt die soon. At most, he did not stay in his life for less than a month. So the doctor said, two months have passed and he is dead. A living district ..
Dinner is rotten rice, the taste of rice mixed with the taste of insects, the hunger of the son of the bitch makes you careless, grew beside my brother, hugged me in the lap, the flea swirling around his neck, my mother carried my father to his bed, carried by the pigeon, the poor is lighter than the whole bake, Darkness, when extinguished, stops speech ...

-May the king really have many cities, you told me that is valid .. Is it true .. ?? Or the words of imagination ... ??
Yes, my daughter is right ...
- Where do you live ... ??
in the palace...
- What is the palace how it looks like .. ??
A vast house with no limit .. like paradise ..
- Is there a lot of bread ..
Yes, there is a lot of bread.
- Is it true that what is rumored to be responsible for us .. ??
Of course my daughter, since he is king, is responsible.
- Do you know about our situation is heard by .. ??
Of course...
- Does he love us as is the case with God .. ??
Yes he loves us ..
- Do not send us our bread if .. ?? Because he has a lot of bread and we are empty of our intestines ... ??
I do not know...??
- Does he love us ... ??
I do not know..

The candle will soon be extinguished, but I'm about to go out, maybe it's raining tonight, I'll go early in the morning to make bread for you, I may be a little late. Take care of your brother. My last wish is for you to care for your brother ...

I told my little brother that my mother had died, I told him without mercy or pity, I want bread .. My mother went to her husband Machia, and she came back on her shoulders. ! So he answered me ..