“Nawar Achiya”: Beauty Enduring in the Shadows of Tunisia’s Margins
By Vanessa Tomassini
January 25, 2026
This story originally appeared on the Italian “Strumenti Politici”.
Cinema often emerges from urgency — the need to tell stories that linger on society’s fringes. “Nawar Achiya” — internationally known as “4 O’Clock Flower” or “Belle de Nuit” — the feature debut of Tunisian director Khedija Lemkecher, belongs to this rare breed. More than a film, it is a lens on Tunisia’s peripheral neighborhoods — the cités, the quartiers populaires — where social hardship intersects with crime, exclusion, and a silent, persistent youth mortality. Lemkecher, previously known for lighter comedies, makes a bold departure here: she abandons irony for a raw, almost documentary-like realism, yet one imbued with a quiet, dreamlike poetry.
Hay Helal: The Heart of the Story
The film’s heartbeat is Hay Helal, one of Tunis’s most challenging peripheral neighborhoods, far from tourist paths, festival lights, and the runways of international cooperation. Lemkecher spent four years there before filming — a long, necessary immersion to “domesticate” the space, gain acceptance, and almost be adopted by its residents. That time translates powerfully on screen. She deliberately avoids sentimentalism. The periphery is not depicted as a universe of victims but as a complex world of proud, resourceful individuals. This is embodied by Yahya, the protagonist, striving to reshape his destiny through boxing. Authenticity is radical: no sets, no makeup. Streets, homes, faces — many belonging to real residents of Hay Helal and Jebel Lahmar — are presented as they are. And yet, within this stark reality, Lemkecher finds room for a striking aesthetic of the margins: sunsets glinting between buildings, light spilling over the urban landscape, transforming it into a space of contemplation, treated with poetic attention. The stakes are real. Youth unemployment in Tunisia ranges from 16 to 18 percent nationally but often exceeds 35–40 percent in urban peripheries among 15- to 24-year-olds. School dropout exacerbates the crisis: roughly 100,000 students leave school each year, many from poor urban belts, feeding informal labor markets and a scarcity of opportunities.
Boxing, Dreams, and the Lure of Escape
The narrative follows Yahya, a young man drifting through the neighborhood, and Joe, a gym owner who sees in him a potential champion. While Joe believes in discipline and a future, Yahya is consumed by another obsession: escape. Represented metaphorically by a siren, his gaze is drawn toward the Mediterranean — a sea that promises redemption but often delivers only death.
The Mediterranean: An Invisible Antagonist
The sea is the film’s true, invisible antagonist. Yahya’s yearning echoes the harga, the Tunisian term for irregular migration. In the last decade, thousands of young Tunisians have died or gone missing in the Mediterranean, many from the peripheries of Tunis and Sfax. Migration is now a leading cause of indirect youth mortality. Suicides and acts of self-harm — often public, including self-immolation — are also on the rise. The most affected age group is 20 to 35, precisely the cohort the film portrays.
The “Belle de Nuit” Metaphor
The title is deliberate. The “Belle de Nuit” is a wildflower that blooms only at dusk, growing among refuse. Lemkecher uses it as a metaphor for peripheral youth: talents invisible to the world, forced to blossom away from light — if at all.
The Ring as a Stage
Boxing becomes more than a plot device — it is a language of the body. With support from the Tunisian Boxing Federation, the ring becomes a space of primary expression, where those without a voice can be heard through movement, breath, and punch. Time itself is cinematic. Lemkecher’s slow, sometimes exhausting pacing conveys the ennui — the oppressive, repetitive rhythm of daily life in the quartiers populaires, a suspended time that feels more like sentence than wait.
Cinema That Confronts Reality
The film avoids sensationalism, yet the backdrop of crime is undeniable. Post-2011 studies note a shift in micro-criminality: low-cost synthetic drugs like ecstasy and opioids have fueled theft and assaults. Juvenile delinquency tied to gangs has also risen. Organized crime in Tunisia remains low compared to the African average, yet peripheral urban zones see growing human trafficking and smuggling. In the film, these realities linger at the edges — ever-present but not overtly dramatized.
Ultimately, Nawar Achiya is an act of cinematic resistance. Lemkecher refuses reassuring “happy endings,” staying faithful to the youth she met while preparing the film — the same who urged her to “tell the truth” about the scarcity of opportunities. No easy solutions, no illusions. Instead, the audience is forced to look into the darkness of Tunisia’s peripheries and discover that even there, a different kind of light can exist: not the promised redemption, but the stubborn glow of dignity.