𝑰𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂, 𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒑𝒆́𝒓𝒂 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒆 : "𝚄𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎"

 𝑰𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂, 𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒑𝒆́𝒓𝒂 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒆 d'Anouar Benmalek (Ed. Emmanuelle Collas) : "𝚄𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚜𝚎... 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚏-𝚍’𝚘𝚎𝚞𝚟𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚝 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐."

                    par 𝗔𝗿𝗲𝘇𝗸𝗶 𝗠𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗳, 𝑳𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒊𝒓 𝒅'𝑨𝒍𝒈𝒆́𝒓𝒊𝒆, 𝟹0 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝟸0𝟸𝟼

ㅤ

ㅤ𝗢𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗓 𝖠𝗇𝗈𝗎𝖺𝗋 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾́𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝖾̀𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾́𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗂 𝗅’𝗎𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾́𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼̧𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾.

ㅤ𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖼 𝐼𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑎, 𝑢𝑛 𝑜𝑝𝑒́𝑟𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑒, 𝗅’𝖾́𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾́𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖾́𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾́ 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗁𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

ㅤ𝖰𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖽'𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗎𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖢'𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝗊𝗎'𝗂𝗅 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗎 𝖺̀ 𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌'𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖫𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗎𝗅𝗍𝖺𝗍 ? 𝖴𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗂𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾, 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖾𝗎𝗏𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎̀ 𝗅𝖺 𝗇𝖾́𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾́ 𝗇’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌 s𝖾𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖼𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗅𝖾.

ㅤ𝖫’𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 ; 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗌. 𝖣𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗋𝖾́𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖾́𝗍𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝗎𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖽’𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖠𝗅𝗀𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗇’𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾, 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗄 𝖽𝖾́𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗂𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗌.

ㅤ𝖠̀ 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝖽’𝖨𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖺, 𝖼’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝖷𝖷𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖾̀𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎’𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝖾. 𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗉𝖾𝗅 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝖼𝗂 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗎 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝗈𝖾̀𝗍𝖾.

ㅤ𝖫𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗂𝗍𝖾, 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾, 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗌𝖾. 𝖨𝗅 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾̀𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖾̀𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝖾́𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖾̂𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋. 𝖢’𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝖾́𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗎𝗋𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖾 — 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾́𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗀𝖾 —, 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽'𝗎𝗇 𝗅𝗒𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗅'𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾́𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍.

ㅤ𝖫’𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇-𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾́𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖾 𝗏𝖺-𝖾𝗍-𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾 «𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗊𝗎𝖾 » 𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾. 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗄 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅’𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖽’𝗎𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾́𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗌'𝖾́𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗂𝗋 𝖾́𝗍𝖾́ 𝗉𝖾𝗌𝖾́, 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾́𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗇'𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗊𝗎'𝖺𝗎𝗑 𝗈𝖾𝗎𝗏𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾́.

ㅤ𝐼𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗋𝖾 𝖽'𝗎𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗌. 𝖲𝗂 𝗅’𝗈𝖾𝗎𝗏𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾́𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂 𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗅’𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂. 𝖤𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗅’𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖼𝗋𝖾́, 𝗅'𝖺𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾́𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾, 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗋𝖾́ 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖾.

ㅤ𝖫’𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾, 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖼’𝖾́𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗑 𝖺̀ 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖿 𝖽’œ𝗎𝗏𝗋𝖾

𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖾𝗍 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀.

𝖠. 𝖬.