Dating back to the Bronze Age, approximately between the 3rd and early 1st millennia BC, this discovery sheds light on the development of early communities in the area.

The findings include artifacts that suggest a complex society with distinct cultural practices, providing valuable information about the social and economic structures of the time. This discovery not only enhances our understanding of the Western Rif’s role in ancient civilizations but also contributes to the broader history of human settlement in North Africa.

Researchers are excited about the potential to uncover more about the lives of those who lived in this region thousands of years ago.

Just a few minutes later, I saw Jugurtha portrayed by a Black actor. This was disappointing to me. I understand that movies are not documentaries, and directors take creative liberties. For example, adding sharks to the Colosseum might not be historically accurate, but it can still be entertaining. However, casting a Black actor to play Jugurtha—a distinctly Berber historical figure—felt like an extension of an Afro-centrist narrative that erases North Africa’s indigenous identity.

The same issue arose with the portrayal of Macrinus, —a name which being derived from the Amazigh word Mukran, meaning “the chief” or “the elder,—. Both Jugurtha and Macrinus were Amazigh from Western North Africa, yet Ridley Scott cast Black actors for their roles. It was even more frustrating to see Macrinus—who was a skilled and strategic emperor—depicted as a hateful character. The film falsely claimed that he was a former slave (which he was not) and that he killed Geta to seize power.

In reality, Geta was killed by his own brother, Caracalla, during a power struggle. Caracalla himself was later assassinated by a soldier named Justin Martialis. Gladiator 2 ignored these historical facts entirely. Additionally, the film reduced Macrinus’s reign to less than a day, when in reality, he ruled for nearly a year in a significant period of Roman history.

As a North African and a Amazigh, what message am I supposed to take from this? That to become an emperor or an African ruler, one must first be a slave? That if a North African does rise to power, it must be through deceit or violence, and that their rule will be short-lived? These portrayals are not just historically inaccurate; they reinforce troubling stereotypes.

Beyond this, the film’s depiction of Berbers was lazy and inaccurate. They were shown speaking Arabic—a language that did not exist in North Africa at the time—and even using Islamic references, despite Islam not yet existing in that era. Their clothing also resembled Middle Eastern or desert attire rather than authentic Amazigh garments.

Hollywood continues to ignore the true identity of North Africans, often portraying us as either Arabs or Black Africans when we are neither. This disregard for historical accuracy and cultural authenticity is not just disappointing—it is a disservice to our heritage and history.

Dating back dozens of years, the manuscripts highlight the enduring presence of the Tifinagh script, a cornerstone of Amazigh identity across the Sahel. For centuries, the Tuareg have safeguarded their language and customs through such writings, preserving a legacy that remains under threat in modern times.

The footage underscores the cultural and historical significance of these texts, reinforcing the need for greater efforts to protect and promote Amazigh heritage. As globalization and regional instability pose challenges to indigenous knowledge systems, such rare artifacts serve as a powerful reminder of the resilience and rich history of the Tuareg people

In 2013, he released a compilation of songs recorded in Tchintabaraden, Niger, further cementing his presence in the Tuareg music scene. Today, he balances performing at local weddings in Agadez with sold-out shows in venues like the Sinclair in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Moctar, along with other artists contributing to the international expansion of Tuareg music, reaches starkly different audiences. From Niger to North America, Tuareg music has found its place in a variety of local and global music scenes. However, many Western listeners may not fully grasp the political and social messages embedded in the music. Often, the genre is viewed through a romanticized lens, overshadowing its deeper historical and cultural significance.

Eric J. Schmidt, Assistant Director of the African Studies Center at Boston University and a Ph.D. in ethnomusicology, highlights the marketing strategies that shape perceptions of Tuareg artists. “A lot of it has to do with the music industry’s marketing,” he notes. Like many Tuareg musicians signed by French or American labels, Mdou Moctar’s social media presence is largely managed by Western representatives. Schmidt explains that the industry constructs narratives that, while not entirely false, often distort or exaggerate aspects of Tuareg culture. “There are these evocative phrases that people use—it’s part of what drew me to it in the first place.”

Western fascination with Tuareg music often parallels the American legacy of rock ‘n’ roll as a form of protest music. As Schmidt points out, “Rock ‘n’ roll was once seen as rebellious, and now you have musicians who have participated in actual rebellions.”

Tuaregs from Niger and Mali share complex political histories, though their struggles have evolved differently. The internationally renowned band Tinariwen, founded by Ibrahim Ag Alhabib from Tessalit, paved the way for emerging Tuareg artists. While not all Tuareg musicians come from backgrounds of resistance fighters—unlike Ag Alhabib, who witnessed his father’s execution at age four and later fought in Libya—Tinariwen’s impact on Tuareg music has been profound. Their lyrics, often centered on exile, have positioned them as symbols of Tuareg struggle.

Schmidt writes, “The group’s growing fame paved the way for many other Tuareg acts to achieve international recognition, such as Terakaft, Tamikrest, Bombino, Mdou Moctar, and Koudede.”

Benjamin Minniear, a dedicated fan of Moctar’s latest album Ilana (The Creator), recalls how he discovered Tuareg music. “Prior to finding Mdou Moctar, I listened to Tinariwen, starting with their Amassakoul album, then Emmaar and Elwan.”

Niger has produced its own legends, from the late Abdallah Ag Oumbadougou to Bombino. As newer artists emerge, their music increasingly reflects the nomadic life of the Tuareg people. Moctar’s performances transcend borders, introducing American audiences to the genre. On March 28, he played at Mass MoCA’s Solid Sound Festival. Bill Crosby, a front-row attendee, shared his excitement: “I was really eager to hear Mdou Moctar play… I’m a fan of Tinariwen, Ali Farka Touré, and Mahmoud Guinia, so the syncopated rhythms weren’t new to me.” Contrary to the assumption that American audiences stumble upon Tuareg concerts by chance, many attendees are deeply familiar with the genre.

The term ishumar describes the music of young, uprooted Tuareg men who traveled from town to town with their guitars. Derived from the French word chômeur (unemployed), ishumar became a defining label for the generation of musicians following Tinariwen’s rise. While Moctar’s style leans towards electrified rock rather than traditional “desert blues,” he continues the ishumar legacy of using music as a tool for empowerment.

In the mid-1980s, Tuareg activists, allied with the son of Niger’s first post-independence president, attempted a rebellion in Tchintabaraden, Moctar’s hometown. More serious insurrections followed in the 1990s, coinciding with Niger’s shift towards democracy after decades of French-backed authoritarian rule. Yvan Guichaoua, a researcher on Tuareg insurgencies, notes in his publication Circumstantial Alliances and Loose Loyalties in Rebellion Making: The Case of Tuareg Insurgency in Northern Niger, that these events shaped Tuareg identity and activism. Understanding this historical backdrop enriches the listening experience for Moctar’s fans. Yet, as Minniear points out, the music itself often conveys emotion beyond language. “Even without understanding the lyrics, the vocal inflections and harmonies speak to me.”

Younger generations of Tuareg musicians, particularly those following in the footsteps of Bombino and Mdou Moctar, prove that the genre isn’t limited to slow, meditative melodies—it also thrives at faster tempos. Fortunately, many Tuareg artists with Western PR representation manage to attract global audiences without relying on the orientalist tropes sometimes found in media portrayals.

Kendra Amalie, a fan whose artwork was reposted on Moctar’s Instagram page, shares how she discovered his music: “When Anar came out in 2014, a friend introduced me to Sahel Sounds. I started following Mdou Moctar and buying his music. He’s among my top three favorite contemporary guitarists.” Amalie’s story highlights how Tuareg music serves as an entry point for Western audiences to learn about the Tuareg people and their culture. “I only learned about the Tuareg people after coming across Sahel Sounds and Mdou Moctar.”

Contemporary Tuareg music has evolved beyond traditional tisiwit—a form of classical poetry sung solo or accompanied by the anzad, a one-stringed violin played by women. Amalie reflects on her concert experiences: “I’ve seen Mdou Moctar twice and Les Filles de Illighadad once. It’s celebratory and electrifying. So much modern music feels sterile and pretentious—Tuareg concerts bring back the magic.”

The atmosphere of Tuareg performances in Niger is markedly different from those in the U.S. In Niger, concerts are often organized informally, with locals inviting musicians personally. Outdoor performances draw crowds organically, unlike in the U.S., where events are scheduled in advance, and tickets are purchased online.

Audience engagement also differs. In Agadez and Niamey, women often request jagwa, a style of music played for Mauritanian dance at bridal parties. Schmidt notes, “In most cases, Tuareg groups perform jagwa themselves, particularly versions by Bombino and Mdou Moctar.”

Some of Moctar’s songs draw inspiration from Islamic heritage, which contrasts with the often rowdy, alcohol-fueled crowds at Western concerts. This cultural dissonance is an inevitable aspect of performing beyond one’s home region. Yet, despite these differences, the bridge between Tuareg artists and their international fans continues to strengthen. Minniear, eager to see Moctar live, expresses his admiration: “His playing is almost hypnotic. I know what’s coming after listening so many times, but I can’t miss it. I plan to see him this spring when he comes to Iowa City for the Mission Creek Festival.”

From intimate gatherings in Niger to grand festivals in the U.S., Mdou Moctar remains an integral part of the evolving Tuareg music continuum.

While much of popular media’s focus on Rome has centered on its emperors, senators, and military conquests, Those About to Die promises to delve deeper into the diverse ethnic and cultural groups that comprised the empire—including the Amazigh, also known as the Berber people. Historically originating from North Africa, Berbers had significant interactions with Rome, ranging from warriors and traders to even rulers who influenced the empire’s course.

Amazigh Presence in Ancient Rome

The Amazigh, indigenous to North Africa, had a longstanding relationship with Rome. Numidia (modern-day Algeria and Tunisia) and Mauretania (modern-day Morocco and parts of Algeria) were home to Berber tribes that both resisted and collaborated with Roman expansion. Leaders like King Juba II of Mauretania were highly Romanized and played a role in spreading Roman culture in North Africa, while others, such as Tacfarinas, led resistance movements against Roman rule.

Moreover, the Roman arenas saw gladiators from all walks of life, including Amazigh who had either been captured in military campaigns or voluntarily enlisted in pursuit of fame and fortune. These fighters were often skilled horsemen and warriors, trained in the unforgiving desert landscapes of North Africa. Their presence in the gladiatorial games reflects the complex relationship between Rome and its African provinces.

The Role of Amazigh in Those About to Die

Early indications suggest that Those About to Die will portray the diverse ethnic backgrounds of its characters, potentially including Berbers among the gladiatorial ranks. If done correctly, this could bring much-needed representation to a group whose historical contributions have often been overshadowed in mainstream media. The Berbers were not only fighters but also intellectuals, traders, and even Roman citizens who integrated into various levels of society.

The portrayal of Amazigh in Roman history can also challenge existing stereotypes about ancient civilizations and their interactions. While Rome is often depicted as a monolithic imperial force, its success relied on the contributions of numerous cultures, including the Berbers, who played key roles in shaping its military, economy, and social fabric.

Actor Moe Hashim, who plays the character Kwame, highlights the challenges of researching North African influence in Roman history:

“Despite the impact, Numidia’s legacy is not explored enough by historians. As a result, my portrayal of Kwame was guided by intuition. You think you can just easily research Roman history, but you really have to dig in deep and find the right articles and audio to really understand the influence of the North Africans.”

A Step Toward Greater Historical Representation

If Those About to Die successfully includes the Amazigh presence in its narrative, it would mark a significant step toward more inclusive storytelling in historical dramas. The Amazigh (Berber) heritage is rich with tales of resilience, leadership, and cultural exchange—elements that could add depth to the show’s depiction of the Roman world.

By bringing attention to these often-overlooked communities, Those About to Die has the potential to educate viewers about the true diversity of the Roman Empire while celebrating the enduring legacy of the Amazigh people. As audiences await the show’s release, the hope remains that it will do justice to the history and contributions of one of North Africa’s oldest and most resilient cultures.

The genetic sequencing was conducted by an international research team led by the University of Huddersfield’s Archaeogenetics Research Group and published in Nature: Scientific Reports. The FTDNA Global Laboratory, a world-renowned genetic research institution, recently added the Segorbe Giant’s DNA profile to its list of Notable Connections after confirming that his paternal lineage belonged to the E-L19 haplogroup—the ancestral genetic branch of E-M81 and E-PF2431, both of which are widely recognized as Amazigh lineages.

The Genetic Identity of the Segorbe Giant

The Segorbe Giant was a man in his twenties, standing at an extraordinary height of 190 cm (6’3”), significantly taller than others buried in the same cemetery. His remains were found in Plaza del Almudín in Segorbe, buried in accordance with Islamic customs, positioned on his right side facing Mecca.

The genetic analysis revealed that he inherited Amazigh DNA from both parents, yet more than half of his overall genetic makeup was Spanish. This suggests he lived in a culturally integrated Andalusian community where North African Muslim immigrants and local Spaniards coexisted and intermarried. Further isotope analysis confirmed that he was born and raised in eastern Spain, indicating his North African ancestors had settled there several generations earlier.

Interestingly, the study also found that his diet differed from that of his peers—he consumed more meat and grains rather than the seafood commonly eaten in this Mediterranean region. This could indicate either a privileged status or a distinct cultural dietary practice.

A Vanishing Legacy: The Expulsion of Andalusian Muslims

One of the most striking revelations was that the Segorbe Giant shares no genetic lineage with modern-day inhabitants of Valencia. This aligns with historical records documenting the tragic fate of Muslims in Spain. Following the Christian Reconquista, thousands of Muslims—including Moriscos (converted Moors)—were expelled or executed in the early 17th century. As a result, their once-thriving communities were erased, and their genetic legacy largely disappeared from the region.

The Segorbe Giant’s DNA serves as a powerful testament to the diverse and complex history of Al-Andalus, shedding light on the rich Amazigh heritage that once flourished in medieval Spain—only to be violently uprooted and lost over time.

This study further reinforces the broader genetic findings on Andalusian Muslim remains across southern France, Spain, and the Canary Islands, all of which have been scientifically proven to carry strong Amazigh genetic markers, particularly the E-L19 haplogroup, which remains prevalent today among Berber-speaking populations—especially in southern Morocco, where it reaches up to 98% frequency.

The Segorbe Giant is more than just an archaeological discovery—his remains tell a story of identity, migration, integration, and loss. His Amazigh heritage, now scientifically confirmed, adds yet another layer to our understanding of North African influence in Al-Andalus and the genetic legacy that was tragically erased from Spain’s history.

During a session in the Chamber of Representatives on Monday, Seghrouchni provided an update on the government’s efforts to integrate the Amazigh language into official institutions. She also addressed inquiries regarding the progress of its official recognition in Morocco.

Currently, 464 Amazigh-speaking agents are actively working at both central and decentralized levels. This year, the government plans to recruit 1,840 more agents fluent in Tarifit, Tachelhit, and Tazamight. Additionally, 69 Amazigh-speaking agents will be assigned to 10 call centers to enhance accessibility in public services.

Regarding administrative signage, the minister noted that the Amazigh language is now featured on 3,000 signs across seven public institutions. Further plans are in motion to incorporate it into an additional 1,000 signs, including those in embassies and consulates.

Throughout the event, guests experienced traditional Amazigh music, dance performances, and presentations that brought the language and history of the community to life. Cultural exhibits showcased beautifully crafted old Amazigh Tattoos, berber carpets , jewelry, and artwork, while food vendors delighted visitors with authentic Amazigh tea and traditional pastries.

Families and children actively participated in interactive workshops, learning how to write their names in the old Amazigh script “Tifinagh”, traditional drumming, and folk dancing. The atmosphere was vibrant, with attendees joining in the festivities and sharing their appreciation for the culture.

The hosting organization, The Amazigh American network organization, AANO, runed a very smooth event and expressed their gratitude for the strong community support, noting that the Amazigh new year successfully fostered cultural awareness and unity. Many attendees expressed hope that there will more Amazigh event in Boston, bringing people together to honor and preserve the Amazigh heritage, one of the oldest existing cultures in the world.

With its successful turnout and enthusiastic participation, the Amazigh new year celebrations at the Armory Hall in Somerville, has set a strong foundation for future gatherings that celebrate diversity, history, and community.

Video highlights from the event;

Memories;