Being Kabyle

I'm Kabyle, and I'm tired of being mistaken as mixed asian or white, here's what being Kabyle means

My grandmother has tattoos all over her body, including her hands, and my friend’s grandmother has her face tattooed. It’s a ritual in our land that the most beautiful women get tattooed. We are Kabyle. We were in northern Africa before the arabs and before the turks; we are indigenous Africans.

When I walk down the street, people stop me to ask me if I’m asian, when I go into the more northern african neighborhoods of Marseille, I’m met with kind eyes and spoken exclusively in Arabic, the language I was supposed to be raised with if my family hadn’t abandoned their language and culture when they moved in France in the 70s for fear of persecution, after living for years in camps.

I fear that my representation is nonexistent. I’m on the side of Substack, where I see beautiful black women showing themselves and their black beauty shamelessly (as they should), but I don’t see any arabs or Kabyle on this app just yet. I fear it’s just me, so let me tell you our story.

Kabyles are not arabs; they’re Berberes, which is a global term meaning indigenous from Africa. Berberes regroup a lot of different tribes from the northern African continent. Kabyles tend to be more pale than arabs, almost white in the winter but with a deep golden tan in the summer, with slented eyes, which makes us look almost asian, big cheeks that completely switch our faces when we smile (we have those smile lines in our cheeks, it’s very cute).

It’s estimated that over 7 million of us still exist, and yet I see them nowhere on social media, I see them all over pornhub though where the most researched item is ‘beurette’ which means arab woman in racist french.

See, we are not arabs, but we feel arab. After the conquest of Algeria by the arabs, we were mixed with them, so none of us is fully 100% Kabyle, and since we still come from Algeria, we feel the same kind of kinship towards one another.

We are from the mountains up north (which is why we’re so pale) and managed to stay independent through the rule of the Romans, Byzantines, and Turks. We have such a different culture and only converted to Islam in the past few centuries, which means our grandparents, while sometimes Muslim or Jewish, keep their witchcraft and indigenous practices passed down from generation to generation.

It’s funny because whenever I meet a Kabyle, we look so alike we could be cousins or siblings. I have two Kabyle friends, one who is a guy of Jewish descent, and another girl of Muslim descent, and with our big round cheeks and small eyes, full lips and pale skin we all look so alike contrary to the rest of the people around us who always think we look so different from everyone else.

I’m Kabyle through my dad, my mom is Polish, (there’s really nothing French about me, I swear) and most days I wished that there was more representation for my people in media, even arabs, I’ll take it. Every day, I wish I could read a book written by an arab about arab feminism, but for now, I’ll stick to Toni Morrison and Bell Hooks.

I’ve already written an article about my grandparents living in concentration camps when they arrived in France, so I invite you to read that article to know more about the condition of Algerians during the Algerian civil war.

I’m lucky to be living in Marseille, a city filled with people of different heritages who respect each other’s differences, and where I have never experienced racism (apart from police officers). I love this city from the bottom of my heart, and if you’re someone who’s ever been persecuted for your skin color, we will welcome you with open arms, no matter what language you speak.

From Marseille with Love,

*vapes away*