I was born in the desert to a nomadic family, in Matarat, at the heart of the Tassili N’Ajjer mountains, at the beginning of the spring rainy season. In my youth, I tended to sheep and camels with my grandparents. In my nomadic life, nothing in the world was more captivating than a caravan winding through the sands, or more moving than the poetry of a nomadic camp at nightfall when fires lit up and herds returned. This sacred hour when dunes and sky merged their colors ignited by the setting sun. It was also the most beautiful to fall asleep every night under a protective sky, a sky sprinkled with millions of stars that illuminated my dreams.