His name is Azzedine Nebil, stage name Azzou. And together with Ismail and DJ Bdri forms the rap group Hood Killer active on the Algerian scene since 1998. Harraga is one of his last tracks, and is dedicated to the youth of the working-class neighbourhood Annaba who have left over the past five years en the route to Sardinia. This song is a journey, "a journey to Sardinia". Azzou says it in his lyrics: "Come on, I'll tell you how we almost didn’t make it." In it there’s everything. The pain of a life with no hope and no choice to practically inevitably burn the border. "My destiny is the boat, but I leave reluctantly, mama forgive me, forgive me father, I love my country, but God has decided for me." The rest is a sort of reportage. The organization of the trip with friends, buying the boat and the GPS, the fear of dying at sea, the prayers, and finally the rescue off the coast of Sardinia. Regarding Italy there is only the detention centre at Elmas, in Cagliari and an expulsion that comes after ten days "which feel more like ten years" for all the humiliation suffered. Washed like paddles, tied up like sheep, and treated like lepers: "An Italian comes to us speaking through gestures, he turns to us from a distance, as if he were afraid of the plague." Even for Azzou, as for Lotfi, the track closes with a thought to the hundreds of young men of Annaba lost at sea. "Thanks be to God we were saved, look at those who died, their life ended with no meaning, a mother waits for a son and a fish has eaten him." Enjoy listening to the track. And enjoy reading the lyrics, because below you will find the entire text translated from Algerian darija into English.
| Harraga Rana michna harraga, ma7gourin min lhem ma7gourin min lfa9r, ma7gourin min l7hogra el lhem ou chommage. Ou choufet rana hne fi bledna bass 7aichin blè ma3na ou 3leh mousta9bel met3na dha3. El masir mte3i houwa el flouka, bass raya7 foug gelbi, yomma sem7ini, baba seme7ni, bledi n7ebbek bas allah ghaleb. Hedhi voyaja, voyaja el Sardinia. Arwa7 na7kilek grib le ro7na feha. Estanna rabby ou b3inina chofna el mout. Yokolni el doud ou meiekelnich el 7out! El biben ma9foula ou da3wa mahlouka. Gult mei: “Foukha ghir el harba fi flouka.” Mele tlemine fi 3achra min nes, chrina flouka, motour ou GPS. 5airna el risk 5atalk el koul triste puisque 3aichin fil hem 3alla piste. Mele b3id 3alla plage ou b3id 3al cap tlighine fi 3achia el koul fi Wed Bou9rat. Fi flouka g3adna face a face b5adhna, lbled mta3 zit ou el capa ou el mekla m3ana. Ki s5oun el moutour el bred ken fi ghelbi. “Ye weldi - yomma t3aiet - weldi golli.” Ndemet bsa7, ouchia el flouka mchet, fakkretni ouch9asit fi hedhe el 7ayet, fakkretni fil diplome eli 3omri me7dimt bih, m3alleg fil 7it nebki ki nchouf lih, tfakert el fo9r choufet ou ltahrag goult: “Koun nog3ad lehne nwelli serra9.” Fil flouka 9rit ouchna3ref mil 9oren nsit chweye min hemmi ou nsit eli ken. Hedhi voyaja, voyaja el Sardinia. Arwa7 na7kilek grib le ro7na feha. Estanna rabby ou b3inina chofna el mout. Yokolni el doud ou meiekelnich el 7out! 4 soueya3 na7kilek apris dima raje lb7ar ken kalm ou zid ba3d hej, les vagues darrou bina miskina seffina melgetech eddir bina. Est ce que nebkiou 3alehe wele hia tebki 3alina? Na7kilek el mout chofneha me bin 3inina, el ma d5al lil flouka 5arrijneha bil bidoun, 7bess el Gps, 7bess ettelifoun. Eli kouna harib minhom tmenit ya7kmouna, ness bissouaredha lil mout eb3athouna. El temma a5reft ro7i miit ou golt: “3omri ra7” fakkert oueldia ou tlobt minhom sme7, lmzia rabbi, soub7annou, mensenech, d3aou el weldin ouaslo blè Gps. Chofna babour jei min lib3id, frra7na ou 3aiatna ou goulna: “Espoir jdid” rja3t fina rou7. Tel3ouna ou weklouna, deouena ou ghattouna, el sardinia waslouna, far7an bas meni fehem wellou. Arwa7 na7kilek s7aibi fina oujderou Hedhi voyaja, voyaja el Sardinia. Arwa7 na7kilek grib le ro7na feha. Estanna rabby ou b3inina chofna el mout. Yokolni el doud ou meiekelnich el 7out! Ghaslouna kima itaghsel gasch el bala bkit 3al ouled bledi fi hedh el 7ala, rabtouna kil ghnem ou deouna li center ebki ye Yoghurta ebki ye 3antar, pourtant rani dzazairi ou ghelbi 7ar ma5reftech kifech armit rou7i fi nar, ou goulou 3alia 7arrag ou ene houwa el ma7roug iefhemni ghir eli jerreb kifi ene ou idhou9. 3addeou 3achra eyem fi centre tgoul 3achra snin fil bled 7attouna fil la3bed el maf9oudin, weldinne michhom 3arfin meitini wele 7ayn akhtar min 7rigt el miit 7rigt el ghaybin. Jene talieni yakhi m3ana bili geste, yahdher min lib3id tgoul 5aief min la peste. El temma fhemt belibeside ou zar9ouna lemouna kil bagages beh lbled leiraj3ouna. Ahna kimeken el 7amdoullah rana mna3na chouf eli metou ou 7iethom fardet ble ma3na, el oum eli testana fi weldha ou l7out kleh. Ye jeune idhe dhia9at 3alik arja3 lillah. Hedhi voyaja, voyaja el Sardinia. Arwa7 na7kilek grib le ro7na feha. Estanna rabby ou b3inina chofna el mout. Yokolni el doud ou meiekelnich el 7out! | Harraga We left harraga, exhausted from disgrace and exhausted from misery, exhausted from contempt, from disgrace and from unemployment. But you see we are in our country yet we live without meaning, the future is already lost. My destiny is the boat, but I leave reluctantly, Forgive me mother, forgive me father, My country, I love you, but God has decided for me. This is a journey, a journey to Sardinia. Come and I'll tell you how we almost didn’t make it. God saved us, we saw death with our own eyes. May the worms eat me and not the fish! The doors are closed and destiny is in ruins. I said to myself: "All that’s left to do is to run away on a boat." We gathered together a group of ten we bought a boat, a motor and a GPS, We chose risk, because all of us were sad to live in disgrace, So, far from the beaches we got together in the afternoon in Oued Bouqrat. We sat in the boat face to face among ourselves, with us we had oil bins and food. The engine was hot, but my heart was cold. "My son - my mother called - tell me my son. " I was really sorry, but now the boat was gone, reminding me of what I went through in this life, I was reminded of the diploma with which I never worked, that still hangs on the wall and I cry just looking at it, I was reminded of poverty which I saw when I said: "If I stay here I will become a thief." On the boat I read what I knew of the Qur’an for a while I forgot my misfortunes and I forgot the past. This is a journey, a journey to Sardinia. Come and I'll tell you how we almost didn’t make it. God saved us, we saw death with our own eyes. May the worms eat me and not the fish! Four hours that I tell you of in anger, the sea was calm but then it swelled, The waves came upon us poor boat it did not know what to do with us. Were we weeping for her or was she weeping for us? Let me tell you, we saw the death between our eyes, water had entered the boat we threw it out using the bins, the GPS had shut off, the mobile phone had shut off. Those from whom we were running away, now I hoped would come stop us, the guys had taken our money to send us to our deaths. There I believed I was dead, I said to myself "My life is gone" and I thought of my parents and asked for their forgiveness, but luckily the Lord, praise be upon him, did not forget us, and our parents’ prayers reached us, even without the GPS We saw a ship coming from afar, We cheered and we cried, we said to ourselves: "New Hope" and our soul returned to us. We were boarded and we were fed, we were treated and we were covered and in Sardinia we were taken, happy but not understanding anything. Come and I'll tell you what happened This is a journey, a journey to Sardinia. Come and I'll tell you how we almost didn’t make it. God saved us, we saw death with our own eyes. May the worms eat me and not the fish! We were washed like one washes a shovel, and I cried watching the children of my country in this state, they tied us like sheep and took us to the centre, Jugurtha weeps, Antar* weeps, yet I am Algerian and my heart is warm I do not understand how it could throw me into the fire, they tell me I am a harrag But I'm the one that burned and only those who went through it and tasted it can understand me. Ten days went by in the centre but you would have said ten years, back home we were listed among the missing, our parents did not know if we were dead or alive, and the pain burns stronger for the missing than for the dead. An Italian comes to us who speaks through gestures, he turns to us from a distance as if he were afraid of the plague. There I understood, they collected us like one collects luggage to be returned to our country. Thanks be to God we were saved, look at those who died, their life is over without meaning, A mother waits for her son and a fish has eaten him. Guys, if you are in trouble return to God. This is a journey, a journey to Sardinia. Come and I'll tell you how we almost didn’t make it. God saved us, we saw death with our own eyes. May the worms eat me and not the fish! |
* Jugurtha was a Berber king of Numidia who in the second century BC, waged war against the Roman empire in the region of what is now Algeria. Antar is a famous pre-Islamic Arab poet, who lived in the sixth century AC.