Ramadan Arabian Nights 2025 : The Tale of Fatima, Halima and Karima “Into her web ” EP.7

Ramadan Kareem

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. 

Episode Seven: Into her web

And when it was the one hundred and seventy-ninth night after the six hundredth, and the following night had come, King Shahryar took his seat as he had the night before. Scheherazade arrived at the appointed hour, greeted him, and sat before him, resuming her tale and continuing the story:

Know, O wise and just King, that Sheikh Ka‘b al-Ghazal was a man of modest means and little wealth, yet he was content with his life alongside his wife and daughters. He resided in a dilapidated house, inherited from his forefathers since time immemorial.

Rumors and whispers spread about the house, claiming that a great treasure lay hidden beneath it. Thus, many people flocked to him, offering the most generous sums to purchase it, but he turned them all away.

Meanwhile, Reema still believed the stories told about Ka‘b al-Ghazal’s house. When she learned of his wife's passing and his newfound solitude, she set her wiles into motion and devised a cunning plan. She abandoned her trade as a mourner, divorced her husband, Mishkah, and began weaving her snares around Ka‘b al-Ghazal.

She feigned sorrow over his late wife, frequently visited his home in his absence, endeared herself to his daughters, showered them with kindness, assisted them in their chores, and expressed sympathy for their plight. With time, she won their trust and ensnared them in her web, until the events unfolded as follows:

"O Aunt Reema! Aunt Reema! Where are you?"

"I am here, in the bakery, my dear."

"Aunt Reema, you are late today!"

"Ah, Fatima, it couldn't be helped. But tell me, won’t you let me help you?"

"And what could you possibly do, my child? Tend to your spinning and weaving with your sisters, so that when your father returns, he finds the wool spun and ready. Leave everything else to me."

"Oh, Aunt Reema, you remind me so much of my late mother! But aren't you overburdening yourself?"

"Fatigue, my dear, is but a small price for comfort."

"But still—"

"First, let me check the pot on the fire and add the salt and spices."

"You are so kind, Aunt Reema, and your heart is full of tenderness."

"You do not know how dear you are to me, my child. I visit you every day to check on you, yet even that does not satisfy me. The moment I leave, I long to return to you."

"I wish you could stay with us always."

"That is impossible, my dear. I must tend to my affairs and leave before your father returns."

"But even he wishes to see you, to thank you for your kindness."

"Your kindness is enough, my dear. You do not know how much your late mother meant to me."

As Reema busied herself, the girls continued their tasks. Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the air.

"Aah! My foot! My foot!"

"Halima! What happened?"

"The oil! The oil spilled on my foot, and it was boiling hot!"

"Let me see, my child. Show me your foot!"

"It burns, Aunt Reema! It burns!"

"Praise be to God—it is not as bad as it could have been. Stay still, my dear, and let me tend to it."

"Aunt Reema, do something! She is in pain!"

"Fear not, my child. I have just the remedy. Halima, my dear, let me fetch my ointment—it will soothe the burn."

"Wait—what ointment is this?"

"Shush, my dear, this is an old remedy, known only to me. Do not tell a soul, for it is a precious secret."

"Be careful, Aunt Reema! Be gentle!"

"There, there… may the Healer heal you, my dear. Now let me wrap it with a clean cloth."

"Ah! My foot!"

"Steady now, steady. The pain will ease soon. KaReema, bring a cushion for your sister to rest upon."

"Here it is, Aunt Reema."

"Now, Halima, lie down and rest. You must not move too much until the pain subsides."

"But I don’t want to sleep—"

"You must, my dear. Do you think you know better than Aunt Reema?"

"She is right, Halima. Just rest for now."

"Very well… but, Aunt Reema, I don’t know what we would do without you."

"Nor do I, my dear, nor do I…"

And when the night had deepened and the household settled into their evening routines, Fatima turned to Reema with eyes brimming with affection.

“Aunt Reema, ever since our mother passed, you have been our comfort. You have no idea how much we love you for your kindness and tenderness.”

“Oh, my dear, it is my duty,” Reema replied, feigning modesty.

“Then stay with us, Aunt Reema. Make yourself at home.”

“Oh, how I wish I could always be by your side,” Reema sighed dramatically.

“Then don’t leave us alone. How can I manage without you?”

“I must go, my dear. Your father will be home any moment.”

“So what, Aunt Reema? Why should that matter?”

Fatima insisted, “Our father sees all that you do for us. He is grateful and will be overjoyed to meet you.”

“No matter how grateful he may be, my dear, there are boundaries.”

“You are wrong, Aunt Reema,” KaReema interjected. “Our father—”

At that moment, the sound of the door creaking open interrupted them.

“Open up, KaReema!”

“Coming, coming, Father!”

The girls rushed to greet their father as he entered.

“Where is Fatima? Where is Halima? And KaReema? We have a guest tonight.”

“A guest?” KaReema asked.

“Yes. Aunt Reema.”

“Reema? Ah, welcome, Lady Reema!”

Reema, ever graceful, rose to her feet, her eyes filled with feigned humility.

“How are you, my dear lady? Life has certainly been full of surprises,” Ka‘b al-Ghazal remarked.

“Life is ever-changing,” Reema responded with a knowing smile.

But just then, he noticed Halima wincing in pain.

“What is wrong, Halima?”

“It is nothing, Father,” she replied, trying to dismiss it.

Karima intervened, “It was a small accident, Father.”

“What happened?”

“She spilled boiling oil on her foot,” Fatima explained.

“She has a minor burn, but by God's grace, I had ointment with me,” Reema added.

“May God protect you! You must be more careful, my child.”

“It wasn’t my fault, Father! The pan slipped from my hands. And if Aunt Reema hadn’t been here to help, it would have been worse.”

“Indeed,” Ka‘b al-Ghazal said, looking at Reema with gratitude. “Lady Reema, I do not have the words to express my thanks.”

“There is no need for thanks, Sheikh Ka‘b,” she said, lowering her gaze in false modesty.

“On the contrary,” he insisted. “This is a fortunate meeting. I have long wanted to see you, to settle an account.”

“Settle an account?” Reema’s expression stiffened momentarily.

“Yes, to pay you for all the things you have brought the girls.”

“You speak strangely, Sheikh Ka‘b. Do you think I seek payment?”

“But those things must have cost you money, Lady Reema.”

“I am merely repaying a debt I owe their late mother. You do not know how dear she was to me.”

“Oh, how fate plays its hand,” Ka‘b murmured. “May God grant you long life.”

“And may you and your daughters live in prosperity and happiness,” Reema replied smoothly.

Ka‘b al-Ghazal sighed and stood. “Well, now I must take my leave.”

“You’re leaving already?” Halima cried.

“Yes, my dear, it is time.”

“But, Aunt Reema, you must stay the night!”

“Yes, stay with us!” Fatima pleaded.

“You love us, don’t you?” KaReema added.

Ka‘b al-Ghazal watched the scene unfold, his daughters clinging to Reema, their eyes full of longing.

“Look at them,” Fatima said, turning to her father. “They are so attached to Aunt Reema.”

Halima, her voice still pained, whispered, “Please, Aunt Reema. Just for tonight.”

Ka‘b al-Ghazal hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. You are like a mother to them. You will stay here, in their room.”

“Yes! Aunt Reema, you must!”

Reema let out a soft sigh, a triumphant glint in her eye. “If it brings you peace, then I will stay.”

“It is settled, then,” Ka‘b said. “One night and no more.”

“One night,” Reema echoed with a knowing smile.

But within her heart, she whispered, Step by step… Today, it is the daughters. Tomorrow, it will be Ka‘b al-Ghazal himself. And then, the treasure and the wealth…

Yet, as she plotted, a shadow loomed over her plans.

Mishkah.

He was waiting.

“You may have divorced me, Reema,” he sneered, “but you still have dealings with me.”

From now on, she would remain in Ka‘b al-Ghazal’s home, among the children by day, and with you here—Mishkah—by night.

“And what will you do for me?” he asked.

“Whatever you wish.”

“The shroud business is yours,” she said coldly. “The stolen burial shrouds—you will sell them.”

Mishkah’s face darkened. “Reema, if you touch the price of a single shroud, I will see you buried alongside the dead you steal from.”

She smirked. “Such threats mean nothing to me. Do not forget—if you betray me, I will see your end before mine.”

His hands clenched into fists. “You dare?”

“I dare,” she hissed. “Now, go.”

He stormed away, cursing under his breath.

And as for Reema?

She returned to her old ways.

She wove her web, set her snares, and stepped into Ka‘b al-Ghazal’s home, ready to claim all she desired.

And here, Scheherazade realized the dawn had come, and she fell silent, leaving the tale untold.

Here is the 7th episode of our tale televised.

Till next night inshallah

You can check previous Ramadan Arabian Nights here.

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.