"Alone, every so often, I come in via Ponchielli. Although it is black and burned, I recomposed the piece by piece. I stop in front of the house Gate 21 and the skeletons of houses, reassemble the rubble, put together the flash. I see my mother and father in the kitchen, my brothers who play as if nothing had happened, as if he were dead, and I can believe that tomorrow is possible. " Eyes of pitch, her hair in the wind on the pier in Viareggio, Ibi has returned a few days ago from Casablanca, where he had flown in late August.
Ibtissan Ayad, 21, is the North African girl became a symbol of the massacre of Viareggio. On 29 June he lost his father Mohamed, 51, his mother, Aziza, 46, his brother Hamza, 17, and her sister Iman, for three years: "You are my treasure. When I go back to 21 before I see the swing on the swing in the garden is like a mirage but it does not last long enough for me, I must suffice. Remove not needed, I sew the memories. I always cry that night when my father gave me a half burnt his hand and kiss my mother did not have time to flee because he had forgotten the documents, I think of Hamza, him coming out late, that was back before midnight, and Iman who sang the songs of the carnival. The fate has been a domino tiles of my life has taken down all of them. I am still standing and I must continue to stay in it. "
Ibi already knows how: "In mid-October with my husband Hicham. A civil ceremony in town, because I feel Italian even if I do not have citizenship. If we have a little girl call Iman. I will make the pastry, a vocation that I inherited from my mom. Preparing meals for the kids who came from Morocco. Together with my father, served as the reference point for those who landed in Viareggio disoriented and confused. The house in Via Ponchielli was like a family home. I'm never coming here to live, exhale too much pain, but with the compensation money will I a family home, and I'll feel at home again. "
now lives with Hicham, a 24 year old boy he met four years ago. She had arrived in 2004 at Viareggio, on the bus. After three days of travel, the driver had stopped at the station: "My father was here in '92, worked in the shipyards at the port. There accompanied immediately walk in and I fell in love. " Now before the "Bharata", the sea, Ibi is in the evening, "I cry and I speak as one, but more often I look up. And the fear dissolves'
Posted by Mario on Blacks Florence Republic (09/24/2009)
0 comments:
Post a Comment