CV Kouassi Olivia
Ali Akbar, the last ardina of Paris
They call it the voice of the 6th arrondissement from Paris. In the cafés of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Ali Akbar is an inevitable presence — with a voice that does not go unnoticed. You usually hear it before you see it, with shouts of “Ça y est!” — its motto, which means something like “It’s done!”
There is over 50 years that this Ardina born in Pakistan makes the same daily journey in his second hand bicycle, meandering between the brasseries with stacks of fresh newspapers like Le Monde and Libération.
Among his clients are both neighborhood regulars and intellectuals from the Left Bank of the Seine, including the 20th century philosopher Jean-Paul Sartreand presidents visiting the city, including Bill Clinton.
And last month, another of his former clients, the French president Emmanuel Macronawarded him one of France’s highest decorations, knighting Akbar yes
“You are the accent of the 6th arrondissement“, Macron told Akbar in an official ceremony at the Élysée Palace in late January. “The voice of the French press on Sunday mornings — and every other day of the week.”
Macron also referred to Akbar as “the most French of the Frencha Voltairian arrived from Pakistan.” Akbar’s medal carries a discreet note: he is believed to be the last ardina of Paris.
The profession, which once marked the corners of the entire cityalmost disappeared completely, swept by the internet and the collapse of sales of the written press. In a city that today receives most of its news via cell phone, Akbar still delivers it by hand, says .
A big dream
At 73 years old, Akbar continues to work seven days a weekten hours a day, rain or shine.
Born in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, the oldest of ten childrensays that, growing up in poverty, I had a big dream: to make money enough to build your mother a house. Shortly before turning 18, he left home determined to build a better life abroad.
“I started working a lot“, says Ardina. For some time he cleaned the decks of a ship in Greece, where he learned the language. After that, he spent time in the Netherlands and in the French city of Rouen, in the north of the country. When arrived in Paris in 1973an Argentine friend suggested that he start sell newspapers with him in the Latin Quarter.
One of the first titles Akbar sold was the infamous satirical weekly Charlie Hebdowhich shocked him with its spicy caricatures and well-known irreverence towards French politicians (and beyond). “My first thought was: In my country, if you do that, they will kill you.”says Akbar.
He later added generalist and gained love for the craft of ardina, without hesitation in the face of 18-hour days. “Those days were, seriously, a paradise for me“, he states.
But that doesn’t mean things have been easy. There were times when left homeless, choosing to sleep on the street to save money and send it to the family. “I always thought about my mother and my brothers”, says Akbar.
Over time, he managed to make his dream come true. to build a house for his mother. Since then, he has continued to make a modest living selling newspapers. After a arranged marriage in pakistanAkbar and his wife, Aziza, settled in a suburb of Paris, where they raised five children.
Akbar diz quand remains grateful to France for all the opportunities given to him. But he is not afraid to acknowledge the difficulties he faced.
One, published in 2005, suggests what is hidden behind the cheerful image that made him famous on the streets of Paris: I make the world laugh, but the world makes me cry.
Even so, Akbar, in the image of the Voltairian that Macron found in him, chooses to concentrate not positive side. “There are bad people everywhere, but there are also good people everywhere“, he says, when asked about his difficulties.
Today, Akbar can barely walk for a few minutes without a stranger stopping you on the street to congratulate you on your recent award. For the family, the medal also represents a cure. “It was like a bandage on an old wound“, says his son, Shamshad Akbar.
Neighborhood residents say Akbar gave them something invaluable — the possibility of daily human contact. “He became interested in us, and we became interested in him,” he says. Michel Mimranlong time customer . “And that’s very rare nowadays in big cities.”
Akbar says he doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon. But when, one day, the last ardina of Paris leaves, the job will leave with him.
