As a 23-year-old born and raised in Brussels, I always feel deeply connected to my Moroccan roots. Whenever I return to Morocco to visit my family, I immediately feel at home. 

The vibrant colors and addicting aromas of the souks, the enchanting flavors of traditional dishes prepared with care and love, bring a flow of warm memories and traditions deeply rooted in my heart. And the sound of my mother tongue, which sounds like a melody that touches the deepest layers of my soul, connects me to my ancestors and reminds me of the stories and songs that have been passed down through the years. 

Still, after a few days in this country that affects me so much, I get a gut-wrenching feeling. I start to miss Belgium, especially my hometown of Anderlecht, where I grew up and forged strong ties with friends and family. Every visit to Morocco is a journey full of nostalgia, joy, and reunions. I let myself get carried away by the warmth of the welcome, by the richness of the culture, but I can't help but think of my home in Brussels. 

This inner struggle reflects my complex identity, my connection to two countries. To me, it means being a child of immigrants, navigating two cultures that sometimes seem to clash, but are inseparably connected to my heart. Every trip between Morocco and Belgium becomes an introspective journey, a discovery of myself. And although my heart is torn between two countries, I know that it is precisely this duality that makes me so unique.  

Translation: Asmae Maataoui 

Revision: Ingrid Inkindi Dusenge