My father, that Arab - El Ajouad Company / The Generous

Théâtre de la Halle au Blé, Place du 8 Mai 1945

My mother gave me a suitcase, and I didn’t open it for years. I knew what it contained. Not long ago, I opened it a little, slipped my hand in, and I came upon a narrow, thin strip of paper, a payslip. The amount written at the bottom of this nothing, as if it were ashamed to be there, shocked me, misery. My father was worth a misery. I closed the suitcase for many more years. Not now. My father came from Algeria, this great country, the largest in Africa. I don’t know this country, or so little but…