Rachida El Garani, a Belgian-Moroccan filmmaker, turned personal trauma into art, from surviving an abusive marriage to winning international awards with her films Into Darkness and Rachid. Now, she is developing a deeply personal feature on forced marriage and domestic violence, determined to break taboos and tell her story on her own terms. On the night of February 29, 1960, Cinema Salam in Agadir was screening a Laurel and Hardy film. A 17-year-old Taroudant-native young man was among the many who decided not to miss the movie that evening. A wish that saved his life, and that of many others who took shelter in the cinema, one of the few buildings left standing while the rest of the city was flattened. That young man is Belgium-born filmmaker, scriptwriter, and actress Rachida El Garani's father, who survived the devastating Agadir earthquake thanks to his love of cinema. And that is how his immigration story began. Traumatized forever by the catastrophe, he decided to leave for Europe. In 1961, he set sail for France to work in the coal mines, and one year later moved to Belgium, to Genk, a city of coal miners. «But he never forgot the horror», shared Rachida in a candid interview with Yabiladi, «the thousands of dead, the bodies in the streets, the smell of death that lingered. Even today, at 82 years old, he has tears in his eyes whenever he talks about it». Growing up between two worlds In that same Flemish city, Rachida was born as the eldest of eight siblings - seven girls and one boy. «We spent magical summers in Morocco, so Taroudant and Agadir are part of my earliest memories», she recalls. Quickly, Rachida realized she was part of two cultures. «In Belgium, society reminded me I wasn't really Belgian, and in Morocco, I wasn't fully Moroccan either; I spoke differently, dressed differently, behaved differently», she recalls. That was even more visible in school, where she felt put down by her educators. «At school, teachers discouraged me from pursuing higher education because of my immigrant background», she lamented. «They pushed me toward vocational training, suggesting fashion or factory work. My father, trusting the system and not knowing better, believed them». But Rachida loved books, loved reading; she was a bookworm forced to follow a different path. She also loved the camera, cinema, and filming - just like her father, who even played a small role as a child extra in the French-Moroccan film Ali Baba (1953) in his hometown of Taroudant. She was always behind the camera, filming and taking pictures of family gatherings and activities. But although her father loved cinema and movies, for his eldest daughter Rachida, he did not see cinema as a profession. «His vision for me was marriage and domestic life», regretted Rachida. A turning point in Rachida's life. A forced marriage at eighteen She remembers, as if it were yesterday, that summer holiday in Taroudant when she was given a harsh ultimatum by her father. She was only 16. «He forced me to choose between two marriage proposals, and if I didn't make a choice, he would take my passport away and leave me behind in poverty», she remembers. Pressured by family and afraid of being left behind in Morocco, Rachida had to make that choice and get engaged. At eighteen, she married her fiancé from Casablanca, only to find herself domestically abused for two years. «It turned out to be a violent marriage in the worst sense: physical, mental, sexual abuse», she regretted. «Those two years destroyed me to my core, and even today, at fifty, I still carry the trauma», she sadly acknowledged. Rachida had no choice but to flee that marriage. One day, after she was violently beaten up by her husband and spent days in the hospital, she packed and fled Genk. «I fled to Zaventem, near Brussels, and I started a new life, filing for divorce». Despite trying to start over, Rachida's divorce took four years to happen. «He feared losing his residency papers. Back then in Belgium, you had to be married five years to get the right to stay, so he kept delaying the case, afraid divorce would send him back to Morocco», she recalled. Freed from her toxic arranged marriage, Rachida finally found her free will, marrying her childhood friend and living the life she aspired to. For 17 years, she worked in the private sector, had her two daughters, and felt the support she had wished for from her father, but found in her husband. «We've known each other since childhood, we were eight years old, playing together. He was my first love. When I was 16 and my father forced me into marriage, he was 17, too young to marry me. Fate brought us back together; once we found each other again, we never let go. We married and had two beautiful children». Returning to cinema at thirty-six Yet, when she turned 36, she felt something was lacking: her passion for cinema. With the support of her husband, the mother of two decided to go back to school, this time to study something related to images. «I hesitated between film and journalism because I love both, but I followed my passion: cinema». She enrolled at the Royal Institute for Theatre, Cinema and Sound, a Brussels-based School of Arts for audiovisual arts, drama, technical theatre, media, and events. «My husband and I agreed I would quit my job, a hard decision in Europe, where two incomes are often necessary for a decent life. He took on extra work to compensate while I studied three years for a bachelor's and one year for a master's», she said. Rachida's decision to follow her dream and passion paid off very quickly. Her master's graduation film project in 2015, Into Darkness, became a worldwide success. Shot in her parents' hometown Taroudant, the documentary follows a resilient family striving to hold on to hope as yet another member begins to lose their sight. Out of the household, eleven relatives - including the father, who relies on begging to survive - are blind. «The film launched my career, I didn't expect that», she shared. Into Darkness premiered at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA), where it was nominated in both the Best Student Documentary and Kids & Docs categories. It went on to win multiple international awards, including the VAF Wildcard, the Audience Award at the Los Angeles Film Festival, and the Jury Prize at the Trans-Saharan Film Festival in Zagora. It also opened FIDADOC in Agadir and was featured at DOCVILLE's New Talent Showcase, the MOOV Festival, Film'on Kids Festival in Brussels, and the Short Film Corner at Cannes. Recognition in Morocco : A prize of the heart Then Rachida worked in television, making creative documentaries for seven years. «Fiction kept calling me», she said, bringing her to Rachid, her first fiction project. Adapted from the short story by Belgian-Moroccan author Rachida Lamrabet, the movie tells the story of a 21-year-old young man of Moroccan descent, who has one goal: landing a job. In Rashid's journey, Rachida tackles issues related to migration, identity, and the tension between personal dreams and cultural expectations. Since its world premiere at the International Short Film Festival Leuven in Belgium, where it won both the Press and Audience Awards, the film has collected thirteen prizes and continues to shine on the international festival circuit. Honors include two Grand Prix (Tangier and Saïdia), four Jury Prizes for Best Short Fiction (Italy, Spain, Germany), three Best Actor awards, a Special Mention in Zagora, as well as further Audience and Press Awards across Europe and Africa. Her film Rachid was recently selected for the Greater Cleveland Urban Film Festival and is now part of the official lineup at the Marrakech Short Film Festival, where it will screen on Thursday. But the closest prize to Rachida's heart is the one she received in Morocco: the Grand Prix in Tangier last November, the highest recognition one can receive. «As someone who has struggled with two identities, being recognized in Morocco, my parents' and grandparents' country, was the greatest achievement. I cried tears of joy». The success of Rachid paved the way for new projects, including a series adaptation and a feature documentary currently in development. The latter tackles domestic violence and forced marriage, with Rachida telling her own story of being forced into marriage at 18. In My Father's House: A painful collaboration But this project was not without setbacks, especially as it dealt with deep family-centered wounds. Titled In My Father's House, the project began as a deeply personal collaboration with her father. «I framed it as my Belgian-Moroccan family told through my eyes - the eldest daughter's camera, a daughter in exile», she explained. Her father, who built a vast family archive, agreed on one condition: he would only talk about their traumas, the earthquake, growing up fatherless, the intergenerational pain they hand down, if she got him a director's chair and a clapper. She did, buying two chairs with their names and a clapper, and they started shooting. But when COVID hit, everything stalled. Fear of exposure grew once a Moroccan channel came on board. «Family members started warning him: 'What will people say?'… Influenced by my mother and siblings, my father pulled out and stopped speaking to me». For two years, Rachida tried everything, producers, intermediaries, relatives, but they refused. «They believed that if they didn't participate, I wouldn't have a film. I told them never to underestimate creativity: it's my story and I can tell it without their faces». The project collapsed in 2021, leaving her ill and depressed. Therapy helped her find both her voice and her story. «I had never learned to talk about pain; I'd been silent for 30 years about forced marriage and domestic violence. My therapeutic process and creative process moved together; I couldn't think like a storyteller until the pain came out». She rebuilt the film as a Plan B. Winning three Best Pitch awards in South Africa and a grant from the Red Sea Fund confirmed her new direction. Unable to show her family on screen, she decided to cast actors instead. «I turned that obstacle into part of the story: the refusals, the hiding of faces, the difficulty of talking about our past. I'm not blaming my father… two cultures collided, and I'm the generation that says: enough. I won't pass this trauma to my daughters, or to any woman». Today, she is pitching her feature again in Tangier and preparing to shoot mostly in Morocco. She sees her work as both personal and collective healing: «Why can't we talk about pain, emotions, violence? We must break taboos and make the world better for women». She ends with a simple conviction: «Becoming the director of my own life, telling my story because I own it, is the freedom I needed».
