Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail

By KHALID MOURIGH and MAARTEN KOSSMANN (LUCL, Leiden University)1

Abstract
Among the many people that are involved in the refugee trail towards the European Union
via Turkey and the Balkans, a large group originates from the northern part of Morocco,
the Rif. The article presents a bilingual edition of five songs that have this wave of immi-
gration out of Morocco as their subject. The songs are produced in Nador (Morocco) and
sung in Tarifiyt Berber.

Keywords
Rif, Morocco, Refugees, Berber, Pop Culture.

In the second half of 2015, large numbers of refugees made their way to Europe
through a journey that took them by boat from Turkey to Greece, and then through
the Balkans and Austria to Germany and further onward. The refugees, mainly
from Syria, Eritrea and Afghanistan, were joined by people from other countries,
in search for a better life abroad. Among them, there were a large number of
Moroccans, many of whom came from the region of Nador in the Rif, the
northeastern part of Morocco (Goverde 2015; 2016; Peregil 2016). While it had
since long been impossible or very dangerous to take the more direct route to
Europe via Spain, the detour by the east was facilitated by the fact that Turkey
does not demand visa for Moroccans; after arriving in Turkey, the Moroccans
would join refugees from Syria and other countries and continue their way to
Europe, esp. Germany.
The Moroccan Rif has a long history of migration, dating back to colonial
times when many Riffians went to work on French farms in Algeria, and
culminating in the large-scale labor migration that took place in the second half
of the 20th century; in Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands the majority of
Moroccan “guest workers” that arrived there in the 1960s and 1970s had their
background in the Rif.
The new migration wave has not remained unnoticed in the popular culture of
the home region, between November 2015 and January 2016 no less than five
songs about the “Turkey route” (aḇriḏ n ṭurkiya) were uploaded on youtube.com,
some of them several times. They received due attention, as shown by the number
of views on youtube, which were in mid-February 2016 already over 100,000 for
Soufiane Bousaidi; over 65,000 for Jouhan Nouri and Soufian; over 30,000 for
Ahmed Amzian, and about 10,000 for Tarik Tito. All these songs are performed

1
The article was written in the context of the European-funded project AThEME:
Advancing the European Multilingual Experience.
222 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

in Tarifiyt Berber, and they all seem to originate from the city of Nador. Even
though some of the songs describe the migrants’ journey, there is no reason to
believe that the performers themselves took part in the migration – in fact, the
somewhat confused geography of the Balkans in some of the songs strongly
suggests lack of first-hand experience.
In this article, we want to present the texts of these five songs,2 which give us
an impression how the “Turkey route” is perceived and interpreted in the home-
land of the migrants, based on the songs as posted on youtube.

The first song presented here is by Jouhan Nouri; it was released in the first days
of January 2016. The song is accompanied by a professional video clip, produced
by AMI Prod (TABRAT 2016). The song is mainly a complaint about the mi-
grants, who leave their loved ones in pursuit of an impossible future. The clip
illustrates the hardships of the road (running through the woods; crossing water
in a small boat with mobster-type boatsmen) and the tears of the people left at
home. It culminates in the death of one of the migrants from an electric wire,
reflecting the fate of a young man from Nador, Ilias Meziani, at the border be-
tween Greece and Macedonia, that was much discussed in local media. Appar-
ently the others decide to go back home, and the last scene shows them returning
home and being welcomed by their dear ones. Ironically, the singer is reported to
have taken the road to Turkey himself after his song came out (Peregil 2016).

1. Jouhan Nouri: aḇriḏ n ṭurkiya “the Turkey road” (Abred N Turkia)

CHORUS:
ṯaṛwa n arrif inu mi kenniw-ixeṣṣen.
ya aḇriḏ n ṭurkiya i kenniw-issḇuheřyen.
kenniw war ṯessinem min dinni ittuqiɛen.
kkařen di řeɣwaḇi, msakin tnusen faqen.
Children of my Rif, what do you need.
The road through Turkey has made you fools.
You don’t know what is happening there.
The poor ones, they spend their days in forests and do not sleep at night.

ṯaṛwa n arrif inu, tuɣa-kenniw ḏa ḥsen.

usin-d iṣuriyen, i kenniw-yessfelsen.

2
The transcription follows general practices in the field. Among the less common
conventions, one may mention <ɛ> for [ʕ], <e> for ə, <ḓ> for [ðˤ] and <ř> for the rhotic
sound that is not vocalized in coda position, and which has no special effects on
surrounding vowels. <r> is vocalized in coda position (not unlike German r), and has
a lowering effect on adjacent vowels. For more details on Tarifiyt Berber, cf. Chami
(1979); Kossmann (2000); and especially Lafkioui (2007).
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 223

Children of my Rif, you were better off here.

The Syrians came that gave you bad ideas.

win diha yuyur yesmeḥ war yenni ḷḷah iɛawen.

yežža iḥenžirn nnes trun xas imeṭṭawen.
That man over there went away and left, and did not even say Goodbye.
He left his children crying tears about him. [CHORUS]

arrif inu yexřa, mmaṛṛa hažaren.

qqimen iwessura žarasen aḏ mɛašaren.
My Rif is empty, everybody has left the country.
Only old men remain that keep each other company. [CHORUS]

uřa ḏ šem a wečma inu ṯarnid-d kisen ixf nnem

ṯežžiḏ meskina yemma-m ttnixṣiṣ qiḇař nnem.
You too, my sister, you put yourself in their company
You left your poor mother sobbing in front of you. [CHORUS]

The second song is by Soufiane Bousaidi; it contains both lyrical parts and rap.
The text touches on a number of themes. The first part describes the journey: the
resolution to leave, a description of the journey, the arrival in Germany and the
betrayal by relatives that live there. The second part is a rapped “bragging”, in
which the artist makes clear that he is not going to do physical labor, but rather be
a tough drugs dealer; it constitutes a contrast to the earlier part, where the migrant
has to do a number of highly “uncool” things, such as asking his girlfriend for
money and pretending not to be a Moroccan. The third part is an explanation of
the bad state of the Rif these days and the reasons why people want to leave. The
song ends with a couple of lines emphasizing love for Morocco and respect for
the King; in spite of this somewhat unexpected turn, this does not seem to be
meant ironically.

2. Soufiane Bousaidi: Turkia

CHORUS:
arrif inu war ḏayi-tṛaža, arrif inu qḓan ḏayek ḥaža,
arrif inu iɛiš ḏayek ɣa ttažar, arrif inu bessif xaneɣ a nhažar.
My Rif, don’t wait for me, my Rif, they have ruined you.
My Rif, only rich people (can) live in you, my Rif, we have to emigrate.

war tru ša a yemma, dɛa akiḏi s ttisar,

ṯessneḏ mmi-m mayemmi yexs aḏ ihažar.
224 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

Don’t cry, mother, pray for me for ease,

You know why your son wants to leave.

feqḓeɣ imeddukař řa ḏ ižžen war ṯ-ẓṛiɣ,

řa ḏ nešš ṯḇan-ayi-d, a yemma aḏ xřiɣ,
mešḥa nešš ḏanita, war ẓṛiɣ min ggiɣ,
řxeḏmeṯ n yewḏan, řa ḏ aɣyuř war ṯ-sɣiɣ,
yuẓa ɣari řḥař, ṣafi, dɛiɣ, yemma dɛiɣ.
ṯemẓi inu ṯɛeddu, musteqḇel war ṯ-ggiɣ,
32 sna, min da ẓṛiɣ? min da ggiɣ?
waxxa řeḇḥar yeqseḥ, aḏ ɣamarɣ aḏ ẓwiɣ,
waxxa xems-eyyam aḏ uyurɣ n weḇriḏ,
waxxa s uqessi n yiri war ḏa tɣimiɣ;
řmewḵt n yižž umaṛ, ḥsen zi ma řeḇda tmettiɣ.
I can’t find my friends, I haven’t seen any of them,
And me too, mother, it seems I’ll have to leave,
How long have I been here, I haven’t done anything,
Working for people, not even able to buy a donkey,
Things are hard on me, I beg (God), my mother, I beg (God).
My youth is fading away, I haven’t made me a future,
32 years, what have I seen here, what have I done here?
Even if the sea is hard, I’ll take my chance to cross,
Even if I’ll have to walk five days on the road,
Even if my head gets cut off, I will not stay here;
Death at once is better then dying continuously. [CHORUS]

yaḷḷah a negg fus ḏegg ufus a narḥ ɣar tuṛkiya,

nnan-ayi ḇiyyiti a ṯegga sebɛ-emya,
yemma ṯezzenz ṯameqyast, ṯḍebbar-ayi-d xems-emya,
maša min yeqqimen a ḏayi-t-tkemmeř nuḇya,
aḏ arḥeɣ ḏ ameɣṛaḇi, aḏ ggeɣ ixf inu zi ṣuriya,
aḏ muneɣ ak yayeṯma, a nšarš ḏi sudya,
a naweḓ lyunan, a neɛḏu ɣar ṣluḇinya,
yumayen n weḇriḏ a naweḓ sirḇya,
šḥar ḏaneɣ-yeqqimen i keřwatya?
ṯeṣmeḓ ḏ žžuɛ, ma nexs manaya?
lḥemdulilah aṛebbi niweḓ aḷmanya.
Come on, let’s put our hands together and go to Turkey,
They tell me that a ticket costs 700,3
My mother sold her bracelet, and got me 500,

3
Implied: 700,000 centimes, i.e. 7,000 dirham.
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 225

But what is left, my girlfriend will get it for me,

I’ll go as a Moroccan, and pretend I am from Syria,
I’ll go with my brothers, we will share the zodiac,
We will reach Greece, and then pass to Slovenia,
Two days walking and we’ll reach Serbia,
How far away is Croatia from us?
Cold and hunger, do we really want this?
Thank God, we have (finally) arrived in Germany.

ih Gutmorgen Fṛankfuṛt,
nešš ḏ mmi-s n wezɣenɣan, usiɣ-d zi ṯeḥḇuṭṭ.
kkiɣ-d zi tuṛkiya, ak yayeṯma ḏi ṯɣaṛṛabut.
nus-d a nexḏem bizniz, war d-nusi a neqqen řḇuṭ.
war ntṛiḥ ḇu ɣar hulanḍa, a narggweḥ s aḷḷas xut.
So, guten Morgen, Frankfurt.4
I am from Zeghanghane5, I’ve come from Tahbout,
I have passed through Turkey, with my friends in a little boat,
We have come here to do business, we haven’t come to put on boots.
We won’t go to Holland, and go back (to Morocco) with alles goed.6

ih i min daš-tɣiř?
So, what do you think?

(telephone rings)
- allo, a nešš ḏ sufyan ayyaw nneš a xaři,
a mani ṯedžiḏ, ḏeɣya as-d ɣari qa ṯesmeḓ ṯenɣa-ayi.
- allo, a min teɛniḏ? a ṯḇuqarḏ ḏi numṛu a wlidi!
- Hello, I am Soufiane, your nephew, my uncle,
Where are you? Come quickly, I am dying from cold!
- Hello, who are you? You have chosen the wrong number, my son!

ih, manis kkin inni ḏayi-yennan, ɣa a teẓẓwiḏ as-d ɣari,

umi ḏa d ɣa y awḓeɣ maṛṛa ṯarweř zzayi,
war ufiɣ la y ameddukeř la ɛzizi, la ɛenti,

4
German for “good morning Frankfurt”. The city of Frankfurt hosts one of the largest
Moroccan communities in Germany. Most of its members have their roots in the region
of Nador.
5
A satellite town of Nador, about seven kilometers from the city center, from which
large numbers of youth are reported to have parted (Peregil 2016).
6
A Dutch phrase meaning “everything okay”.
226 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

a ssneɣ illa war ṯexseḏ ḇu a ayi-ṯessargḇeḏ billa tɛišem ḏi spagiti.

aqa řa ḏ nešš ṭulanṭi, ssneɣ mameš ɣa menɛeɣ ḇulanṭi.
So, where have those people gone that said: Just cross and come to me,7
Now that I have arrived, everybody flees away from me,
I haven’t found my friend, nor my uncle, nor my aunt,
I know you don’t want to let me know that you are living in spaghetti.
Look, I’m also a rascal, I know how to handle the driving wheel. [CHORUS]

neššin imaziɣen nessen mi x d-nquḷa,

war d-nusi a nexḏem řeḇni, nus-d a nezzenz ḇuḷa,
a nɛemmaṛ aqemmum, a narḥ a nṣarḇar kula,
netmeřqa deg panuṯ, ḏin ntegg pirikula,
a nẓaṛ izizawen, nesɣedžay am ššukuḷa,
war nddikkwiř ɣar ḏeffar, war nteggweḏ pisṭula,
ma war ḏayi-ṯeɛqiřed, xzar ḏi matrakula,
xemsin alif, mutur nnes war itkula.
We Berbers, we know why we (illegally) crossed the sea,
We haven’t come for construction work, we have come to sell balls.8
We fill our mouths, we’ll serve Cola,
We meet at cafés and there we perform our film (scil. business),
We’ll see the cops and swallow (the cocaine balls) like chocolate,
We don’t retreat, we don’t fear a pistol,
If you don’t remember me, look at my number plate,
Fifty ’alif,9 its engine does not overheat. [CHORUS]

a ḏawem-iniɣ, bnaḏem minzi ithažar,

arrif inu iɛřam ižž n sspiṭar,
amšum iṣur ḏin, ḷḷah yeḥfeḓ, ḷḷah iṣṭar,
puḇri meskin s řeḥřiq itnezbar,
qqarn-as min daš ɣa negg, ṛuḥ xeddeṣ ḏ amezwar,
mmeṯ niɣ qqim, wi š-d-yarrin řexḇar?
aḓḇiḇ qiḇař nneš, a yegga ḓar x uḓar,
qamaṯ ḏ imehřaš, kušši itsintrar,
war ttifeḏ ddwa, qa kušši itṣeffaṛ,
war ɣarneɣ ḇu lḥuquq, a netɛiš ḏi lxaṭar,
wa ma ḏ ṣpiṭar, niɣ ḏ ḇuya ɛumar?

7
Implied: Established Riffian immigrants in Germany that make promises when they
are on vacation in Nador, assuming that one will never be able to come.
8
Scil. balls with cocaine.
9
Number plates of cars from Nador have the number 50 and the first letter of the Arabic
alphabet, ʾalif.
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 227

I’ll tell you why people leave the country,

My Rif has only one hospital,
The poor guy that gets in there, God help him, God have mercy on him
The poor one, he is suffering from pain,
They tell him: What shall we do for you, first pay us,
Die or stay, who cares about you?
The doctor is sitting next to you, with his legs crossed,
The beds and the sick, they are all mixed up,
You won’t find medicine, everything is empty,
We don’t have rights, we live in danger,
Is this a hospital or is it Bouya Omar?10 [CHORUS]

arrif inu, aḇedžaɛ břa y anẓar,

arrif inu, ḏi řmešta iddakkwař ḏ iɣẓar,
arrif inu, iqqim ḏayi umeḥḓar
arrif inu, ggeṯ-as ṯaɣaṛṛaḇut zi ɣa iṛaḥ aḏ iɣaṛ,
arrif inu, lmizaniya nnes maṛṛa ttwašar,
arrif inu, arrif inu, wenni ḏi ɣa negg řaman a d-iffeɣ ḏ ašeffaṛ,
arrif inu, ṯenɣim-aneɣ s ixaṛṛiqen, ša war yeɛḏiř,
wenni war d-yusin ak ṯesřiṯ ma a d-yas ɛaḏ ak umendiř?
sḥess ɣari a ḏaš-iniɣ, pinalti uḇalun imken a ṯ-teḥḓiḏ,
maša pinalti inu iqṣeḥ xak a ṯ-teřqiḏ,
maša pinalti inu iqṣeḥ xak a ṯ-teřqiḏ.
neššin waxxa nuyur, war ntettu arrif nneɣ,
ḏ wuř yemɣar,
lmeɣṛiḇ řeḇda, balad s-salam,
u ɣarneɣ ʾaḥsan l-malik ḏi l-ɛalam,
u ɣarneɣ ʾaḥsan l-malik ḏi l-ɛalam,
u ɣarneɣ ʾaḥsan l-malik ḏi l-ɛalam.
My Rif; mud without rain,
My Rif; in the winter it becomes a river,
My Rif; I feel sorry for the pupil,
My Rif; bring him a boat so he can cross (the river) to school,
My Rif; its whole budget has been stolen.
My Rif, my Rif; anybody we would trust turns out to be a thief,
My Rif; you have killed me with your lies, nothing has been repaired,
He who doesn’t come with a bride, should he come with a wedding meal?
Listen to me, I’ll tell you: A penalty in football can be stopped,
But my penalty is hard for you to stop,

10
A mental home in Marrakech which hosts mostly poor mentally ill people. Bouya
Omar is the name of the marabout around which this mental home is built.
228 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

But my penalty is hard for you to stop.

Even though we have gone, we won’t forget our Rif,
And the great heart,
Morocco is always the country of peace,
And we have the best king in the world.
And we have the best king in the world.
And we have the best king in the world.

The third video is a live recording of a performance by Tarik Tito in a café, before
a flatscreen television showing a football match. Its text takes up a number of
subjects and clichés also found in the other songs, e.g. the idea that old people can
now only make visits among themselves, or the description of the road to
Germany.

3. Tarik Tito: Turkia

CHORUS:
aḇriḏ n ṭurkiya, itawḓen ɣar lyunan,
nnemsa ḏ keřwatiya, a nkemmeř ɣar uḷiman,
ṯeṣmeḓ ḏ inexřiɛen, netnus ḏegg qiḓan,
ha lkaṛ, ha mašina, netkemmař-it x iḓarn,
The Turkey road that goes to Greece,
Austria and Croatia, and we’ll finish in Germany
Cold and fear, we sleep in tents,
Here a bus, there a train, and we finish on foot.

azɣenɣan qa yexwa, ya nnaḓur šway kṭar,

qqimen ɣar iwessura, žarasen aḏ mɛašarn,
a žeɛdar qa yexwa, ɛin ẓuṛa šway kṭaṛ,
qqiment ɣar ṯiwessura, žarasent aḏ mɛašarnt.
Zeghanghane is empty, and Nador even more,
Only old people stay to visit each other
Jaadar11 is empty, Ain Zohra12 even more,
Only old women stay to visit each other. [CHORUS]

ḷḷanša ḏ ṯameẓẓyant, a ṯɛemmaṛ s lbašaṛ,

a ya řalla yemma ak řemwaž ntemkabar,

11
A village halfway between Zeghanghane and Nador.
12
A township south of Driouch, about 100 km from Nador. Its mention is unexpected in
view of the otherwise very local geographical references in the song.
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 229

aqedduḥ ḏ ameẓẓyan, a iɛemmaṛ s lbašaṛ,

ha ɛešṛa, ha seḇɛin, ḏi řemwaž itemkaḇar.
The boat is small and full with people,
O mother dear, with the waves we try to stay strong,
A small tin can, and full of people,
Here ten, there seventy, in the waves they try to stay strong. [CHORUS]

niweḓ franekfurt, lɛimaṛaṯ ḏ aweḍḍaṛ,

iwḏan msettafen, lḥayat ḏ aneqḇaṛ.
We have arrived in Frankfurt, large beautiful buildings
The people are in line, life is wonderful. [CHORUS]

The fourth song is a dance music song by Ahmed Amzian. It focusses exclusively
on the youth staying behind, who are left in empty cafés and without company.

4. Ahmed Amzian: kušši yuyur ṭurkiya (kochi youya Torkia)

CHORUS:
a mešḥar yuyurn, maṛṛa ṯexřa, maṛṛa ṯeɛdu, maṛṛa ṯeɛdu.
a qqimen da ɣa išekkamen, a wa ḏ meḥḓu, a wa ḏ meḥḓu.
How many have gone, everything is empty, everyone is gone.
Only traitors remain, and the ones who watch you.

a ḥḓa-ayi, a š-ḥḓiɣ a mmi-s n xaři ḥeddu, a mmis n xaři ḥeddu.

a yenni yarezzun x weɣṛum a nyen degg uɣaṛṛaḇu, a wa nyen degg uɣaṛṛabu.
Take care of me, and I will take care of you, son of uncle Heddou.
Those that look for bread they have taken the boat. [CHORUS]

min yuɣin ameḥsaḏ a y uř nnes iředdu, a y uř nnes iředdu

war ɣars ḇu ṯenɛašin a minzi ɣa yeɛḏu, a wa a minzi ɣa yeɛḏu.
What is happening to the jealous person, his heart is beating.
He doesn’t have money, how shall he pass? [CHORUS]

a mařa ṯeggiḏ laḇas ulaḇud a š-ḓfarn, ya ulaḇud a š-ḓfarn

a mařa ṯḇenniḏ šway, a lmuhim a š-ḥḓan, a lmuhim a š-ḥḓan.
If you have enough money, they will follow you,
If you have built a bit, they will keep an eye on you. [CHORUS]

The fifth song is by another artist named Soufian; it is accompanied by one single
image, a little boat with refugees and the Turkish and German flags.
230 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

5. Soufian: Turkya

mana degg-a, a manaya?

xzar i ššaḇaḇ hažarn ɣar ṭurkiya.
šarhen, mellen, ɛiffen.
gɛan ḏeɣya, ggin řḥeṣṛan ak ššeɛḇ n ṣuriya.
What is this, what is this?
Look at the youth, they’ve all migrated to Turkey,
They hate (scil. their lives), they are fed up, they have had enough,
They have become mad quickly and are joining the people of Syria.

a ṭṭiyaṛa qelleɛ ḏeɣya, ḓu ḏegg ujenna

sars-ayi ḏi ṭurkiya,
aḏ šuqeɣ lyunan, ṣluḇinya ḏ sirbiya,
aḏ ḍḍarɣ ḏi nnemsa, aḏ ssižžeɣ x ddenya.
O airplane leave quickly, fly in the sky,
Drop me in Turkey,
I will cross through Greece, Slovenia and Serbia,
I will descend in Austria and see the world.

CHORUS:
a iřiṯ mliḥ mliḥ, qeɛ kenniw mliḥ,
a umi ṯufim wi ḏawem-yewšin ttesriḥ,
a ḏi ṯmurṯ nnwem walu, řxeḏmeṯ war ṯenžiḥ,
ṯežžim yemma-ṯwem, řḇař war itariyyeḥ.
Just be good, be good, you are all good,
Because you have found somebody who got you permission,
In your country there is nothing, your work hasn’t brought you success,
You left your mothers, your minds do not find peace.

a lwati, aqqa-aneɣ ɛaḏ ḏi ṭurkiya, g iṣtanbul a weddi amṛaḇeḓ inu,13

řexxu a d-nurzu ṯaɣaṛṛaḇut-nni aḥ a ḏayes nni waha;
uša aḏ iɛawen siḏi aṛebbi waha aweddi a ššrif inu.
El Ouati,14 we are still in Turkey, in Istanbul, o my dear marabout,
Now we are looking for a boat, and just get into it,
Then only God will help, dear friend.

a ddšaṛ inu, mayemmi yexřa?

iḥṛamen nneɣ uyuren mmaṛṛa,

13
These three lines are spoken like a telephone call.
14
The real name of the singer Soufian(e) is Mohamed El Ouati.
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 231

zi paṛaḓa, ɣar ṭṭiyara,

zi iṣtanbul, ɣar lžazira.
O my village, why is it empty?
Our boys have all left,
From the station to the airplane,
From Istanbul to the island.

a wma a as-nšedd, šedd ṯisiřa,

fekkar řiyyam n fṛuntiṛa,
anẓar yeššaṯ, aḏfeř x iḏurar,
řeɛqeř yaržef, iḓeṣ yennežṛa.
My brother, we will tie, tie his shoes,
Think of the days at the border,15
The rain falls, snow is on the mountains,
The mind is absent, sleep is lost. [CHORUS]

sḥessem ɣarneɣ, fehmem-aneɣ,

war ḏawem-nenni, wšem-aneɣ,
xzar ššabab, qeɛ ṯexs a teffeɣ,
wenni ɣa sseqsiɣ, a ḏayi-yini melleɣ.
Listen to us, understand us,
We did not tell you: Give to us,
Look at the youth, they all want to leave,
Everyone that I ask says: I’m fed up.

ṯweḍḍarm-aneɣ, ṯebřam-aneɣ,
a ḏi řeɣben ṯežžim-aneɣ,
s ixaṛṛiqen ṯesɣim-aneɣ,
s aṛxa ṯṛuḥem, ṯezzenzem-aneɣ.
You have made us lost, you have made us addicted,
You have left us longing,
You have bought us with lies,
You have sold us very cheap. [CHORUS]

a šḥa nemseysi, šḥa nɣamaṛ,

pasapuṛti nenḍar-iṯ ḏi řeḇḥar,
aḇriḏ ḏ azirar, amnus yemɣaṛ,
n lwalidin i nežža ɣar ḏeffar.

15
This probably refers to work as semi-legal porters at the frontier between the Spanish
enclave of Melilla, very close to Nador, and Morocco.
232 K. Mourigh and M. Kossmann

How much have we tried, how many risks have we taken,

We have thrown our passports in the sea,
The road is long, the worries are great,
For our parents whom we left behind.

šḥa yemmuṯen x ufus n beššaṛ,

min i nežmen yehṣeř ḏi řeḇḥar,
neššin žarasen mani neggur?
nežžudž aḷiman a xas nesteɛmaṛ.
How many people have died because of Bashar (al-Assad),
The ones who escaped are stuck in the sea,
We are among them, where are we going?
We have sworn to colonize Germany. [CHORUS]

ha bilžika, ha y aḷiman,
ma war kenniw-xeṣṣen ɛaḏ yewḏan?
aqqa-yen da, ɛemmarṣ aḏ qḓan,
maṛṛa tmennan a ɣarwem d-ẓwan.
Belgium and Germany,
Don’t you need more people?
They are here, they will never run out,
They all hope to cross over to you.

ammu yegga uɛeffan-a n zzman,

ḏi ṯmurṯ nneɣ walu řaman,
řuřuf n yewḏan yekkin lyunan,
teggen řḥeṣran feyyḓen řkiṛan.
This is how this bad era is,
In our country there is no trust,
Thousands of people have crossed Greece,
They have caused bustle and filled the buses. [CHORUS]
 Moroccan Berber Songs about the Refugee Trail 233

References
Chami, Mohamed. 1979. Un parler amazigh du Rif marocain. Approche phono-
logique et morphologique. Thèse de 3ème Cycle. Paris V.
Goverde, Rick. 2015 (Nov. 24). “Marokkanen zien kans om als Syriër Europa te
bereiken.” Algemeen Dagblad, 24/11/2015. http://www.ad.nl/ad/nl/ 1013/Bui-
tenland/article/detail/4193696/2015/11/24/Marokkanen-zien-kans-om-als-
Syrier-Europa-te-bereiken.dhtml
Goverde, Rick. 2016 (Jan. 17). “Minstens 7500 Marokkanen als vluchteling naar
Europa.” Algemeen Dagblad, 17/1/2016. http://www.ad.nl/ad/nl/36281/
Vluchtelingenstroom-West-Europa/article/detail/4226088/
2016/01/17/Minstens-7500-Marokkanen-als-vluchteling-naar-Europa.dhtml
Kossmann, Maarten. 2000. Esquisse grammaticale du rifain oriental (M.S.–Us-
sun Amazigh 16). Paris & Louvain: Peeters.
Lafkioui, Mena. 2007. Atlas linguistique des variétés berbères du Rif (Berber Stu-
dies 16). Köln: Rüdiger Köppe.
Peregil, Francisco. 2016 (Feb. 2). “Jóvenes marroquíes se hacen pasar por sirios
para llegar a Alemania.” El País. 15/2/2016. http://internacional.
elpais.com/internacional/2016/02/12/actualidad/1455272411_933711.html
TABRAT. 2016 (Jan. 3). “«Abrid N Turkia» nouveau single de Jouhan Nouri.”
http://www.tabrat.info/?p=3183

Sources
Ahmed Amzian: 2016 Kochi Youya Torkia. https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=lLUzt1-zL6Y [published 24/11/2015]
Jouhan Nouri: Abred N Turkia [clip official] 2016. https://www.youtube.
com/watch?v=WW-GwgkUdN4 [published 3/1/2016]
Soufian: Turkya, New Single, Disco Nador. https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=utg-KnX50XU [published 3/11/2015]
Soufian Bousaidi: 2016 Turkia Arif ino. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v
=TgNtZ-MZbMI [published 12/11/2015]
Tarik Tito: turkia 2016. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncWVm DwF3Mo
[published 7/11/2015]