Moroccan women weavers keeping the ancient carpet art alive

In southern Morocco, women are the custodians of the ancient art of tapestry, a complex art form that often leaves them with meager earnings.

Women like Ijja Benchri, who makes carpets on a wooden weaving loom outside her small home in the village of Taznakht, follow traditions that go back generations.

“I started when I was 11 or 12, imitating the women I saw weaving,” Benchri, 60, said. “Little by little, I learned and it became my life’s work.”

Known for their bold geometric patterns and vibrant colors, the handmade rugs are a staple in local markets and a favorite among tourists. In 2022, traditional carpets accounted for nearly 22 percent of the kingdom’s handicraft exports, according to government data.

The mountain villages around Taznakht are famous for their Ait Ouaouzguite carpets, named after an indigenous Amazigh tribe, one of a group of several North African indigenous communities long referred to as Berbers.

Carpets are woven by women on small traditional looms, either at home or in specialized workshops. They are then categorized into various styles depending on their region of origin and designs.

Some of Morocco’s finest carpets are made from high-quality sheep’s wool in Jbel Sirwa, just south of the Atlas Mountains, and dyed with natural pigments from plants such as henna, pomegranate peels or indigo, although industrial dyes have replaced natural for most weavers because they are cheaper and can be produced faster.

“This tradition has been handed down for centuries, from mothers to daughters,” said Safia Imnutres, who heads a local women’s weaving cooperative.

She was one of the women who presented their creations at a recent festival in Taznakht dedicated to preserving heritage.

“It comes from within”

Creating a single rug can take two to four weeks depending on its size, Benchri said, speaking in Tamazight, the community’s language that is recognized as an official language along with Arabic in Morocco.

“I choose the colors as I go, according to my feelings,” he added.

Imnoutres also described the process as “instinctive,” driven by emotion rather than a predetermined plan.

“Weaving is an expression of women’s emotions, when they are happy, when they are sad,” she added. “It’s an art that comes from within.”

But beyond its artistic value, weaving is a vital source of income. Every Thursday, many travel to a weekly market to sell their rugs, often to middlemen who set the prices. On average, a large rug sells for just 250 Moroccan dirhams (about $24), with its final price later making astronomical profits. In cities such as Marrakesh, some 250 kilometers (160 mi) north of Taznakht, they are sold in bazaars for up to ten times the original price. Other rugs are listed for as much as $6,000 on online platforms.

“We earn very little,” Benchri said. “The middlemen decide the price and we have no choice but to accept it because this is our survival.”

These declining returns, she added, contributed to making the craft less attractive to younger women and putting the craft tradition at risk. In addition, the influx of cheaper, motorized carpets has deepened competition.

To address these challenges, a new showroom in Taznakht allows some weavers to sell their work directly to buyers, cutting out middlemen. The center is also trying to open new avenues for these women to sell their products independently through digital marketing courses.

“If this heritage is not made economically viable, we risk losing it,” warned Imnoutres. AFP