Par aboulahab, CDJM, 1/3/2011
Vous voulez les misérables secourus, moi je veux la misère supprimée.
[V. Hugo]
Fadoua was not a heroine, she has done nothing in his life that deserves to be reported. For Fadoua conducted this kind of banal life miserable, which could continue to resemble those of millions more to die one day, a victim of lack of beds or medical personnel in a public hospital.
Fadoua surely had a TV in this kind of construction it was called medieval house. She certainly looked the national chains, where it refers to length of day advances in economic development and social progress unencrypted, for which no one was consulted. Need I remind irregularities, known by all, inherent in such projects in the greatest country in the world?
While Makhzen was busy enriching to beat the Moroccans free to orchestrate the media propaganda that nobody believes Fadoua would patiently wait his turn, a charity that will come one day to chance on the goodwill of indescribable responsible, or I do not know what other royal visit.
I never known poverty. No sooner have I seen. This persistent state of hunger, the future uncertain, for fear that illness or calamity that won the little family savings. And yet, have you ever tried to get treatment in a public hospital? Have you ever had a legal aid lawyer to defend yourself an injustice in a court of justice at bay? Even with the money he needed, even with the connections it takes, the Moroccan hardly find a proper school for her children, a clinic with physicians to treat, and the work of justice is often reduced to a battle of pots of wine and pistons. Sad reality.
Fadoua wanted a decent roof. Perhaps a first step to feeling a little bit safe, maybe she had plans, a small business, a little job for his children to escape the terrible fate that life gave her, her . But a manager somewhere has decided otherwise. Under the pretext that it is a single mother, so can not be head of the family, she will not have access to its housing, and the destruction of its slums has been decided. She finds herself on the street. With her children. She could not stand it.
Shortly before his tragic and dramatic gesture, she made a speech, a kind of last will, "sarqouli berrakti" she repeated, before immolate - I was robbed of my hut. Fadoua could have put an end to his suffering more discreetly, but it was not his goal. If she simply wanted to escape the harsh life she would have ended his days in a less painful. Because that is what she wanted: attention, albeit posthumous, of the company on its situation. Perhaps she hoped that the case be publicized, and that his children receive some charity that would save them from the precarious that are designed most of our compatriots *. She did not even have at the end, right to a dispatch MAP. Unworthy state.
"I was robbed of my hut! ". She has not appointed a manager. Has it managed to identify one? Probably not. In a country that respects its citizens, an investigation was conducted to give names, to punish those who deserve it, overcome the legal inconsistency if there is one. This is not the case here because the manager is a system, one which even the youth of February 20 wanted to end. This kind of soulless monster has a name: the Makhzen.
A day will come when it will be the turn of the Makhzen be consumed in the flames of our desire for change. Fadoua the situation will not be improved overnight, I concede. But the responsibility is no longer that of a body politic and abstract ubique who do good deeds hoping for its own survival, but of the whole society, all individuals, all subjects now citizens. And I truly believe that once their destiny into their own hands, men make the best use.
* The poverty-as defined in UNDP - affects 8.9 million Moroccans. Many Fadoua Laroui.
Fadoua Laroui in the international press:
- Fadoua Laroui: The Moroccan Mohamed Bouazizi - Laila Lalami, The Nation
- One Moroccan Woman's Fiery Protest - The HuffPo
- AFP dispatch
- RIP Fadoua Laroui: Blog AbMoul
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