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I was born in Tunisia, in Tunis, a few steps from that city’s large ghetto. My father, a harness maker, was somewhat pious, naturally somewhat so, as were all men of his trade and his station in life…
Meanwhile, the beautiful Saâda wandered the streets of Blidah . . . She continued straight ahead, without purpose or thought.
She went . . . She found Blida banal with its one-story European…