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Saharan
Camp' s
journal
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Saharan,
Camp' s journal
Nebguha, like thousands of Saharan people, fled across the desert, it was September 15 of 1976, a Moroccan swarm of airplanes appeared suddenly in the horizon and immediately they began to bombing to them.
Many died, and Nebguha, that was pregnant, was injured in her foot, they didn't know where to go, just fled from the recent invasion of the Spanish Western Sahara by the troops of Moroccan king Hassan ll, it was known as “the green march”, they fled in disorder, with all the goods they could carrying in their hands and leaving behind the most of their properties, at that momnet they thought that the conflict will be resolved quickly.
Meanwhile they began again in a piece of desolated desert, part of the Sahara, yielded by the Algerian government known as “the Hamada”, they raised their bedouin tents again while waiting for a quick back home, but, first days gone, later weeks and months, finally they spent almost 30 years, and still waiting.
They built schools, hospitals, markets, etc, with provisional materials, organized their communities in camps, wilayas and districts, and go ahead asking for hope to God in their prays, always kneeling towards the Mecca.
Their live run over an enormous and infinite ocher land sprayed with the blood and the memory of the innocents fallen, sharing what they will never forget and goes everywhere with all of them, the hope, the hope that some day they will back home.
Nebguha, like thousands of Saharan people, fled across the desert, it was September 15 of 1976, a Moroccan swarm of airplanes appeared suddenly in the horizon and immediately they began to bombing to them.
Many died, and Nebguha, that was pregnant, was injured in her foot, they didn't know where to go, just fled from the recent invasion of the Spanish Western Sahara by the troops of Moroccan king Hassan ll, it was known as “the green march”, they fled in disorder, with all the goods they could carrying in their hands and leaving behind the most of their properties, at that momnet they thought that the conflict will be resolved quickly.
Meanwhile they began again in a piece of desolated desert, part of the Sahara, yielded by the Algerian government known as “the Hamada”, they raised their bedouin tents again while waiting for a quick back home, but, first days gone, later weeks and months, finally they spent almost 30 years, and still waiting.
They built schools, hospitals, markets, etc, with provisional materials, organized their communities in camps, wilayas and districts, and go ahead asking for hope to God in their prays, always kneeling towards the Mecca.
Their live run over an enormous and infinite ocher land sprayed with the blood and the memory of the innocents fallen, sharing what they will never forget and goes everywhere with all of them, the hope, the hope that some day they will back home.
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