Where solidarity breaks the fast in Réghaïa
As sunset approaches in Réghaïa, a quiet buzz fills the courtyard of the Rahma restaurant known as Abir Sabil. Under a large tent, long tables wait patiently for the evening guests. Plates are neatly arranged, dates and bread placed with care, and glasses of milk stand ready small gestures that carry a big message of kindness during Ramadan.
Inside the improvised kitchen, the air is thick with the comforting aroma of chorba simmering in large pots. Volunteers move quickly, setting tables and stirring soup, their faces tired but glowing with purpose. It’s all hands on deck before the call to prayer.
At the heart of the effort is Fathi, a cook from southern Algeria, directing the final preparations. “We start early every day,” he says with a smile. “It’s hard work, but when people leave satisfied, the fatigue melts away.” Each evening, more than a hundred meals are served with extra portions packed for families in need.
Young volunteers add a spark to the atmosphere. Samir, a university student lending a hand for the first time, laughs as he carries trays of steaming dishes. “We work hard, but the spirit here is incredible,” he says. “It feels like one big family.”
As the sky slowly darkens, the guests begin to arrive: construction workers still in their dusty clothes, elderly men wrapped in traditional cloaks, students far from home. Many greet the volunteers like old friends.
Abdelkader, a construction worker from Azazga, rarely misses a night. “I work far from home,” he explains. “Here, it’s not just a warm meal it’s respect. You feel like you belong.”
Moments later, the call to prayer echoes through the neighborhood. Conversations fade, hands lift briefly in prayer, and the fast is gently broken. Dates are shared, glasses of water passed around, and bowls of hot soup quickly follow.
In this humble Rahma restaurant, iftar is more than dinner. It is proof that when hearts come together, generosity speaks louder than words and solidarity is always on the menu.