I feel silly writing this letter, because you couldn’t even read it anyway, even if you were alive. After all, you couldn’t read, and even if you could read, it wouldn’t be in a language you would understand. It’s been almost 20 years since you died. There is much strife in the bled and the world. Climate change has changed Algeria’s climate. I feel ashamed that I don’t know how to cook the foods you used to cook. There is a hole in our family since you died. I am sorry Emma Nour, and I wasn’t there with you when you passed. I know you missed us because you talked about us in your last words, and it wasn’t our choice not to be there, as we were only 8 and 6 when you died. I do not think my father was able to admit to himself that you were leaving for good. Your passing left a hole in our family. He still can’t say or even think about the word cancer without getting angry. When the news came out that King Charles had been diagnosed with cancer, people were posting how mean it was that people were laughing at his cancer diagnosis, that it was insensitive to cancer patients, but I thought you would have found it funny because of how much you liked Princess Diana and hated mean men so I laughed, imaging ow much you would have laughed too. Sometimes I am glad you are not here. There is a lot of strife in our family, mainly between relatives who think other relatives have money when they don’t. Uncle Tayeb is part of a weird cult and doesn’t go to Eid prayers anymore. Mostly, I am glad you are not here to witness the genocide in Gaza. It’s the worst thing I have ever seen, and the images, videos, and stories are so harrowing. The IOF soldiers murdered a 94-year-old lady with dementia, and I cried, thinking you would have been her age if you had lived. I see Palestinian grandmothers, and I see you.
Sometimes I wish you were here, to meet your great-grandkids, one of whom is also named Aicha. (It’s Abdel-Ghani’s first child if you were wondering; he was the only one of any of us to have a large family.) For our college graduations. For Eid. Your grave is still visited, and I hope you like your tree. Oh, and your friend Baqta says salaam; she’s a very nice lady. I have way more Algerian clothes than I ever did, and I try and wear them more and more. This year, I wore them a lot during Ramadan. The only reason I don’t wear white more is that I get stains much more easily than you because I am not as graceful as you. I will try and pray for you more, but it feels hollow just because you will always be so much more pious than us. Even if I prayed perfectly on time every day, I don’t think I can ever feel as pious as you.
May Allah envelope you with love
Your granddaughter Aicha