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Text:

"The man stood up and gave me the warmest handshake of my life. I was completely confused. For a moment, I thought he had mistaken me for someone else.

Then he said, “It’s such an honor to meet one of Si Mouloud’s grandchildren. My family owes him so much—we owe him our lives.”

I was really taken aback. I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. He continued talking, and I listened, wide-eyed, unable to believe what I was hearing.

Here’s the story he told me:

Back in the early days of the Algerian revolution, his grandfather, Sidali Laouar, was a musician. But not just any musician—he was a member of the resistance. A very handsome man and a gifted oud player, he performed alongside his wife, Lalla Deedee, a singer with a voice so moving it was said to bring people to tears. The fact that they were stunning must have helped too.

Together, they were a beloved musical duo. Their talent opened many doors—including those of the enemy. They often performed at hotels and events attended by French officials. Their popularity became their cover. While entertaining guests, they secretly gathered information. Through coded lyrics in their songs, they passed intelligence to the armed resistance. Their role was crucial in several key operations.

But how does my grandfather fit into all this?

After eighteen months of working as messengers, the authorities caught on. The French police had discovered their secret and were planning to execute them. Sidali and Deedee who were used to the lavish life of entertainers, became fugitives overnight.

One desperate night, they knocked on Grandpa Mouloud’s door. They told him everything. He was terrified—rightfully so. Helping them could mean death. But he couldn’t turn them away.

He let them hide under the stairs in his home. The big house was one of those old style houses with a courtyard in the middle. He tucked them behind some furniture, he fed them, and kept them hidden. The risk was enormous. Any one of the nearby families could have been interrogated. And the French police were not known for their mercy.

A few days later, the police came knocking. They wanted to search the house.

Grandpa was so terrified that his body temperature spiked. He turned red. He was sweating and shaking uncontrollably—he looked severely ill. Grandma Sousou acted fast. She told the officers he was gravely sick, possibly contagious. That scared them off. They backed away and left without searching.

He had saved the musical duo’s lives. She had saved their family’s lives… "

email me: pr.asma.benmoussa@gmail.com

Text: Grandpa Mouloud

Nobody knew that Grandpa Mouloud was a Moudjahid. Well, maybe Grandma Sousou knew, but if she did, she took that secret to the grave. None of her children had any idea, not even my mother, who was the eldest and the most trusted of them all, always by her parents' side. She was her mother’s confident and her father’s right hand,andeven she didn’t know.

But you know what they say: the truth always comes out and this time, it happened in the most unexpected way.

Let me tell you how it all unfolded.

Two summers ago, I went to Turkey for a much-needed vacation. It had been a rough couple of years. The shop had gone under, and we had to rebuild everything from scratch. We went back to the drawing board, searching for a new idea. I had to call in every favor, reach out to everyone I knew, no matter how distant the connection. I worked 80-hour weeks, 100-hour weeks even, for months on end. It was exhausting. Thankfully, it all paid off. By summer, things were finally looking up, so I decided to treat myself to a vacation. I needed to clear my head.

Anyway, back to the story.

I was having lunch at a restaurant in Bodrum when I overheard someone at the table next to mine speaking Dardja, with the very distinct accent of my tiny village. I couldn’t help myself, I turned around and said hello. We all laughed at the coincidence and fell into the usual Algerian routine of: “Do you know so-and-so?” “Oh yeah, I know so-and-so.”

Then I mentioned my grandfather’s name.

Their jaws dropped. It was like they had seen a ghost.

One of them stood up and gave me the warmest handshake I’ve ever received in my life. I just stood there, completely confused. “What is this about?” I thought…

Email me: pr.asma.benmoussa@gmail.com

Text: Holiday Plans

Amina: Hey Lamia! Long time no see. What are you up to these days?

Lamia: Oh, hey Amina! Not much, just trying to survive this crazy week at work. I can’t wait for the holidays. I’m going on vacation to Constantine. I’m super excited about that. I can’t wait to walk over the bridges and under them, and to really take in this medieval city. What about you? Got any plans lined up?

Amina: Well… not really. I’ve been thinking about taking a trip too, but I keep going back and forth.

Leo: Why? You always talk about wanting to explore the country a bit more. Where were you thinking of going?

Amina: My cousin invited me to visit her in Bejaia, but I don’t know… it feels like a big hassle. Flights, packing, expenses—it all adds up.

Lamia: Come on, don’t talk yourself out of it already! When was the last time you actually took a real vacation?

Amina: Hmm… I guess about six years ago. But things are different now. I’ve got so much on my plate.

Lamia: You always say that! You need to take a breather. If you keep burning the candle at both ends, you’ll crash.

Amina: I know, you’re right. I just feel guilty when I take time off.

Lamia: Guilty? For what? Everyone needs to recharge their batteries. You’ve been running non-stop for years.

Amina: Maybe. I thought about staying home, catching up on some reading, or cleaning up the apartment.

Lamia: Cleaning up the apartment? That doesn’t sound like much of a holiday!

Amina: Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I’m not sure I want to deal with airports and crowds either.

Lamia: Fair enough. What if you just take a short trip somewhere nearby? Get out of town for a couple of days, nothing fancy.

Amina: Hmm, that might actually work. Maybe I could drive down to the lake. I haven’t been there in ages.

Lamia: There you go! Just pack light and hit the road. You don’t have to go far to get a change of scenery.

Amina: You make it sound so easy. Maybe I’ll give it a shot.

Lamia: That’s the spirit! Don’t overthink it. Sometimes the best trips are the ones you don’t plan too much for.