Orwell’s Marrakech is a rather bleak look at the way he saw the relationship between the white and black people of the city in which he stayed, surrounded by appalling poverty.
He describes the funeral custom of simply wrapping bodies in sheets and dumping them in shallow ditches with barely a layer of dirt over them, no ceremonies or headstones, etc. He knew that when he walked over bumpy dusty mounded ground, he was standing on