My Dream -

A dream rooted in Meski

I Do Not Dream
of Having Everything

I dream of being able to do something good with what I have.

I am not asking for wealth. Of course, money would make many projects easier.

What I want first is simpler: to be able to care for my family and to do things that are useful to people.

Meski is a large part of that dream.

If financial limits disappeared tomorrow, I would continue working with the land. Date palms. Olive trees. Sidr. Pistachio trees.

I would plant more. I would cultivate. I would watch things grow.

I like the beauty of cultivation, even knowing how hard the work can be.

A quiet traditional passage opening toward the oasis of Meski

What I hold dear

The Pillars
of My Dream

Not a plan on paper. The things I hope remain underneath whatever I build.

Land

To cultivate with patience and respect.

Family

To provide, protect, teach and remain close.

Culture

To keep language, gestures, hospitality and memory alive.

Faith

To live with gratitude, responsibility and Islam at the centre.

Hospitality

To welcome people as family, not as customers passing through.

Future

To leave knowledge and values for those who come after us.

Date palms and cultivated family land in Meski

The land

To Preserve.
To Cultivate.
To Share.

I grew up among date palms. My own project later grew around honey.

Dates and honey are not the whole dream, but they belong naturally inside it. They are foods I love, foods I enjoy studying, tasting and offering.

I would like more Medjool palms. More sidr. More olives. Pistachio trees too.

I would also like animals to remain part of this world. Horses. Camels. Bees.

I have always wanted a black Arabian horse. I know what that dream costs, so I do not pretend it is simple.

I would also love to have camels one day. They have their own place in Arab culture, and even producing camel milk would feel like a continuation rather than an attraction.

Something useful

A Mosque.
A Well.

If I had the means, one project would be very clear in my mind.

I would build a mosque at the entrance of Meski, with a well.

Not as a monument to me. Not to put my name somewhere.

Simply something that could be useful.

That matters to me more than building something impressive.

Editorial architectural sketch of a modest mosque and well imagined for the entrance of Meski

A simple traditional Meski-style majlis built with brick and earth finishes

The house I imagine

A Home With Purpose

I would not build a palace.

I would stay close to the old language of the place. Brick. Earth over the walls. A traditional majlis. A room where I can sit and feel the atmosphere.

I have already asked my mother once to have an old-style oven made for me in the garden.

She did.

And she made bread in it for me.

That is exactly the kind of thing I mean. Not pretending that the old life has returned. Just keeping certain gestures close enough to live them again.

I know we cannot recreate old Meski exactly. I do not want to fake it.

I want to preserve enough of its feeling that people can understand why it mattered.

The dream, lived

Not Behind Glass

Culture means more to me when someone can experience a gesture, not only look at it.

Traditional bread made in an old-style earthen oven — **Bread** Made the old way when possible.

Traditional tea preparation continuing a family gesture — **Tea** A gesture that can still be passed on.

Bees moving around a hive in the family garden — **Bees** To show children how much life can exist in a small place.

A shared family meal served in the traditional way — **Hospitality** To receive as family, not as a simple visitor.

Hands working and cultivating the land in Meski — **Cultivation** Hard work, but something beautiful to understand.

For my daughter

I Can Teach.
She Will Choose.

I would be happy if one day she continued part of what I am building.

I can even imagine The House of Meski becoming part of her own work, with her horses close to her.

But that is my dream. Her life belongs to her.

I can teach her. I can explain. I can show her what I received.

Then she chooses.

Not everyone likes chocolate. If we all liked the same thing, we would all eat the same food and wear the same clothes.

I want her to be free. I also hope she knows where she comes from.

I would like to make her studies easier too, whether that means having a place in Rabat, in Dubai, or wherever her path takes her.

And yes, I still want to give my cavalière her horse.

A personal photograph connecting the author's daughter with Meski — A future should be transmitted without being imposed.

The House of Meski

A Project
That Became a Dream

At the beginning, The House of Meski was not supposed to become all of this.

It came from pleasure.

Then little by little, I understood what the project could become.

A way to share Meski with people far away. A way to show culture, artisans, food, hospitality, agriculture and the values around them.

Modern life makes this possible. That is one of the things I love about it.

You can see a culture from far away.
Living it is another treasure.

A calm vision of Meski as a place of land, hospitality, craft and transmission

The Fortress of Memories

I Never Planned
to Open This Door

The Fortress of Memories was not part of the original plan.

It arrived little by little.

And it made me do something I do not usually do.

Open the door of my heart to the world.

I began to understand that one day, a descendant of ours may want to know how the people before them actually lived.

Not only what a researcher wrote from outside.

But how the house felt. What we ate. What we heard. What made us laugh. What we lost. What we kept.

A culture described from outside can teach a lot. A culture remembered from inside can tell you how it felt to live it.

An editorial arrangement of family photographs, written memories and traces of Meski

What I hope remains

Not Only Things

Respect Sharing Culture Language Hospitality Islam

Anyone can buy a house. Anyone can buy a motorcycle.

But a way of living with people cannot simply be bought.

What I received from my grandfather and my father was not handed to me as an object.

It was in the way people were welcomed. The respect. The life shared with others. The love of nature. The culture around us.

I do not need to add something grand to that chain.

I would already be happy if respect, culture, sharing and the ability to find happiness with little continue after me.

What I call failure

Not Getting Everything
Is Not Failure

A project that does not work can still teach me something.

I do not call that failure.

The failure that matters to me would be behaving badly with people or knowing that I caused harm.

The rest belongs to rizq.

If Allah allows something, I receive it.

If something does not come, even when I wanted it, I try to accept that too.

I will still work. I will still try.

But I do not want my peace to depend on possessing everything I once imagined.

Fine editorial sketch of a future Meski garden with palms, trees and a well

One day

I Would Like to Sit
in the Garden and Look at the Palms

Older. Still in Meski.

Looking at the date palms.

Going back and forth to Mecca when I can.

I would love to have my parents, the children, dear friends who became family, and the whole family around me.

I know life does not allow us to keep every person in every place forever.

So I do not need the ending of this dream to be a list of everything I managed to build.

If I reach that day, I hope I can simply thank Allah for what I received and for what I did not receive.

And ask His forgiveness.

Alhamdulillah.

My Dream

I Do Not Dream
of Having Everything

The Pillars
of My Dream