For the second year in a row, Palestinian mothers and children in Gaza celebrate it under the Israeli shelling as the Israeli government broke the ceasefire “it broke it since day one” and resumed the war.
We are back to see those scenes where a mother mourns her only child or her children or a child mourns his or her child.
Mother and Child by Palestinian renowned artist Silman Mansour
Those videos were filmed in Gaza in the past five days.
From Khan Younes, a mother woke up to find out that her children and husband were killed in an Israeli airstrike. They were already sleeping without Suhoor.
Tonight we will know what will happen to Reema in the realm of Jinn after meeting their Sultan Golan, “Correct spelling” after he claimed to be an apple seller.
So without further delay, here is the 689th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 17th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima
Episode 17: Rima saves the Sultan of Jinn
And so, on the six hundred and eighty-ninth night, when the new evening arrived, King Shahryar took his seat as he had the night before. No sooner had he settled than Scheherazade entered, greeted him, and took her place before him. She then resumed her tale and continued with the story.
Scheherazade spoke:
*"It has been told to me, O wise and fortunate king, that Rima returned to her old habit of stealing stories, claiming Kareema’s tale as her own and recounting it to the Sultan as if it had happened to her. But at that moment, King Golan revealed his true identity. Without hesitation, he seized Rima and flew with her to the land of the jinn, hiding her from all his servants to catch the Sultan off guard and expose the betrayal. Thus, he remained firm in his plan, concealing her in his chamber until nightfall.
When evening came, the dinner table was set, and the Sultaness dismissed all the servants. She sat alone with the Sultan, and what happened next is what we now witness..."*
Sultan Golan: "So, tell me, my Sultaness, where do we go from here?"
Sultaness Marjana: "Oh, my lord, why not just enjoy the meal?"
So without further delay, here is the 688th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 16th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima
Episode 16: The Apple seller
And so, Scheherazade arrived at the appointed hour, greeted the king, and took her seat beside him. Then, she continued her tale, weaving together the threads of the story.
"It has been told to me, O wise and fortunate king, that when Reema heard Kareema's story, she took Mishkah and made her way to the abandoned ruins. As she conversed with him, a fruit vendor passed by, calling out his wares—apples so fair they rivaled rosy cheeks, apples that blended with peaches. When the vendor caught sight of Reema’s apple, he asked for its tale. Reema, in turn, sent Mishkah to fetch the rest of the apples, while the vendor settled in, eager to listen.
Now, Reema fell back into her old ways—she took Karima’s story and spun it as her own, telling it with such conviction that it seemed as if it had truly happened to her. But as she spoke, the vendor suddenly transformed before her eyes. He was none other than Sultan Jolan himself, the very king Kareema had glimpsed in the garden. His fury was like a raging storm—he seized Reema and took to the skies, carrying her away to the land of the jinn. And thus, the tale unfolds before us now.
Reema: Who… who are you?
Sultan Jolan: Do not be afraid, O daughter of men.
Reema: What have you done to me?
Sultan Jolan: I merely took what was mine. Your tale is not yet complete, and you are here, hidden away where no one knows of your existence—no one but me and the Lord above.
Reema: By your mercy, my lord! I only sought to provide for my children.
Tonight, we will learn what Karima did in the cave of the Ghoul after she found herself in another realm and how one thing leads to another.
But first, a little chitchat, and tonight's chitchat is about the recurring guest star villain of the Arabian Nights tales, the Ghoul.
The ghoul (الغول) is a supernatural creature from pre-Islamic Arabian folklore, often depicted as a monstrous, shape-shifting being that lurks in desolate places, preying on travelers and consuming human flesh. While the legend is deeply embedded in Islamic folklore and 1001 Nights, its origins may trace back to ancient Mesopotamia.
The Gallu demons of Sumerian and Akkadian mythology were terrifying spirits that dragged victims to the underworld, often associated with wilderness and destruction—similar to how the ghoul was feared for lurking in abandoned ruins and deserts.
Additionally, the Mesopotamian Edimmu, restless spirits of the unburied dead, shared the ghoul’s eerie connection to graveyards and the afterlife.
Over time, the ghoul evolved into a prominent figure in Arabic folklore, blending influences from earlier Mesopotamian myths with local Arabian superstitions.
Though ancient Egypt did not have an identical creature, it had Ammit, the "Devourer of the Dead," who consumed the hearts of the impure, reflecting a similar fear of being devoured as punishment.
And that’s it for our chitchat.
So without further delay, here is the 687th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 15th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
There is no chitchat tonight due to the length of the episode.
So without further delay, here is the 686th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 14th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
Episode 14: Half Apple, Half Peach
King Shahryar took his seat as he had the night before, and Scheherazade arrived at her appointed hour. She stepped forward and withdrew, greeted him with a bow, and, when granted leave, began from where she had left off:
It has been told, O wise and just King, that when Fatima returned home without the oil, Rima was seized with fury. She cast upon her niece the weight of her doubts, riddled her with accusations, and hurled words of ill-temper. But Karima, standing between them, said:
"We have no need for oil tonight to light the house, for the moon is full, its glow complete, and I shall spin by its light upon the rooftop."
And Halima, her sister, added, "We have no need for lamps nor even the moon. We shall sleep now and wake at dawn’s first light."
Then Rima retired to her chamber, Halima lay down to sleep, and Karima ascended to the rooftop.
And when the morning came, spreading its light across the land, the two sisters looked about them but found no sign of Karima. Fear clutched at their hearts, and Fatima rushed up to the rooftop, searching high and low, yet she found no trace of her.
At this, Rima was seized by panic, lashing out like a raging beast or a storm-tossed sea. She scorned the innocent girls with cutting words and berated them without end—until they heard a knock upon the door.
They rushed to open it, and lo! It was Karima, standing before them with apples in her hands. At once, all eyes turned to her, and voices clamored for answers.
Rima: "Where have you been? And why have you returned so late?"
Karima: "Hush, Aunt! Let me catch my breath."
Rima: "Me hush? You vanish for a night and return as if nothing happened?"
Fatima: "Karima, where were you?"
Karima: "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you."
Rima: "Listen to her! Speaking as if she did no wrong!"
Karima: "Wrong? What wrong have I done, Aunt? You saw me go up to spin, but you never saw me come down. And yet here I stand! Are you not curious where I have been? And these apples in my hands—do you not wonder where they came from?"
Fatima (in wonder): "Where indeed?"
Rima (mockingly): "Ah yes, you climbed to the rooftop to bask in the moonlight! And did you find the moon, my girl? Did you?"
Karima: "Aunt, what is it you are trying to say? Why do you look at me so?"
Rima: "Don’t you see? Don’t you all see? Ask her! Ask her where she was!"
Karima (whispering): "I was with… Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim!" (seeking refuge in God's name, avoiding mention of the unseen beings)
Rima (echoing in disbelief): "Did you hear her?!"
Halima: "But truly, where were you?"
Karima (firmly): "I told you. I was with… Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim."
Tonight, we will know not only why Fatima did not bring the oil or the remaining money to her evil stepmom but also the future fate of the three girls, but first, a little chitchat.
For decades, many Egyptians and Arabs thought that Taher Abu Fasha chose the names of Fatima, Halima and Karima because of the rhythm. Thus it was a generational surprise when we found out that there could be a real inspiration behind the names of Fatima, Halima and Karima, and she was indeed a royalty, somehow a princess.
Yes, a princess. Princess Karima Halima Fatima of Egyptian Mohamed Ali Royal Family. holds probably the longest woman’s first name in the history of modern Egypt.
Noblewoman Karima Halima Fatima Mohamed Abdel Halim was born on March 15, 1898. She was the daughter of Prince Mohamed Abbas Halim, the son of Mohamed Abdel Halim Pasha, and the grandson of Mohamed Ali Pasha. On her mother's side, she was the granddaughter of Khedive Tawfiq, as her mother was Princess Fakhr Al-Nisa Khadija, the daughter of Khedive Tawfiq.
Karima had five sisters: Wojdan, Amina, Tawfiqa, Naematallah, and Zeinab.
Her first marriage was to Osman Fuad Oğlu (1873–1922), who served as the commander of Ottoman forces in Libya during World War I. The couple did not have any children.
Real noblewoman Karima Halima Fatima Helmy wearing her Cartier tiara
She later married Prince Youssef Kamal on January 11, 1937, but their marriage was short-lived. They divorced on October 29 of the same year.
Karima passed away on March 28, 1971.
According to Egypt’s Royal Story Facebook page “Best source of Modern Egyptian Royal History FB page” in 1935, her financial allowance was recorded at LE 600. She was also known for owning a remarkable Cartier tiara, crafted around 1930. The versatile piece could be worn as a necklace, bracelet, or a set of brooches.
Designed in an elaborate lotus motif, the tiara was made of platinum and adorned with small diamonds and round brilliant-cut diamonds, totaling approximately 52.50 carats, with a length of about 420 mm.
In 1980, the tiara was sold by an unknown owner at Christie’s for $75,000. In November 2010, an Italian noble family acquired it from Sotheby’s for $185,650. In 2015, it was resold at Sotheby’s for $287,277. Its current owner remains unknown.
Despite the lack of concrete proof that Karima Halima Fatima of the Mohamed Ali Royal Family inspired the tale of the three sisters, many, including myself, believe that folklorist Taher Abu Fasha may have drawn inspiration for their names from this noblewoman.
Now we will leave the real Karima Halima Fatima, May Allah bless her soul and go to the fictional Fatima, Halima and Karima’s world.
So without further delay, here is the 685th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 13th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
We know a chest was found in the house of Fatima, Halima and Karima last night, we will know tonight if the Dervish, Abu Farag, who spoke about a treasure in their house, meant that box or not
But first, there is the little chitchat before the episode.
You will hear tonight in Arabic this famous Egyptian Proverb “The house is our father’s house, and strangers are driving us out”.
It has a very interesting tale despite being straightforward. First of all, it is not a pure Egyptian exclusive proverb. It is shared across the Arab world but in different versions. This proverb is used to protest when someone is unfairly denied what is rightfully theirs.
Like in Iraq, "The House is Our Father's, Yet Strangers fight Us for It", and it has a background story unlike the Egyptian version.
Once upon a time a merchant’s daughter caught the eye of a prince, who tricked her into a kiss in the dark. When she later realized his deception, she plotted revenge. Disguising herself as a fortune teller, she was called to treat the prince’s mysterious illness. During the treatment, she secretly humiliated him, leaving him bewildered.
The prince later married her but, still bitter over her trick, refused to treat her well. He gave her little food, but she secretly used a tunnel her father had built between their homes to visit her family and eat well.
During a hunting trip, she disguised herself as a man and set up camp opposite the prince’s. He challenged her to a game of chess, wagering a servant as the prize. Losing on purpose, she sent herself to his tent, now in her true form, and spent the night with him, keeping his token as proof. She later bore him a son.
Years later, she repeated the same trick, bearing him a daughter. Both children were raised in her father’s house.
When the prince took a second wife, she sent their children to the palace, instructing them to break things and shout, "The house is our father’s, yet strangers fight us for it!" The commotion drew the prince’s attention, and when he recognized the tokens and the children calling their mother, he realized the truth.
Overcome with emotion, he abandoned his second wife and chose to remain with his first wife and their children.
This is a very short version, but the long version, I can tell you that the merchant’s daughter had a hobby to humiliate the prince, despite she loved him.
Now we will leave this tale and go back to our main tale, the tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima.
So without further delay, here is the 684th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the 12th night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
Reema successfully executed the first part of her devilish plan by poisoning Ka’b El-Ghazal to seize his house. Tonight, we will find out what she intends to do to eliminate his daughters—Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
But first a little chitchat
You will hear and see in tonight’s episode in Arabic this Egyptian popular proverb "يقتل القتيل ويمشي في جنازته" (literally: He kills the victim and then walks in his funeral). This proverb is a widely used expression describing someone who commits a wrongdoing but then pretends to be innocent or even mourns the consequences of their actions. It refers to hypocrisy, deceit, and false sympathy, especially when someone tries to distance themselves from a crime or betrayal they were responsible for.
It is unclear if there is a certain backstory or historical incident related to it, but history is full of incidents that manifested this proverb, whether in the East or West.
There is also this Egyptian term “Ox in a waterwheel” which you will hear tonight. In Egypt, the phrase "الثور في الساقية" (the ox in the waterwheel) is a well-known metaphor used to describe someone who works tirelessly and endlessly without rest or reward. This imagery comes from the traditional ساقية (sāqiya), a waterwheel system that was widely used in Egyptian agriculture since the Ptolemaic era.
You will also hear this word in Arabic “Sahtout”, it is not a fictional currency created by Taher Abu Fasha. The Sahtout (السحتوت) or Suttout was an old Egyptian currency with a very small value used particularly during the Ottoman and early modern periods in Egypt. It was equal to a quarter of a millieme, meaning that one Egyptian pound was worth 4,000 Sahtouts. The coin had the phrase "من ربع عشر القرش" (one-quarter of a tenth of a qirsh) inscribed on it. The name "Sahtout" originated from Syria and Palestine, where it was also used historically.
The term suttout is sometimes still used colloquially in Egypt to refer to insignificant amounts of money.
Now enough of our trivia chitchat
So without further delay, here is the 683rd episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the eleventh night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
We know the secret of the treasure hidden in the house of Fatima, Halima and Karima from their father Ka’b al-Ghazal last night, we will know tonight Reema’s next move, but first a little chitchat.
Without spoilers, tonight you will hear and read those two words “Sadd al-Hanak” or “Mouth Blocker”. This is not a fictional dish, it is actually an authentic Egyptian dessert with a long history.
Sadd al-Hanak (سد الحنك) is a traditional Egyptian dessert known for its rich, dense texture. The name literally means "Mouth Blocker" because it's so thick and filling. It's made primarily with flour, butter, sugar, and milk, creating a smooth, pudding-like consistency.
The dish dates back to the Ottoman period and became a staple in Egyptian households. Its name, which literally means "Mouth Blocker," humorously refers to its thick and heavy nature—it fills you up quickly and makes you quiet!
It was often considered a winter dessert because it’s rich and provides warmth and energy, much like halawa or basbousa.
Sadd al-Hanak was popular among both the wealthy and the working class. The wealthy could afford to add nuts, spices, and even cream, while the common folk made it simply with flour, sugar, butter, and milk. It was sometimes called "the dessert of the broke" because it could be made with basic, affordable ingredients found in any home.
The name itself became a joke in Egyptian culture, often used to describe something that makes people speechless—whether from its thickness or from being too full to talk. Some old Egyptian proverbs and sayings mention it humorously, implying that after eating Sadd al-Hanak, you wouldn't be able to argue or complain!
Before Scheherazade continues her tale and we discover what happened to Fatima, Halima, and Karima after Ka’b al-Ghazal fell into Reema’s trap and married her.
it’s time for a little chitchat and some trivia about this season of One Thousand and One Nights, Egypt’s legendary radio and TV show. It is not a spoiler but tonight, we will meet a dervish. It is another recurring theme or rather character in the One Thousand and One Nights Book that Taher Abu Fasha loved to borrow for his adaptations and inspirations.
Now to trivia.
According to Deepseek AI “Chat-GPT failed to do it”, determining the exact number of mentions of "dervishes" (Arabic: darāwīsh, دراويش) in the Bulaq edition of the Nights book (1835, Cairo) is challenging without a full-text analysis, as the term appears in both major roles and fleeting references.
However, based on the structure of key stories in the Egyptian recension, there were 30–40 explicit uses of the term dervish in the book and up to 50+ mentions if counting repetitions in dialogue, titles, and descriptors.
There is also mention of Qaron or Korah. In Egypt, there is a widespread belief that Qarun lived in Fayoum and that Lake Qarun (Birket Qarun) was named after him because his wealth was buried beneath its waters when he was swallowed by the earth. This belief is not explicitly mentioned in the Quran or the Bible, but it has been passed down through Egyptian folklore.
There is also Qasr Qarun in Fayoum, which is actually a Ptolemaic-Roman temple dedicated to ancient Egyptian and Greek deities of Sobek and Dionysus, not an ancient palace.
Dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek, worshipped in Fayoum, and Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and festivity, the temple is near Lake Qarun
The name “Qasr Qarun” (Palace of Qarun) likely comes from local folklore linking the site to Qarun or Korah
So without further delay, here is the 681st episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the ninth night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima.
Egypt’s Al-Azhar celebrated the 1,085th Hijri anniversary of its inauguration with its first prayer on 7th Ramadan (361 AH / 972 AD).
Al-Azhar Al-Sharif, originally established as a center for Shi’a Islam, has become the world's largest and most influential Sunni Islamic institution—one of history's greatest ironies.
In another irony because from two weeks ago, its Grand Imam Sheikh Ahmed El-Tayeb launched a call in the Islamic world to end the sectarian division between Sunni and Shi’a Muslims.
Al-Tayeb led top Islamic scholars and religious leaders from across the Muslim world who signed the Call of Ahl Al-Qibla declaration, a landmark document aimed at strengthening dialogue and unity among different Islamic sects and schools of thought.
In other words, the dialogue between Sunna and Shia.
The Call of Ahl Al-Qibla asserts that sectarian diversity is a natural and legitimate part of Islamic scholarship, rejecting any attempts to impose uniformity by dissolving distinct sects into a single doctrine.
Instead, the document calls on Muslims to focus on the shared foundations of the faith, which are rooted in the Qur’an and the Sunnah.
The declaration also underscores the historical harmony among Muslims across different regions and theological backgrounds, highlighting their shared contributions to intellectual, social, and economic development. It reaffirms that Islamic unity is a sacred covenant that must be safeguarded against political and ideological divisions.
Before Scheherazade continues her tale and we discover what happened to Fatima, Halima, and Karima’s Ka’b al-Ghazal as he falls into Reema’s trap—" no spoiler”—it’s time for a little chitchat and some trivia about this season of One Thousand and One Nights, Egypt’s legendary radio and TV show.
Now it is the turn of Ka’b al-Ghazal, the three sisters’ father.
The actor who narrated the role of Ka’b al-Ghazal in the radio version, which we listen to throughout Ramadan, is the same actor who presented it on the TV screen in 1987: the late Egyptian comedian Mohamed Ahmed El-Masry.
Late Egyptian comedy icon Mohamed Ahmed El-Masry
El-Masry is known in Egypt and Arabs for generations as Abu Lam’a El-Masry, the big bluffer who exaggerates everything with everyone till he falls in trouble to the level that they did not know that his name was Mohamed Ahmed El-Masry, who had a very high ranking position in the Ministry of Education and was the Principal one of Egypt’s oldest and most famous high school.
Born in February 1924, in Zagazig, Egypt, El-Masry earned a bachelor’s degree in applied arts, followed by a Diploma from the Teacher Training Institute in 1949.
He initially worked as a teacher before becoming the principal of Al-Sa'idiyya High school, and you do not become a principal for the school that graduated Egypt’s top icons except if you truly deserve that position.
The Civilian High School turned into a military high school in 1973. Till this day, Mohamed Ahmed El-Masry is remembered among the top principals back in its civilian days.
El-Masry, he held a high-ranking position at the Ministry of Education, where he served as the Director of Public Relations.
Now it comes to acting, El-Masry was among the original cast to join the Egyptian Radio show Sa'a Le Qalbak (An Hour for Your Heart) troupe in 1953. Sa’a Le Qalbak was our radio Saturday Night Live and was recorded live.
El-Masry portrayed the character of Abu Lam’a, originally played by Amin El-Heneidi. He later formed a comedic duo with Fouad Rateb, known for his role as Greek El-Khawaga Bijo (The Foreigner Bijo) who always falls for the lies and tales of Abu Lam’a
The show ran till the early 1960s when its stars, including actors and writers, moved to TV and Cinema.
El-Masry passed away in January 2003.
Thanks to social media and the Egyptian Radio uploading those episodes of Sa’a Le Qalbak, new generations of Egypt continue to know Abu Lam’a El-Masry.
Anyhow, we will leave Abu Lam’a and go to Abu Fatima, Halima, and Karima, Ka’b al Ghazal in the Arabian Nights universe. First, here is last night's episode to refresh your memory.
I initially thought this would be a simple walk down a single street. But I should have known better. We’re talking about a street in Islamic Cairo—layers upon layers of history.
That’s why this post will be divided into two parts.
Ramadan crescent became a lantern too in Taht al-Rab'a
This year, I decided to explore the street on foot instead of driving, as I did last year when I took Bab El-Khalq to Bab Zuweila via Ahmed Maher Street, historically and socially known as Taht el-Rab’a.
Walking through it is an entirely different experience, especially with the annual Ramadan bazaar taking shape in the middle of Sha’ban, about 15 days before the holy month begins.
Tahte El-Rab’a Street starts at the Cairo Security Directorate—currently undergoing major renovations—and ends at Bab Zuweila.
For more than 150 years lanterns have been made and sold in Taht el-Rab'a
The street is the heart of Egypt’s traditional handmade Ramadan lantern industry, locally and globally.
It is home to workshops that craft these lanterns from glass and tin, most of them family businesses passed down through generations.
One of the workshops specialized in lanterns, as well as tinware and copperware
Some of these workshops also produce other tinware and copperware items, as demand for such dinnerware has recently increased.
However, during this time of year, the primary focus remains on Ramadan lanterns.
One of the workshops specialized in lanterns, as well as tinware and copperware
The exact reason why or how Taht El-Rab’a became a hub for lantern-making remains unclear, but historians trace this tradition back about a century and a half.
Before Scheherazade continues her tale and we discover what happened to Fatima, Halima, and Karima as they fall deeper into the web of their auntie Reema, it’s time for a little chitchat and some trivia about this season of One Thousand and One Nights, Egypt’s legendary radio show.
Our radio Scheherazade, Zouzou Nabil, portrayed Reema in the 1987 TV adaptation of the tale. However, the Reema we hear in this Ramadan’s radio broadcast is voiced by the renowned Egyptian actress Malak El-Gamal.
Colorized photo of Malak El-Gamal in 1966 "Tofahet Adam"
I had recognized Reema’s voice in the radio version as familiar, yet I couldn’t pinpoint which veteran actress it belonged to—until I stumbled upon the answer by accident.
Born in Port Said in 1929, El-Gamal graduated from the Faculty of Arts, English Department, before enrolling at the Higher Institute of Acting Arts. She began her career in radio before transitioning to theater and eventually becoming a well-known film actress, specializing in complex roles, particularly as a villain.
She is remembered as the first Egyptian actress to portray a queer character on the silver screen in Salah Abu Seif’s El-Tareeq El-Masdood (1958), based on Ihsan Abdel Quddous' novel. The role was groundbreaking, even though the character was one of the antagonists the heroine encounters in her journey.
Her role in the 1962 film Black Candles was a classic performance, and she became a horror icon despite the film not being a horror movie.
Both Malak El-Gamal and Zouzou Nabil are among Egypt’s legendary villainesses and radio icons. If Nabil was our Radio Scheherazade, then El-Gamal was our talkative, bubbly Auntie Bamba—the beloved voice who guided Egyptian housewives for 12 years on the famous radio show To the Housewives, the oldest and longest-running program in Egyptian radio history. It has been on air for an astounding 71 years.
The showrunner and presenter of To the Housewives was Safia El-Mohandas, the wife of Mahmoud Shaaban—the creator and showrunner of the One Thousand and One Nights radio series. It is no surprise that both Shaaban and El-Mohandas are often referred to as the father and mother of Egyptian radio broadcasting.
Now, back to Malak El-Gamal—the Villainess Queen. It is said that she was the true muse of the famous Egyptian poet Ibrahim Nagi and the inspiration behind his iconic poem Al-Atlal (The Ruins), which was later immortalized in song by Umm Kulthum. Ironically, another theory suggests that the true muse was none other than Zouzou Hamdy El-Hakim, the undisputed queen of villainous roles in Egyptian cinema.
Malak El-Gamal’s career and life were tragically short. She passed away in 1982, following the deaths of her son and grandson. Yet, her legacy as one of Egyptian cinema’s most unforgettable villainesses of the 1960s and 1970s remains unparalleled.
Honestly, I felt it was a great opportunity to remember and shed some light on that fine actor.
Now, here is the 679th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show—or the seventh night in this year’s tale, The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima but first refresh your memory and remember what Reema did last night.
Before we find out how Reema will truly turn the lives of Fatima, Halima, and Karima upside down after entering their world as a caring mother figure, let’s have a little chitchat about Reema—the one who always returns to her old ways, her old wicked ways.
Taher Abu Fasha was not just a gifted storyteller but also a master of folklore, deeply celebrating Egyptian and Arabic proverbs and traditions.
Abu Fasha deliberately chose Reema from the well-known Egyptian proverb, "Reema has returned to her old ways." Like most things in Egypt, this proverb has a long and surprising history.
Interestingly, it is not purely an Egyptian proverb but rather an Arab saying with multiple versions and different heroines across the region.
Originally, it was“Halima has returned to her old ways” in Levant, but according to the book 1000 Proverbs and Sayings, the proverb was altered in Egypt, becoming "Reema has returned to her old habit." The book describes it as "a well-known and widely used proverb with a famous story behind it, encouraging people not to revert to bad habits and traditions."
Additionally, the 1949 book The Encyclopedia of Egyptian Folk Proverbs “Most important guide for Egyptian proverbs” mentions three variations of the proverb which are: "Reema has returned to her old habit.", "Halima has returned to her old habit." and "Salima has returned to her old habit."
The book explains that Reema could be a female name or simply used for the sake of rhyme. The meaning behind the proverb is that "nature prevails over nurture", implying that when a person attempts to change their habits, they often struggle to do so.
According to the 1971 book Lest It Be Lost (Lialla Tadi’a), another version of the proverb's origin story traces back to Halima, the wife of Hatim al-Tai. Hatim al-Tai was a Pre-Islamic Arab poet and nobleman in Arabia famous for his unparalleled generosity, while Halima, in contrast, was known for her extreme frugality.
It is said that whenever she added butter to her cooking, her hand would tremble from reluctance. Wanting to teach her generosity, Hatim told her that the ancients believed every spoonful of butter added to a dish would grant a person an extra day of life. Encouraged by this idea, Halima began adding more butter to her food, eventually becoming accustomed to generosity. However, when her only son—whom she deeply loved—passed away, she was overcome with grief and wished for death. In her despair, she started reducing the amount of butter in her cooking, hoping that by doing so, her life would be shortened. Observing this, people said: "Halima has returned to her old ways."
According to the 15th century book Thamarat Al-Awraq by Ibn Hujjah al-Hamawi, Halima al-Zanariyah was a courtesan in Ayyubid Cairo who repented, adopting a life of piety. She abandoned music and wine, dedicating herself to prayer. However, her resolve waned, and one spring day, she returned to her old ways, prompting people to say: "Halima has returned to her old habits."
According to the 1985 book, Beirut Proverbs in the Context of Lebanese Proverbs (Al-Amthila Al-Bayrutiyya fi Siyaq Al-Amthila Al-Lubnaniyya), offers a different explanation. It states that Halima was a kind-hearted woman but inherently lazy and lacking ambition. Her husband constantly urged her to work, and while she would momentarily comply, she would soon revert to her idle habits. When this cycle repeated itself too many times, her husband finally remarked: "Halima has returned to her old ways."
Enough chitchat about Reema’s origins—let us now tune in and see what Reema is up to.
Here is the 678th episode of our Arabian Nights Egyptian radio show or the sixth night in our tale for this year, the Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima.
Before we tune in to Scheherazade to find out what the Sultan did with the mysterious fair maiden—the one who owns the palace that appeared out of nowhere and refuses to be questioned in her domain—let’s have a little chitchat, as usual.
In the televised adaptation of our tale, Zouzou Nabil, our original radio Scheherazade, will appear as Reema. I won’t give away any spoilers about Reema just yet.
Born in 1920, Aziza or Zouzou Nabil portrayed Scheherazade for more than 23 years on our radio show, which was produced by Egyptian State TV.
Though she was never a leading lady in cinema or television, Zouzou Nabil appeared in 80 films between 1939 and 1996 and 72 TV series from 1962 to 1996, including seven adaptations of One Thousand and One Nights.
Here’s a little piece of information I only recently learned: Zouzou Nabil had one son, who was killed in the October 1973 war.
Enough of the chitchat—now, let’s tune in to Zouzou Nabil, the legendary voice of Scheherazade, in the fifth episode of our tale this year, or the 677th episode of the beloved radio show.
We continue our tale for this year, the Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima
Tonight’s episode features Taher Abu Fasha drawing on one of the most recurring themes in the original One Thousand and One Nights—the Sultan or King disguising himself to observe his subjects or unexpectedly visiting a palace.
This theme was especially prominent in the One Thousand and One Nights, which was compiled during the second Abbasid era. It was inspired by real events in Islamic history, beginning with Caliph Umar, who disguised himself to check on his citizens. The practice was also followed by Caliph Omar Ibn Abdul Aziz of the Umayyads and Caliph Harun Al-Rashid of the Abbasids.
We will leave the Kings and Sultans who checked on their citizens and return to our tale.
Now, let’s gather around Scheherazade to listen to the fourth episode of our tale—or, to be precise, the 676th episode of the beloved radio show.
Episode 4: Do Not Ask Questions in This Palace
When it was the seventy-sixth night after the six-hundredth, Shahryar the king took his seat upon his throne, and Scheherazade arrived at the appointed hour. She greeted him with reverence and sat before him, resuming her tale where it had left off:
"It has reached me, O king of the age, that when King Safwan heard from the servant Marjan the wondrous tale of the mysterious palace and the fruits that ripen out of season, he was seized with an unrelenting curiosity to uncover the secrets of that place.
Now, let’s gather around Scheherazade to listen to the third episode of our tale—or, to be precise, the 675th episode of the beloved radio show.
Episode 3: The Curious Case of Palacy Neighbour
When it was the seventy-fifth night after the six-hundredth, King Shahryar took his place as he did the night before, and Scheherazade began her tale as per their custom. She spoke:
“It is said, O wise and gracious King, that when Murjan the servant left the enchanted garden, he hurried directly to the royal court. There, he approached King Safwan, accompanied by the vizier and the prince, and recounted every detail of what he had witnessed. He described the magnificent beauty of the lady of the palace, their mysterious exchange, and handed over the golden basket containing the three clusters of grapes. The sight of the grapes stirred great astonishment among the three men.
Before I go into our tale, a little chitchat about the televised version. It was not a Fawzeer show like in 1986 and 1985. It was a classical format of the radio show, merged with a musical TV show.
And so, we continue our tale, eager to uncover the mystery of the palace that suddenly appeared before the Sultan’s own. If you do not recall the events of our last episode, you may refresh your memory by listening to last night’s telling.
Now, let us hear it from Scheherazade.
Without further delay, I present the second episode of our story—The Tale of Fatima, Halima, and Karima, or the 674th night of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast by the Egyptian State Radio.
Episode 2: Grapes for sick neighbours
When it was the seventy-fourth night after the six hundred and first, Shahryar the King took his seat in the evening’s assembly as he had done the night before. It was not long before Scheherazade entered, like a supple bough adorned with the fruits of dreams, exhaling the fragrance of nights long past and days yet to come. She greeted the king with the finest of salutations and spoke these words:
“It has reached me, O wise and noble king, that the tale of Prince Wardan and his strange encounter with a palace unlike any other continues thus:
When King Safwan grew enraged at his son’s refusal to wed the bride he had chosen, he granted him a short respite to reconsider. In the meantime, Prince Wardan gathered his courage and sought an audience with his father.
Falling to his knees before the king, he confessed his love for a maiden who had captured his heart—a vision glimpsed through the lattice of a palace window. ‘She dwells,’ he said, ‘in a grand palace that stands before ours.’
Hearing this, the king was taken aback and thought his son delusional, for there were no palaces near the royal residence—indeed, construction in that area was strictly forbidden.
Yet even as the king mulled over these strange words, the doors to the royal chamber flew open, and the servant Murjan stumbled in, his face pale with astonishment. He wailed, ‘A palace, O Sultan! A palace has appeared before ours!’
The king rose in alarm, summoning his vizier and guards to follow. Together they approached the prince’s quarters, where Murjan opened the window to reveal the sight that had so astounded him. And lo! There it stood: a magnificent palace gleaming in the moonlight, its grandeur unparalleled.
‘By the grace of the Almighty!’ exclaimed the king. ‘What sorcery is this? How was such a marvel erected without our knowledge? Speak, Wardan, for surely this is no work of mortal hands!’
Prince Wardan, still awestruck, raised his hand and pointed toward the window. "My father, it is no illusion. The maiden of whom I spoke sits there, by that very window. From the moment my eyes beheld her, my thoughts have been ensnared by her beauty."
"She shone with the radiance of the full moon, and beside her stood a handmaiden, attending to her—combing her hair with delicate care," the young prince declared to his father, the Sultan.
Overcome with curiosity, the king turned to Murjan and said, ‘Murjan, I entrust you with uncovering the truth of this matter. Seek out the palace’s servants and gatekeepers. Spare no effort in learning its secrets.’
Murjan bowed low. ‘At once, my lord.’
Disguising himself, Murjan approached the palace. To his astonishment, there were no guards, no doormen, no sign of any human presence. He waited for hours, yet no one entered or exited the gates. Finally, he scaled the walls and slipped inside, finding himself in a garden of unparalleled beauty. There were fruit trees heavy with grapes, figs, and oranges—all ripening out of season.
Overwhelmed by the spectacle, Murjan hid himself behind a grand column to observe further. But fearing the king’s wrath if he delayed, he soon crept out as he had come, unseen and unheard. Returning to the royal court, he recounted his strange findings.
‘My lord,’ said Murjan, ‘the palace appears deserted. Yet its gardens bear fruits of every kind, and the maiden your son described is indeed seated by the window.’
King Safwan frowned, deep in thought. ‘This matter grows stranger still. Minister, what do you propose?’
The vizier replied, ‘My king, let us test the waters.” Send Murjan back to the palace to request fruit from its garden under the guise of aiding a sick neighbor. If there are inhabitants, they will surely respond.’
Murjan departed once more, carrying out the vizier’s instructions. He knocked on the great doors of the palace, calling out, ‘We are your neighbors and seek but a cluster of grapes for ailing kin.” Surely, such a request will not go unanswered.’
To his surprise, the doors swung open of their own accord. From within came a voice like music, bidding him enter. There he was greeted by a veiled figure who handed him a golden basket brimming with grapes. The figure spoke:
‘Grapes for your kin and blessings upon your house. Every gift has its reason, and every cause its purpose.’
Taking the basket, Murjan offered his thanks and departed. Returning to the court, he presented the gilded basket to the king, who marveled at its craftsmanship and its contents. The intrigue deepened, and all awaited the next move in this unfolding mystery.
And here, Scheherazade saw that dawn had arrived, so she fell silent, leaving the tale untold.
In the spirit of Ramadan, I invite you to support UNICEF’s relief efforts in Gaza and Sudan as well as other places in the globe. Every pound, dollar, or euro can make a difference.
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