Today marks Nakba Day, and although the Nakba is not just history but an ongoing reality — one that now seems to be expanding far beyond the land of Palestine — it remains important to remember the past and set the record straight.
For 78 years, one narrative was largely embraced and amplified across much of the Western world. That is why it is important — and our duty — to highlight the long-neglected Palestinian narrative.
This year, I urge you to watch these short clips.
It is May Day — Labour Day, aka International Workers Day in Egypt — and I have to say that, despite all the official statements, I am a bit disappointed and angry.
Two weeks ago, Egypt had its own mini–Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, and it did not stay in the news cycle for more than 72 hours — or, to be more accurate, the social media news cycle — before it disappeared. And that made me angry.
On 14 April, a tragic incident unfolded in the Ard El-Geneina area of Cairo's working-class Al-Zawiya Al-Hamra neighbourhood, after a massive fire broke out inside a sports trainers and sneakers factory on Mohamed Amin Street.
Preliminary investigations confirmed seven people dead, as civil defence forces continued to comb through the site to identify any additional casualties or injuries resulting from the blaze.
That was the initial official statement. Then, unofficially, the details of the tragedy began to emerge.
Seven young women died, and five others were injured after a fire broke out in an unlicensed shoe manufacturing workshop in a very narrow alley in Cairo's Zawiya Al-Hamra district, authorities said.
The blaze erupted inside a three-storey building of approximately 70 square metres per floor, operating without a license as a leather shoe production facility. The ground floor was used for storage, while the first and second floors served as production areas — a layout that accelerated the fire's spread due to the concentration of flammable materials on site.
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| The so-called factory after the fire |
The victims were girls between 19 and 30 years old, earning roughly 100 Egyptian pounds per day.
An initial inspection found a complete absence of occupational safety measures and no emergency exits, which investigators say trapped the workers as the fire spread rapidly through the smoke-filled space over nearly four hours.
Eyewitnesses reported that the doors were locked and the windows were closed and secured, blocking any means of escape.
Residents called for a full investigation and accountability for all parties responsible, starting with the workshop owner, who denied any wrongdoing. Security forces arrested the workshop's owner following the incident.
The incident — a grim echo of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire — renewed scrutiny of unlicensed industrial operations and the enforcement of safety regulations in residential buildings across Cairo.
On Wednesday, Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities announced that an Egyptian archaeological mission had uncovered a massive ancient statue at the Tell El-Faraoun site in El-Husseiniya, Sharqia Governorate.
The statue is believed to depict King Ramesses II of Ancient Egypt’s New Kingdom.
Carved from pink granite, it was found missing its lower half, including the legs and base.
Despite its incomplete state, archaeologists say the surviving features clearly point to royal iconography associated with Ramesses II.
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| The remains of the statue found at the location "SCA" |
According to the Supreme Council of Antiquities (SCA), the discovery offers new insight into royal and religious life in the eastern Nile Delta.
Initial studies suggest that the statue may not have originally stood at Tell El-Faraoun. Instead, it was likely transported in antiquity from Per-Ramesses—the royal capital during Ramesses II’s reign—to the site, known in ancient times as Imet, where it may have been reused within a religious complex.
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| The excavation site at Tell El-Faraoun in Sharkia governorate "SCA" |
I hesitate to say it, but such archaeological announcements have become almost routine in Egypt these days, appearing every few days.
What I did not expect, however, was for this particular discovery to attract widespread attention and go viral—until a report by the Daily Mail the following day reframed the narrative.
Updated on Thursday, 23 April
2026: a Kuwaiti court acquitted US-Kuwaiti journalist Ahmed
Shihab-Eldin on all charges following nearly two months of
detention. He has not yet been released, though.
Updated on Saturday, 25 April 2026: Ahmed Shihab-Eldin and left Kuwait safely.
The news came officially from the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ).
Ahmed Shihab-Eldin, an award-winning Kuwaiti-American journalist of Palestinian origins who posts prolifically on social media, especially on Twitter, where he is known as @ASE, was arrested in Kuwait on March 3, 2026.
"It is understood that authorities have charged him with spreading false information, harming national security, and misusing his mobile phone – vague and overly broad accusations that are routinely used to silence independent journalists," the CPJ statement said, calling on the Kuwaiti government to release him.
In the days before his detention, Shihab-Eldin — who was visiting his family in Kuwait — shared publicly available videos and images related to the US-Israel war on Iran and the Iranian retaliation on Gulf states, just as any respectable professional journalist would do in his place.
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| Ahmed Shihab El-Din in Doha Film Festival |
On March 2, he shared photos and videos of a US fighter jet that crashed in Kuwait on Substack.
That video had been geolocated and verified by CNN. None of his posts were photos or videos he took himself.
What makes this case particularly absurd from a legal standpoint is the timing.
Kuwait enacted Law No. 13 of 2026, aimed at safeguarding and protecting the supreme interests of military authorities, on March 15— nearly two weeks after his arrest on March 3.
He was therefore arrested and charged under a law that did not yet exist at the time of his alleged offense.
The law carries prison terms of up to 10 years for spreading false rumours related to military entities with the intent of undermining confidence in them.
CPJ launched a campaign for his release under the hashtag #FreeAhmed with an online petition.
Several international organizations including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch demanded his release.
The story was covered by several Western news outlets. Several US senators and members of Congress raised his case as an American citizen — but as of today, nothing has moved on the Kuwaiti side.
Updated: Most critically — as of yesterday, April 22: his international legal counsel issued an urgent statement saying they were "extremely concerned for Ahmed's safety and wellbeing" in Kuwaiti detention.
It is Orthodox Easter, and tomorrow is Sham El-Nassim, our ancient spring festival in Egypt — but it does not feel like a time for celebration, given the relentless grim news of wars and a troubling wave of suicides in Egypt.
Tonight, people — mostly OSINT armchair analysts — discovered that the Apple Maps app, on both iOS and desktop, does not display the names of cities and villages in South Lebanon. At the same time, it does show place names in North Lebanon, northern Israel, and southern Syria.
Some are attributing this to a glitch, but I have my doubts. If Apple Maps can display the names of alleyways in Cairo and neighborhoods in Gaza, it should certainly be able to show village names in South Lebanon.
Several Lebanese users have also noted that those names were visible until as recently as last week.
I checked both the iOS and desktop versions and compared them with Google Maps — the difference is striking.
Here is the Apple Maps version (identical across iOS and desktop), followed by the Google Maps view.
Happy Easter to all those celebrating today—especially
Egyptian and Sudanese Coptic Orthodox Christians, as well as Palestinian and
Lebanese Orthodox communities.
On this occasion, I’m sharing a photo of the Church of the Martyr St. Philopater Mercurius in Mohandessin, Giza—commonly known as “Abu Sefein,” or “the man of two swords.”
This interview was likely one of the most-viewed videos in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates over the past week.
The interview is in Arabic. I wish I could remember the name of the AI service that translates YouTube videos and provides English subtitles. I came across one but forgot the name. If you know it, please drop it in the comments.
It features Emirati political scientist Dr. Abdulkhaleq Abdulla in conversation with Dr. Rabab Al-Mahdy on the podcast “El-Hal Eah?” (“What is the Solution?”).
The podcast is produced by Alternative Policy Solutions (APS), a public policy research project at the American University in Cairo (AUC).
For me, “El-Hal Eah?” has been one of the most important interview podcasts in Egypt in recent years, tackling a wide range of issues—from politics and economics to history and law. This episode marks the opening of the podcast’s seventh season.
The interview was recorded in Cairo during Ramadan, just days before the outbreak of the Israeli-American war on Iran. It runs for over an hour.
For those unfamiliar with him, Dr. Abdulkhaleq Abdulla is one of the UAE’s most prominent political science professors and commentators on social media.
Most notably, he previously served as an advisor to Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed (MBZ), the president of the United Arab Emirates.
Abdulla is also known for his book The Gulf’s Moment, in which he argues that leadership in the Arab world has shifted from traditional powers—such as Egypt, Syria, and Iraq—to rising Gulf states, particularly the UAE.
He appeared on the show to address accusations that the UAE has become the “Sparta of the Middle East.”
Rabab El-Mahdi is an associate professor of political science at the American University in Cairo (AUC). She currently leads AUC’s Alternative Policy Solutions (APS) research project.
Al-Mahdy succeeded in bringing into mainstream Arabic media discussions that had largely been circulating informally on social media—particularly regarding the evolving rivalry, or “frenemy” relationship, between Saudi Arabia and the UAE.
Egypt was struck by a massive African sandstorm, commonly known in Egyptian history and tradition as the Khamaseen.
Today, Generation Z jokingly refers to it as a “Mexican filter.”
Khamaseen sandstorms were recorded in ancient Egypt under the name “Resut,” or “south wind,” and were associated with Set — the lord of the desert, chaos, and storms. Yes, the same Set from the myth of Isis and Osiris, where Osiris was the lord of the Nile and the fertile valley.
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| The Pyramids of Giza during the storm on Thursday Ibrahim Kandel |
They are mentioned in the Book of the Dead, where the south wind is described as “the breath that burns the lungs,” prompting the use of protective amulets or prayers to Thoth, the god of wisdom and knowledge, to temper Set’s ferocity.
But why were they called “south winds” when they often seem today to come from the west, sweeping in from the Sahara?
The gates of our city will never be sealed—
For I am going there to pray.I will knock on every door—
And the doors will open, one by one.And you, O River Jordan, will wash my face
With waters holy and pure.And you, O River Jordan, will wipe away
The footprints of the savage passing through.
When I saw the photos of Cardinal Pizzaballa standing in prayer outside the walls of Jerusalem’s Old City—barred from entering the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to mark Western Palm Sunday—I was reminded of the words of the Rahbani Brothers, immortalized in 1967 by Fairuz, the Lady of Lebanon, in “Zahrat al-Mada’en” (زهرة المدائن), meaning “The Flower of Cities.”
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| Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa holding the Palm Sunday Mass outside the walls of old Jerusalem "AFP" |
Jerusalem’s doors were, indeed, closed to worshippers on Palm Sunday 2026—for the first time in centuries—under the Israeli occupation of the Old City.
The Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem and the Custody of the Holy Land said in a joint statement that, on the morning of Palm Sunday, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, and the Custos of the Holy Land, Fr. Francesco Ielpo —also the official guardian of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre—were prevented from entering the church as they headed to celebrate Palm Sunday Mass.
And so, it turned out to be one last winter storm—not the beginning of a nuclear winter, as many online in Egypt feared on Tuesday.
In case you missed it, Egypt is currently experiencing a brief period of unstable weather, including thunderstorms and heavy rainfall.
The Egyptian Meteorological Authority (EMA) had issued early warnings, stating that the wave would begin on Tuesday evening, bringing rain, slightly cooler temperatures, and stronger winds across several regions before gradually improving by the weekend.
According to the EMA, the instability would start along the northwestern coast—including Salloum, Matrouh, and Alamein—before spreading to the Nile Valley and Sinai.
Rainfall was expected to intensify on Wednesday and Thursday, becoming more widespread and occasionally accompanied by thunderstorms, particularly along the northern coast, the northern Delta, and parts of Sinai. Lighter showers were forecast to reach Greater Cairo and the Canal cities.
For once, the Egyptian government took a proactive step, suspending classes in schools and universities on Wednesday and Thursday to spare millions of Egyptians the usual traffic chaos.
Ironically, Tuesday itself felt like a calm, early-spring day across the country.
That calm, however, fueled suspicion. Some began to believe something more sinister was coming—and within hours, that suspicion evolved into a full-blown conspiracy theory, amplified by a video from the Kuwait National Guard.
Watch this interview with Dr. Mohamed ElBaradei, former Vice President of Egypt and former Director General of the International Atomic Energy Agency, in which he discusses Iran and the current war.
ElBaradei speaks with David Hearst of Middle East Eye.
Mohamed ElBaradei was heading the IAEA when it began talks with Iran in 2009. He was also leading the UN’s nuclear watchdog in 2003 when he stated explicitly that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction.
What is happening to Iran, the Nobel Peace award laureate says, reminds him of Iraq—perhaps even worse, to be honest.
Happy Eid and Happy Nowruz to everyone celebrating this Friday and Saturday around the globe.
I know it is not the best time in the Middle East to celebrate anything, or even to be optimistic from a logical and realistic standpoint. But even in the darkest of moments, Eid and Nowruz bring happiness and solace to the believers.
On the occasion of Eid and Nowruz, I am sharing with you this sincere illustration by the famous Egyptian illustrator and painter Hussein Biccar.
Originally of Turkish Cypriot descent, Biccar was a Bahá'í and thus celebrated Nowruz as well.
Now, a word about greetings — "Eid Saeed," or Happy Eid, is what we say in Egypt. "Eid Mubarak" is a newer term imported from the Gulf. And yes, here in Egypt, "Mubarak" will always be Hosni Mubarak first!
Recently, I have noticed many non-Egyptians using "Eid Saeed," and it genuinely makes me happy.
Happy Eid to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Tonight, we reached the end of our tale, the tale of King al-Nu’man.
I hope it was a nice break away from politics.
I hope you enjoyed.
Now, before we find out what King Karkoub will do next, let’s have one more quick chat.
First of all, the ending of the original Omar al-Nu’man was nothing like Taher Abu Fasha’s radio adaptation. In the original text, there is no kind-hearted Karkoub and no sweet wife; they were purely Abu Fasha’s additions, created to lighten the mood of the tale.
In the original version, Sharkan is killed by Shawahy, and Daw’ al-Makan eventually becomes King after a long, grueling journey. The original story of Omar al-Nu’man was not fun, easy, or light—it was a dark epic.
Scheherazade began the tale of Omar al-Nu’man on the 44th night of the One Thousand and One Nights and didn't finish it until the 145th. It took her 101 nights in total to tell the story, which means this single epic accounts for about 10% of the entire book.
You can find the original tale in the One Thousand and One Nights, available in both Arabic and English. “Vol.1 , Vol.2, Vol.3 and Vol.4”
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 113th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, we will find out the fate of the humble garbage man Karkoub after saving the day several times for al-Nu’man’s brothers—but first, it’s time for our usual chit-chat.
It is short, very short, as we are near the very end of our tale this year.
The actor voicing Karkoub, the kind-hearted garbage man, is the late Egyptian actor Kamel Anwar.
Although he is not widely known, lovers of black-and-white films like me recognise him well for his distinctive voice.
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Kamel Anwar was born on 8 March 1912. He graduated from Al-Sa‘idiya School in 1925, where he was a classmate of Anwar Wagdi.
He began his career as an employee in the General Affairs Department of the Armed Forces before turning to acting, where he participated in military theatre and later worked with several theatrical troupes, including the famous Tholathy Adwaa El Masrah.
He also appeared in numerous films in supporting roles, including Cairo 30, Angel and Devil, and The Soft Hands.
Over the course of his career, he took part in nearly 100 artistic works across cinema, theatre, and radio series. He passed away on 20 September 1973.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 112th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, we will find out what Karkoub will do behind enemy lines—but first, it’s time for our usual chit-chat.
We have previously discussed how Taher Abu Fasha set his version of the al-Nu’man saga in the pre-Islamic era. However, in the original tale from The Thousand and One Nights, the story is placed within the time of the Umayyad Caliphate.
The narrative is associated with the period before the reign of Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan.
Here, however, The Thousand and One Nights falls into a major literary issue: anachronism.
One striking inconsistency is that Omar al-Nu’man is portrayed as a king ruling from Baghdad—a city that was not founded until the Abbasid period, decades later. The saga effectively places him in Baghdad roughly 80 to 100 years before the city even existed.
When looking into the reason behind this, historians suggest that medieval compilers of the Nights in Egypt and Syria viewed Baghdad as the quintessential “City of Kings.” They simply could not imagine a great ruler without Baghdad as his capital, and so they projected the city backwards in time.
Another inconsistency is that Sharkan is depicted as the governor of Damascus, which was itself the capital of the Umayyads.
That said, in a vast and imaginative work of fiction like The Thousand and One Nights, such anachronisms remain relatively minor.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Tonight, we will find out what al-Nu’man’s brothers will do after discovering Stormbreaker in their war camp.
But first, it is time for our chit-chat.
In the original tale of Omar al-Nu’man in The Thousand and One Nights, several real cities are explicitly mentioned.
Omar al-Nu’man is portrayed as the king of Baghdad and Khorasan. He appoints his eldest son, Sharkan, as governor of Damascus.
King Hardoub is the ruler of Caesarea, as in Taher Abu Fasha’s radio adaptation. However, Constantinople—the capital of the Byzantine Empire—is mentioned in the original text but omitted in Abu Fasha’s version.
Jerusalem and Mecca also appear multiple times. Shawahy travels to these places to learn more about Muslims. In addition, in the original tale, al-Nu’man’s twin sons journey to the Holy Land and Mecca on pilgrimage, passing first through Jerusalem—rather than going on a hunting trip, as depicted in the radio adaptation.
Aside from Caesarea, Abu Fasha largely replaces real locations with fictional cities in his version of the story.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 110th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, we will know what the Dervish in the chest will bring to the al-Nu'man brothers' camp, but first, it is time for our chit-chat.
Last night, we spoke about how Storm Breaker in the original One Thousand and One Nights was called Shawahy zat al-Dawahy—Shawahy of many schemes.
Tonight, we explore her because she stands as one of the most powerful and wicked female figures in the Nights, to the point that she becomes a symbol of evil itself.
Shawahy is not your typical Queen Mother. In the version of the Nights I read, she is a sorceress among sorcerers—skilled in magic and deception. She is cunning, immoral, and deeply treacherous. She studies Islamic texts and travels widely, even journeying to Mecca and residing in Jerusalem in disguise, observing different religions and learning their inner workings.
She was also a bisexual woman who slept with men and women and sexually abused her granddaughter. It was among the main reasons why Abriza escaped with Sharkan.
Yes, this is one of the earliest encounters in the text with sexual abuse, incest, and same-sex relations. It is not presented erotically, but rather in a way that makes the reader despise the character.
After the tragic death of Abriza, King Hardoub—her father—seeks revenge. However, his elderly mother, Shawahy, takes it upon herself to exact vengeance without significant loss.
Her son agrees, and thus her scheme begins. She tells him, “Do not grieve. By God, I will not turn back until I kill King al-Nu’man and his sons. I will accomplish a deed that will leave even the cunning in awe, and people will speak of it across all lands.”
With cold precision, Shawahy defines her objective: to kill al-Nu’man and his sons.
Tonight, we will see who will win the next round of battles: Hardoub or al-Nu’man’s brothers.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
This time, I promise it will be a short chit-chat.
One of the differences between the original Omar al-Nu’man in The Thousand and One Nights and al-Nu’man in Taher Abu Fasha’s adaptation is the character of Stormbreaker.
In the original text, she is called Shawahy zat al-Dawahy—which can be rendered as Shawahy of many schemes.
I am not sure why Abu Fasha changed her name, though he still used the phrase “of many schemes” in the radio version.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 108th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, we will learn how al-Nu’man’s children come to their senses and stop fighting over their father’s throne.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
It won’t be about how history becomes myth, but rather about one of Egypt’s legendary supporting actors who plays a role in our tale. Tonight, I will speak about the late Egyptian actor.
Tonight’s chit-chat will not be about how history turns into myth, but rather about one of Egypt’s legendary supporting actors who plays a role in our tale. Tonight, I will speak about the late Egyptian actress Naima Wasfi.
Naima Wasfi plays the role of the wicked Stormbreaker, the scheming woman who got rid of al-Nu’man and was on the verge of sparking a civil war among his sons.
Wasfi was among the queens of supporting actors in Egypt and the Arab world during the 20th century.
Born in February 1923 to a middle-class family in Upper Egypt’s Assiut, Naima Wasfi’s theatrical talent began to emerge while she was still in primary school. She started her creative journey by writing short stories, poetry, and zajal (colloquial verse). Later, she worked as a teacher before eventually settling in Cairo.
In Cairo, she began frequenting theatres and gradually became acquainted with people in the artistic community. There, she met the actress Nagla Ibrahim, who encouraged her to pursue acting.
As a result, Naima Wasfi enrolled at the Institute of Dramatic Arts, founded by Zaki Tulaimat in the mid-1940s, and obtained her diploma in 1947. She was then appointed to the Modern Theatre Troupe, which Tulaimat had established for the institute’s graduates.
Wasfi later moved to the National Theatre Troupe. In 1952, she began her career in cinema, making her first appearances in Egyptian films. Over the course of her career, she appeared in more than 30 films.
In addition to acting, she also wrote several television series and worked on numerous radio shows.
Aside from her artistic work, Naima Wasfi wrote a weekly column in Rose al-Youssef magazine. A longtime socialist, she served as Secretary for Women’s Affairs in the Arab Socialist Union for the Greater Cairo area. She contributed to literacy campaigns that helped educate many young women.
She was married to the journalist Abdel Hamid Saraya after what was described as a great love story. The couple had three children.
Out of deep love for her husband, she later wrote a moving elegy after his death—a poem so painful that she rarely wished to speak about it.
Naima Wasfi passed away on 7 August 1983 at the age of 60.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 107th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, we will learn how al-Nu’man’s children come to their senses and stop fighting over their father’s throne.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
Tonight’s chit-chat will not be about how history turns into myth, but rather about one of Egypt’s legendary actors who plays a role in our tale.
Tonight, I will speak about the late Egyptian legendary director and actor Nour El-Demerdash, who voiced Daw’ al-Makan.
Nour El-Demerdash was one of Egypt's most versatile figures in the world of performing arts, leaving a lasting mark on theatre, cinema, radio, and television over nearly five decades of creative work.
Born on November 12, 1925, in Tanta, in the Gharbia Governorate of Egypt, El-Demerdash first earned a bachelor’s degree in commerce in 1955, followed by a bachelor’s degree from the Higher Institute of Theatrical Arts in 1956.
He began his theatrical career working under the renowned Egyptian theater pioneer Zaki Tulaimat, an experience that shaped his disciplined approach to acting and storytelling.
On screen, Nour El-Demerdash became well known for portraying the charming young romantic lead — the charismatic playboy — in the 1950s
Tonight, we will learn what happened to al-Nu’man’s offspring after learning of their father’s death.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
After the arrest and subsequent execution of Al-Nu'man III ibn al-Mundhir by order of the Sasanian emperor Khosrow II, the Lakhmid rule over Al-Hirah in southern Iraq and parts of Arabia came to an end.
Khosrow II made sure of that by appointing Iyas ibn Qabisah al-Ta'i to govern Al-Hirah in place of the Lakhmids. But the story did not end there.
As we learned last night, al-Nu’man’s daughter Hind, a famous poetess and a Lakhmid Nestorian Christian princess, played a role in the falling-out between her father and the Sasanian Empire.
According to popular legend, Khosrow himself wished to marry Hind, but both she and her father rejected the proposal. The story goes that the Sasanian ruler then demanded that the Arabian tribes hand over Hind, along with the rest of her family and her father’s royal armor, as a sign of submission. The tribes, however, refused.
Historical sources suggest a slightly different version of the story. Some accounts say that it was not Khosrow himself but rather one of his relatives who sought Hind’s hand in marriage—and she rejected him. This rejection was among the factors that eventually led Khosrow to turn against al-Nu’man.
Events escalated quickly. The Lakhmid king fled his capital, Al-Hirah, and sought refuge among the powerful Banu Bakr. He was not alone—Hind was with him.
According to later traditions, Hind did not remain passive. She is said to have worked to encourage alliances among Arabian tribes to avenge the fall of her dynasty. Still, she was not the only reason for what would soon unfold.
The Banu Bakr confederation—an emerging political force stretching from southern Iraq deep into Arabia—was already unhappy with the rule of Iyas ibn Qabisah and the growing influence of the Sasanians in the region.
Eventually, the Banu Bakr tribes decided they had had enough. Against all odds, they confronted the powerful Sasanian Empire in battle —and won.
Muslim traditions place the battle anywhere between 602 and 624 CE, but according to modern scholarship cited in the Encyclopaedia Iranica, most historians now narrow the likely date to sometime between 604 and 611 CE.
Tonight, we will learn what happened to King al-Nu’man and how he ultimately met his fate. But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
Our chit-chat tonight will focus on two things: what happened to the real historical inspiration behind our tale—Al-Nu'man III ibn al-Mundhir—and how his dramatic end marked the beginning of another ending: the fall of the Lakhmid kingdom and, not long after, the decline of the Sasanian Empire.
It also helped inspire one of the most famous pre-Islamic Arabian epics.
According to Arab historians, even though King al-Nu’man once gave refuge to the Sasanian King Khosrow II, son of Sasanian King Hormizd, during his flight from the usurper Bahram Chobin in 590, and even fought alongside him to help restore him to the throne, the two rulers eventually fell out.
According to legend, their falling-out happened after al-Nu’man rejected Khosrow’s proposal to marry his daughter, Princess Hind. Some historical accounts, however, suggest that the proposal may actually have come from one of Khosrow’s relatives rather than from the king himself.
But that was not the only reason for the rift. Al-Nu’man also fell out with his former tutor and the powerful Sasanian court official and Arab envoy Adi ibn Zayd. Accusing him of plotting against him, al-Nu’man ordered his execution. Adi’s son—who had the ear of Khosrow—then managed to turn the Persian ruler against al-Nu’man in what feels like a real-life Game of Thrones scenario.
No wonder that show was such a hit in the Middle East.
Several historical traditions describe what happened once al-Nu’man realized that Khosrow intended to remove him from power.
One famous Arabian account says that al-Nu’man fled his capital and sought refuge among the powerful Banu Bakr of Arabia. He was eventually forced to surrender and, according to the story, executed by being trampled by elephants.
Tonight, we will know what is next for al-Nu’man siblings after years of separation—but first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
Our chit-chat tonight will be about our tale’s title hero, al-Nu’man.
By now, you know that our tale for this Ramadan was inspired by an original One Thousand and One Nights story: the saga of King Omar al-Nu’man. One of the main differences between the original tale and our radio adaptation, trimmed for Egyptian State Radio by Taher Abu Fasha, is that the king’s name became al-Nu’man instead of Omar al-Nu’man.
It is unclear why Abu Fasha changed the name; frankly, it is beyond me. My only interpretation is that, just as he pushed the story back into pre-Islamic times, rather than the Umayyad era, as in the original tale, he may have chosen to focus on the root inspiration of the protagonist: al-Nu’man.
Anyone familiar with the history of Arabia and ancient Iraq will immediately recognize that inspiration. The most famous historical figure bearing that name was Al-Nu'man III ibn al-Mundhir, the last king of the Lakhmid kingdom of al-Hirah in ancient Iraq.
If you are familiar with Arabian myths and epics that predate The Book of One Thousand and One Nights, you will know that al-Nu’man and his family inspired some important legends and heroic tales.
The Lakhmid kingdom—commonly known in the Arab world as al-Manādhirah (المناذرة)—was an Arab kingdom that ruled parts of southern Mesopotamia and northeastern Arabia from the late 3rd century until 602 CE. It was governed by the Nasrid dynasty of the Banu Lakhm tribe, and its political center was the city of Al-Hirah.
Tonight, we will discover what King Sharkan and Princess Nuzhat al-Zaman will do to mend the tragic events reminiscent of a Greek tragedy—but first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
Did you know that the name Sharrkan is not a classical Arabic name?
It is believed to have Persian-inspired roots. The first part, “Sher”, means lion in Persian, while the second part, “Kan”, can suggest a den or place.
Together, storytellers interpreted it as “Lion’s Den.”
However, this is likely a literary invention rather than a historically attested Persian name. It was crafted to give the character a heroic and exotic flavor, fitting the world of One Thousand and One Nights.
That’s all for tonight’s chit-chat; I’ll keep it short.
Let us now see what will happen to al-Nu’man’s offspring in the 102nd episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, as we discover what happened to Princess Nuzhat al-Zaman and her fate as a slave girl—much like her mother, the Princess of Atrashan—it is time for our little chit-chat.
The original tale of King Umar al-Nu'man in One Thousand and One Nights, on which our story is based, is one of the most shocking narratives in the entire collection, particularly in the way it confronts taboos that resonate in both Eastern and Western storytelling traditions.
It is also one of the few tales in the original book that deals with incest, in a manner reminiscent of Greek tragedy, presenting the theme as a dark twist of fate and a moral warning about destiny and unintended consequences.
In the original story, King Umar al-Nu’man unknowingly fathers a child with his own daughter Nuzhat al-Zaman.
As a child, she had been kidnapped and separated from her family. Years later, she is purchased as a slave by her elder brother Sharkan.
Believing her to be a noble-born captive and not recognizing her true identity, he decides not to keep her but instead presents her as a gift to their father.
The tragic irony of the tale lies in the fact that Umar al-Nu’man dies without ever discovering the truth.
In his famous radio adaptation, however, Taher Abu Fasha chose not to present the story exactly as it appears in the original text.
Instead, he refined and reshaped it to suit a broader audience in Egypt and the Arab world, softening some of its most troubling elements.
And now, enough of our chit-chat. Let us return to our tale.
Let us now see what will happen to our lost prince in the 101st episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, as we discover what happened to Daw’ al-Makan after the guards seized him from the caravan because of his sorrowful singing, it is time for our little chit-chat.
Tonight is a very special night in the history of the One Thousand and One Nights.
It is the 100th episode — a true milestone for one of the longest-running radio shows in the history of Egyptian and Arab broadcasting.
Despite this celebration, our chit-chat tonight is still tied to our tale.
The names of our twins, separated by slave traders, are Nuzhat al-Zaman and Daw’ al-Makan. Taher Abu Fasha kept these same names from the One Thousand and One Nights story of Umar al-Nu'man, without changing them in his radio adaptation.
The name Nuzhat al-Zaman means “Delight of the Age,” while her brother Daw’ al-Makan means “Light of the Place.” At first glance, they may sound like purely fictional names, but historically, they are not entirely unusual.
These names follow a well-known naming tradition from the medieval Islamic world. During the Abbasid Caliphate, it was common for royals, scholars, and prominent figures to use honorific names formed by a noun followed by elements such as al-Din (“of the Religion”), al-Dawla (“of the State”), or al-Zaman / al-Dahr (“of the Age” or “Time”).
For example, the famous medieval poet and man of letters Badi' al-Zaman al-Hamadhani — whose real name was Ahmad ibn al-Husayn — used the title Badi’ al-Zaman, meaning “Wonder of the Age.” His surname al-Hamadhani simply means “from the city of Hamadan.”
Enough of our short chit-chat.
Let us now see what will happen to our lost prince in the 100th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, as we await whether Daw’ al-Makan will find his twin sister, it is time for our little chitchat.
Unlike the original tale of the One Thousand and One Nights, Taher Abu Fasha chose to place the events of King Nu’man’s story in pre-Islamic times in his radio adaptation.
In the original Umar al-Nu’man saga from One Thousand and One Nights, the story is loosely set during the era of the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750 CE), particularly during the long series of wars between the Islamic Empire and the Byzantine Empire.
The narrative even mentions the famous general Hassan ibn al-Nu'man, a real historical figure who served as the Umayyad governor of North Africa under Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan and his son Al-Walid I.
In the radio show, however, Abu Fasha preferred to keep the setting deliberately vague, placing the events in a more distant pre-Islamic past.
Enough of our short chit-chat.
Let us see what our lost prince will do in the 99th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
When it was the Ninety-Ninth Night, and the following evening had come, King Shahryar took his seat as on the previous night. Then Scheherazade entered at the appointed hour and began to recount what had happened, joining the thread of the tale to what had come before.
And she said:
“O happy King, wise in judgment, it has reached me that Prince Daw’ al-Makan, when he heard from the garbage collector that he knew the place where the Bedouins had settled—the very Bedouins who had carried off his sister, Princess Nuzhat al-Zaman—his heart leapt with joy, and his breast opened with relief, until he was near to flying from the excess of his happiness.
Yet the garbage collector refused to reveal the name of the tribe unless the prince agreed that he should accompany him and serve as his guide. Finding no other choice, the prince consented. The garbage collector made ready for the journey, and with him went his wife Karkouba, after he had purchased a mount for the road.
Thus the three of them set out together, riding upon the beast and traveling day after day and night after night. They crossed barren plains and desolate wildernesses, passed through valleys and over deserts, until two months had gone by and Prince Daw’ al-Makan grew restless with longing.
Then suddenly Karkouba cried out, for she had sighted tents pitched in the distance. The three hastened toward them and soon arrived among them. It was a tribe dwelling upon the highlands. When they asked for the chief of the tribe, they were told it was the Bedouin Fahd—the very man who had carried off Nuzhat al-Zaman and cast Prince Daw’ al-Makan aside upon the road.
At once the prince hurried to him and entered his tent.
The Bedouin chief welcomed them warmly, saying:
‘Welcome, welcome indeed! Blessed be those who come to us and blessed be those who settle among our people.’
But the prince said to him:
‘It seems, O Sheikh of the Arabs, that you do not recognize me.’
The chief looked upon him yet did not recall him, and he called to his men to prepare hospitality for the guest, ordering that a camel be slaughtered in his honor.
Tonight, as we await what King Nu’man’s twin will do after turning from being royals to Slaves, it is time for our little chitchat.
As we may have guessed, tonight we will be introduced to a character that works as a garbage collector.
Historically, the garbage collector as a profession appeared in Ancient Mesopotamia, Ancient Egypt and Ancient Persia but not as we know now.
In Ancient Mesopotamia, while there wasn't a specific job title for "Garbage Man" in 3000 BCE, texts mention "Sweepers" and "Porters."
Sweepers were typically employed by temples and palaces to keep sacred grounds clean, while Porters might be hired by wealthy families to haul heavy waste to "middens" (city-edge dumps).
In Ancient Egypt, as early as 2100 BCE in the city of Heracleopolis Magna, records suggest that elite and religious districts had designated laborers who swept the streets and collected refuse in baskets.
In Ancient Rome, street cleaners and slaves removed refuse, while the Cloaca Maxima helped carry waste away from the city.
We will stop here. We return back to the history of garbage collection professions again.
Let us see what the siblings will do in the 98th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Tonight, as we await what King Hardoub will do after what happened to his daughter Abriza, it is time for our little chitchat.
The main theme of tonight’s episode is simple: karma is not fooling around—what goes around truly comes around.
King Hardoub is paying the price for what he once did to Atrashan, and King Nu’man, in turn, will also pay the price for what he has done to Abriza.
But enough chitchat.
Let us see how the two kings will face the consequences of their deeds in the 97th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
And when it was the Seven and Ninetieth Night, being the night that followed, King Shahryar took his seat as on the previous evening. Scheherazade came at her appointed hour, and the king rose to receive her, took her by the hand, and seated her in the place of highest honor. Then she began to recount what had passed.
She said:
“It has reached me, O fortunate king, wise in judgment, that when the slave Al-Ghadban saw the dust rising and spreading across the horizon, he left the princess lying upon the ground and fled for his life, spurring his horse deep into the desert waste.
And when the dust that had filled the wilderness cleared away, it revealed King Hardoub the Mighty at the head of his dread host. When he beheld his daughter slain before him, he lowered his banners, proclaimed his grief and anguish, lifted her body, and bore her back to his city. And when her burial was complete, he sent for her grandmother, Storm-Breaker.”
When she entered upon him, he cried:
King Hardoub (weeping):
“Mother! Have you seen how Abriza’s story has ended?”
Storm-Breaker:
“That my sorrow may grow heavier! Yet I shall not abandon my blood.”
King Hardoub:
“Abriza!”
Storm-Breaker:
“Weeping is for the brow of the dead, Hardoub. Death is written upon every child of Adam.”
King Hardoub:
“Would King Al-Nu‘man do this to my daughter?”
Storm-Breaker:
“My heart burns for her, my son… God knows all. Evil is repaid with evil, and the one who begins injustice is the greater wrongdoer. Hardoub! Enough of tears and lamentation. Shame upon a man who weeps while his blood lies spilled and his vengeance still unclaimed.”
Before we continue and know what will happen to Abriza — it’s time for our little chit-chat.
*Spoiler and warning*
Tonight’s episode is a bit graphic — in fact, it is one of the most graphic episodes written by Taher Abu Fasha.
It deals with rape. Remember, this was written and broadcast on Egypt’s State Radio in the 1950s — a period often considered the peak of social conservatism in the country.
Because of that warning, I must say that this episode — and its original version in One Thousand and One Nights — particularly the part concerning Abriza, strongly reminds me of the tragedy of Medea, the princess and priestess of Colchis. Medea turned against her own people and left her kingdom out of love for Jason, only to face rejection in his homeland and descend into tragedy.
Abriza’s story offers a similar form of indirect wisdom, echoing the structure and moral weight of Greek tragedy. It serves as a cautionary tale — a warning to women everywhere, across time and place, to think carefully and not follow the heart blindly.
Now enough talking. I hope the episode won't be alarming to anyone.
So without further delay, here is the fourth episode of our story: The Tale of King al-Nu’man, the 96th night of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Ramadan Kareem,
It may be wartime, but before we get busy with everything that comes with it, let’s take a short break and watch this brief video clip from Seasons & Streets about Cairo’s Ramadan bazaar in El-Sayeda Zeinab in 2026.
You have already seen the photos from there, so now it is time for the video. "Choose English subtitles"
I first wrote about this bazaar—or rather the street where it is held annually—mainly El-Sadd El-Barani Street, officially known as Youssef El-Sebai Street, back in 2023. But this year, we take a step further and look at the history of the market itself and how it grew into the largest seasonal makeshift market in Cairo, if not in Egypt.
Historically, the Sayeda Zeinab Ramadan bazaar was not the original center of Ramadan lantern production.
The historic hub of khayamiya (traditional tentmaking appliqué) and lantern craftsmanship was Tah’t Al-Rab‘, near Bab Zuweila, an area associated with these crafts since the Fatimid and Mamluk eras.
But before we find out what happens to Sharkan on the battlefield, it’s time for our little chitchat.
Abriza—the name of our warrior princess whom we met last night—is neither Byzantine in origin nor a fabricated invention.
It is, in fact, the feminine Arabic form derived from ibriz, meaning pure gold. Yes, Abriza quite literally means “the Golden One.” Within the world of the One Thousand and One Nights, to name a Byzantine princess Abriza, is no accident. It is a poetic gesture—a way of calling her “pure gold.”
The name reflects the medieval Arabic imagination of Byzantium as a realm of immense wealth: golden palaces, churches adorned with gilded mosaics, and women of radiant beauty. And perhaps, in more ways than one, she has already proven herself worthy of that name.
I will pause here—and I hope you will enjoy what comes next.
So without further delay, here is the fourth episode of our story: The Tale of King al-Nu’man, the 95th night of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Before we continue our tale and learn what will happen to Prince Sharkan on the battlefield, it is time for our quick chat.
Tonight, we will be introduced to a new set of characters — Byzantine figures, or as they were known in our region, the people of El-Rūm, the Roman Byzantines.
The people we call “Byzantines” today never used that term themselves; they called themselves Rhōmaioi — Romans.
As I was reading the original tales, I was reminded of the legendary Amazon warrior women of Greek mythology — that enduring image of the warrior princess.
Historically, however, Byzantium did not have its own Amazonian female military force. After all, we are speaking of a society deeply shaped by the structures and moral authority of the Christian Church.
Yet Byzantium, like Rome before it, inherited and absorbed Greek culture — including Greek mythology and its fascination with warrior women.
That Greek influence even appears in Byzantine epic poetry. In the tale of Digenes Akritas, for example, we encounter the female warrior Maximo, who is described as having Amazonian ancestry.
I will pause here, because this is a long episode — and I hope you will enjoy what comes next.
So without further delay, here is the third episode of our story: The Tale of King al-Nu’man, the 94th night of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
Before we continue our tale and learn the fate of Princess Atrashan, it is time for our quick chitchat.
Unlike other tales, King al-Nu’man got names and places inspired by real names and places, especially in Pre-Islamic times.
Starting with King Kanaan, Atrashan’s father, it is a good introduction to speak about the land of Canaan.
Kanaan is the Arabic version of Canaan, and it is associated in Egypt with the Levantines as a name popularly till this day, and it is not a coincidence at all.
Starting with King Kanaan, Atrashan’s father, this serves as a good introduction to speaking about the land of Canaan.
Kanaan is the Arabic form of Canaan, and, in Egypt, the name has long been associated with Levantines — a connection that persists even today, and it is no coincidence.
The first known historical appearance of the name Canaan (or Kanaan) was in ancient Egyptian sources during the New Kingdom of Egypt, beginning in the 15th century BCE.
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The term — written in Egyptian hieroglyphs as something like kꜣ-n-ʿ-nꜣ — appears in inscriptions referring to a region in the Levant.
Now that we’ve finished the story of King Sajur and his sons — which was certainly not your usual Arabian Nights “Aladdin gets the princess” tale — I am proudly presenting to you The Tale of King al-Nu’man.
This story is not one of the later additions or so-called “orphan tales.” It is an original saga from the core Arabic text of One Thousand and One Nights.
To be precise, it is based on The Tale of King Omar al-Nu’man — the longest single tale in the entire book. Yes, it is truly a saga in every sense of the word.
I was genuinely surprised to learn that Taher Abu Fasha and Mahmoud Shaaban adapted this story for a general Egyptian and Arab radio audience. The original tale of Omar al-Nu’man is absolutely 18+. It is, without exaggeration, the true Game of Thrones of the Nights. It was one of my earliest shocks when I first read the original Arabic edition.
For me, the saga of Omar al-Nu’man is among the most explicit stories in the collection. It combines epic wars, rival kings, and — spoiler alert — themes that include incest, same-sex relationships, racism, classism, and misogyny. It is the kind of grand, chaotic epic that someone might enjoy on screen without fully grasping what it is actually critiquing or warning against.
In many ways, it reflects the moral and political decay associated with the later Abbasid era — or at least the literary imagination of that decline — which ultimately preceded the empire’s fall before the army of Genghis Khan.
Many Western readers reduce The Nights to a book of sensuality and exotic eroticism. But in reality, it is also a book of political wisdom — a mirror held up to rulers and subjects alike. The tale of Omar al-Nu’man is one of those early, shocking narratives meant to deliver lessons — especially to a king like Shahryar.
I hesitated to share this story during Ramadan. I wasn't sure how Taher Abu Fasha would handle such heavy material. But after listening to a couple of episodes produced during the tense era of the “War of the Radios” — amid the conflict between Nasser and the Al-Saud leadership of Saudi Arabia and King Hussein of Jordan — I decided to give it a try.
The themes of war, power, and rivalry felt strangely fitting.
And Taher Abu Fasha — an underrated master writer — did more than simply summarize and dramatize the longest tale in the book for Egyptian radio.
In my view, he did an extraordinary job preserving the spirit and moral core of the saga, even while applying the necessary censorship to make it suitable for a general audience.
Believe me — you will enjoy this one.
