Quand mon Fils m'a Demandé ce que Signifiait son Prénom en Tifinagh

When My Son Asked Me What His First Name Meaned in Tifinagh

It happened last summer, during the holidays in Agadir. Yassine, my son, was looking at my Tifinagh necklace and frowning.

"What's this, Mom? They look like weird drawings."

Ouch. My own son didn't recognize his ancestors' handwriting. Worse, he found it "weird." I knew then that something had to be done.

That same evening, I called my partner: "We need to expand the Tifinagh collection. Seriously. Our children are forgetting who they are."

A writing that comes from afar

My parents taught me Tifinagh when I was little. Not at school—it didn't exist back then—but at home, on Sunday afternoons. My father would write the characters on a slate: "This is your heritage. Never forget where you come from."

Today, it's officially recognized. It's taught in some schools. But in reality? How many young Moroccans actually know how to read and write Tifinagh? Not many.

Our necklaces are our way of participating in the movement. Discreetly, elegantly, without lecturing anyone.

How to proceed for each order

When a client asks us for her first name in Tifinagh, we don't do it lightly. First, we check the translation with Ms. Bouchra, an Amazigh language professor at Hassan II University. She has been helping us from the beginning.

Then, our artisans reproduce each character by hand. No 3D printing or laser cutting. It's real engraving, just like our grandfathers did on Berber jewelry of yesteryear.

The result? Each necklace is unique, even if it's the same name. The small differences in the engraving are what make craftsmanship so charming.

Customers who surprise us

Last week, a French woman of Moroccan origin ordered a necklace from me with her daughter's first name: "Inès" in Tifinagh. She explained to me:

"My daughter is 16 years old, she was born in Lyon. She barely speaks Arabic and not Tamazight at all. But I want her to wear at least this, as a reminder."

It touched me. This mother who tries to pass on what she can, with the means at her disposal.

Or Malika, a journalist at 2M, who wears her Tifinagh necklace every day at work: "My colleagues always ask me what it means. It starts interesting conversations about our heritage."

Gold, because it deserves the best

Some customers ask us why we don't offer these necklaces in silver or plated metal. My answer is simple: Tifinagh has 3,000 years of history. It deserves better than a metal that will turn black after six months.

18-karat gold guarantees that in twenty years, when your daughter or granddaughter inherits this piece of jewelry, it will still be as beautiful. It's an investment in passing it on.

What changed with my son

Since I started explaining the history of Tifinagh to him, Yassine has become more interested in it. He now knows how to write his first name. He draws the characters in his school notebooks.

The other day he said to me, "Mom, can you make me a bracelet with my name like on your necklace?"

Mission accomplished. Transmission continues.

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