Each day, as I step outside my home, I am embraced by the sight of greenery, the laughter of children at play, and cats drifting gracefully through the streets. A gentle breath of peaceful life fills the air, and gratitude settles within me, quietly, unfailingly.

I invite you to follow me on a walk through my city, a journey that begins right at my doorstep.

Across the street, a new structure rises, whispering rumors of sixteen stories high. For those who once purchased their apartments, it was with the promise of an eternal view of the sea, a horizon never to be stolen. Yet years later, the vow is broken. Dawn now arrives with the clang of cranes, and for some, the morning brings not light but loss.

Further along, I see the remnants of a “douar” erased. I had lived here only a short while, but its people had been rooted there for generations. Soon, even the neighborhood mosque will vanish, drawn into the same fate.

Driving onward, the scenery shifts—ruins scattered like broken memories, homes awaiting their silent disappearance, the mosque too among them.

And then, almost imperceptibly, the landscape transforms. The crumbling edges dissolve into towers of glass and steel, a new city emerges—modern, vertical, so tall it dares to touch the sky. The ruins give way to renewal, to the promise of progress, to the shimmering face of a country in motion.

I tell myself not to judge, only to witness. Yet questions echo within me, doubts gather in the silence. I should rejoice at this vision of growth, I should feel pride—but something falters, a dissonant note, a bitter taste I cannot ignore.

What is the true cost of progress? And who is destined to bear it?

The system has slipped in quietly, here as everywhere else in the world.

L: A man showing me the place. R: A man is telling me about the history of the place that used to stand here.

"CASA FINANCE CITY" (CFC), the newest neighbourhood of Casablanca

In January, I was in this same place for a funeral. 8 months later, it has been completely destroyed. The place has vanished, people had to leave. New apartments had been promised to them. They are still waiting. We can only hope the story goes well.

A sign Indicating a residential area near a neighbourhood that is about to disappear.

In January, I was in this same place for a funeral. 8 months later, it has been completely destroyed. The place has vanished, people had to leave. New apartments had been promised to them. They are still waiting. We can only hope the story goes well.

More and more constructions in the city of Casablanca, proof of a developing country.

L: "CASA FINANCE CITY" (CFC), the newest neighborhood of Casablanca. R: Tall buildings symptomatic of a developing country.

Inside the intimacy of a peaceful community. But we know that outside, just across, the neighbourhood is being destroyed, people are being displaced, so buildings can be built.

In a quiet residential area, children are playing. We can hear sound of construction site not too far away.

In a quiet residential area, a little cat is passing. We can hear sound of construction site not too far away.

The buildings are visible from the roof. We had been promised that there would be no constructions in front of us, but the promise has been broken.

Yasmine Hatimi works as a photographer in Casablanca. In 2004, she left Casablanca to pursue degrees in cinematography and photography in Madrid.  After nine years she returned to Morocco with the intention of rediscovering her country through her photographic work. Her latest work focuses on young Moroccan masculinity, which she approaches with a certain dreamlike romanticism. Her work has been shown at festivals and venues including Photo España, Festival Photo Saint Germain, Alliance Française de Safi, Festival d’Arles, Fondation des Musées in Rabat, Middle East Institute in Washington, DC. Yasmine was part of KOZ, a collective founded by four Moroccan visual artists working on long term projects and sharing a passion for storytelling.

Throughout January, Tender Photos will showcase Yasmine Hatimi's work on the changes in the Moroccan landscape. Next, we will publish an essay by Ife O. Olatona, followed by a short story by Shubnum Khan. For press, sponsorship and other media inquiries, contact us.