At the Tip of My Tongue, or the Uprooting of a Child
Au Bout de ma Langue — or انا لا اشتكي (ana la aishtaky, meaning "I am not complaining") — is a one-man show written by Simon Grangeat and directed by Tal Reuveny. It is carried entirely by Omar Salem, who plays Taym, a nine-year-old boy who arrives in France with his family. Arabic-speaking and unable to understand a word of French, he retreats into complete silence as a way of protesting, in his own way, the uprooting he is forced to endure.
The story opens in the boredom of Taym's school days. Forced to learn French, he faces a teacher who over-enunciates every word as if speaking to someone incapable of understanding. When Taym refuses to make any effort, the teacher eventually gives up and leaves him alone. Wandering the corridors, Taym stumbles into a room full of objects and discovers a video recorder. Encouraged by the teacher, he decides to record everything he loves.
If school is the place of confrontation, home is the place of refuge. In the evenings, Taym wraps himself in the Arabic language, in his father's music, his mother's stories, and the voice of his grandmother — far away, still in their home country — who is his anchor, his pillar, his comfort. Slowly, his tongue begins to loosen. But it comes at a cost: the gradual loss of a part of himself.
To translate this duality onto the stage, the direction chooses a striking minimalism. Designed to be performed anywhere — a town hall, a classroom — the production responds to the 4x4 project of the Tréteaux de France. With only a few colored sheets and two fans, Tal Reuveny draws us into Taym's inner world, evoking the spirit of The Little Prince. The atmosphere is deepened by the music of Khaled Aljaramani and the sound design of Jonathan Lefèvre-Reich.
Omar Salem's performance is remarkable. For an hour, he conveys the tenderness, vulnerability, and energy of a nine-year-old boy. From the very first seconds, Taym seems to reach out his hand and invite the audience into his world. The result moves children and adults equally, wrapping the audience in a nostalgic, poetic haze.
But behind that poetry lies a sharp linguistic and political core. A significant portion of the show is in Arabic, with no translation. This deliberate choice mirrors the character's own experience — placing the audience, momentarily, in the position of not understanding. There is a constant tension between the gentleness of the staging and the weight of the themes: war, bombs, exile, uprooting. Tal Reuveny navigates this dissonance with precision, holding the perspective of a child steady throughout.
These themes are already heavy for adults who experience them secondhand, scrolling between a cat video and footage of a bombed building. What does it mean for a child who has lived it fully?
Au Bout de ma Langue is a more militant, human, and profound work than it first appears. The uprooting of families is rarely voluntary. It is a choice made under impossible weight, filled with sacrifice, made for survival. The Arabic title — "I am not complaining" — takes on its full meaning here.
Beyond a simple show for children, this work sets out to dismantle the negative image of the Arabic language and to honor the immense effort of parents rebuilding a life for the sake of their children.
Au Bout de ma Langue was performed from March 19 to 21, 2026 at the Maif Social Club in Paris.
Photo credit: ©Christophe Raynaud de Lage
— Lyna Tadount, Télésorbonne