Ramadan Arabian Nights 2026: The Tale of King al-Nu’man “Where Is Karkoub? Ep.21”

Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.

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.

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.

Ep.21 Where Is Karkoub?

The One Hundred and Twelfth Night

        When it was the one hundred and twelfth night, and the next evening had come, King Shahryar took his seat as on the previous night.

At the appointed hour, Shahrazad appeared. She greeted him with the finest of greetings, and began once more to weave her tale—

Shahrazad said:

“I have been told, O fortunate king, wise in judgment…”

That Commander Kharoub, having been deceived by Uncle Karkoub, who presented him with the bead and the letter—

Moved his armies from their strongholds, and exposed their weak points to Daw’ al-Makan.

Thus the city fell into his grasp, and its mighty fortresses crumbled before him.

At that moment, Commander Kharoub, finding victory denied him and escape beyond reach, stepped forward.

He broke his ranks, laid down his sword, surrendered himself to the armies of al-Nu’man, raised the handkerchief of surrender—

And requested an audience with Daw’ al-Makan.

They took him as a prisoner and brought him before him.

One of the Commanders:
My lord, Daw’ al-Makan—victory is yours, O king of the age.

Your word is obeyed, your banner raised high, and fortune has answered your call.

Your enemy stands captive before you.

Here, my lord—this is the city of Hardoub… and this is its commander, Kharoub.

Daw’ al-Makan:
Kharoub.

Kharoub:
Mercy… mercy, O king of the age.

Daw’ al-Makan:
There is neither peace nor safety for you, Kharoub.

Kharoub:
I have come to surrender my sword.

Daw’ al-Makan:
You are defeated—what sword remains yours, Kharoub?

Kharoub:
And I bring you the key to the City of Hardoub.

Daw’ al-Makan (with a bitter laugh):
The key to the city?

You offer me what I have already taken by my sword—what I seized by my own hand?

Kharoub:
Have patience, Daw’ al-Makan. We are kings—yet time has turned against us.

Daw’ al-Makan:
No—you are the ones who turned against time!

You wage war against us in our own lands—

Have you forgotten what Stormbreaker did in ours? She killed my father!

Kharoub:
Because your father killed her daughter.

Daw’ al-Makan:
And she sought to kill my brother!

Kharoub:
Because you killed her son.

Daw’ al-Makan (sharply):
Do you argue with me, Kharoub?

Since when does the defeated speak?

The defeated bears the blame—is that not so?

Kharoub:
Even if he holds the truth—power itself becomes the truth.

Tell me, Daw’ al-Makan… have you secured time itself? Have you been granted its guarantee?

This world fades. Fortune shifts.

Each day brings its own rulers… and its own fallen men.

Daw’ al-Makan:
It is enough for me that you stand humiliated before me.

Kharoub:
This is not your doing, boy—it is the doing of time.

The same days that raised you have cast me down.

And perhaps a day will come when they cast you down… and raise me again.

(A sharp slap echoes)

Kharoub:
Ah! You… you strike me?

Daw’ al-Makan:
How dare you speak to me so?

Honor vs. Victory

Kharoub:
You may kill me—that is your right. But humiliation is not.

There is one thing that frees you from me—

The true victor… is the one who conquers himself.

Had I known you were so small, I would not have surrendered my sword… nor myself.

Daw’ al-Makan:
Silence!

Kharoub:
Daw’ al-Makan—you are drunk on victory.

But when the lion is in chains… even boys dare strike him.

Daw’ al-Makan:
There is one thing that will free you from your chains.

Where is Uncle Karkoub?

Kharoub (mocking):
The spy?

Daw’ al-Makan:
Where is he? Why do you not answer?

Kharoub:
Does he matter to you so much?

Daw’ al-Makan:
More than you can imagine.

If you do not tell me—

Kharoub:
What? What will you do?

You have defeated me—yet you are weaker than I am.

I will not tell you where he is. And you have no power to force me.

Daw’ al-Makan:
I will torture you.

Kharoub:
My own soul torments me enough.

I have been dead since the moment I surrendered.

Daw’ al-Makan:
And if I ask you with courtesy?

Kharoub:
You have already closed that door.

Daw’ al-Makan:
And if I beg you?

Kharoub:
Does the victor beg the defeated?

No—you will never find your way to Karkoub.

Daw’ al-Makan (coldly):
Pitiful… I will show you suffering, Kharoub.

Kharoub:
You are the pitiful one, Daw’ al-Makan.

The Kharoub who stands before you is already dead.

And the dead feel no pain.

Daw’ al-Makan (furious):
I will teach you how to speak.

Kharoub:
What life has taught me—you cannot.

Daw’ al-Makan (shouting):
I will make you speak—
Battash!

Battash (the executioner):
My lord!

Daw’ al-Makan:
Where is Karkoub, Kharoub? Will you not speak? Speak!

Strike him, Battash!

(Sound of the whip cracking)

Daw’ al-Makan:
Speak! Where is Karkoub?!

The whip falls again and again

Daw’ al-Makan:
Speak… cry out… say “ah”… say it!

Kharoub (in pain, yet defiant):
It would be shameful… shameful… if I cried out.

Strike… strike harder!

Daw’ al-Makan (coldly):
Every man has his time… and his dominion.

Two Months Later

Soldier:
For two months now, we have searched—and still we do not know where he is.

Daw’ al-Makan:
If it comes to it, tear down every house—stone by stone.

Alive or dead, you will find him.

And if you cannot… do not return.

Strange—an entire army searching, and yet no trace?

Try again with Commander Kharoub.

Soldier:
Even if we cut him piece by piece, he will not speak.

Another Soldier:
Perhaps he is dead, my lord?

Daw’ al-Makan:
I want to know if he is dead.

Soldier:
And what use would that be?

Daw’ al-Makan:
Then I will commend him to God.

I owe him a debt—and it must be repaid.

Shouts erupt from outside
“My lord! My lord! Karkoub! Uncle Karkoub!”

Daw’ al-Makan (rising):
At last—you have found him?

Alive… or dead?

Soldiers:
Alive, my lord—praise be to God!

Daw’ al-Makan:
Where is he?

Soldiers:
He is coming behind us—we rushed ahead to bring you the news!

Karkoub enters, breathless, exhausted

Karkoub:
Ah… Daw’ al-Makan…

Daw’ al-Makan:
Uncle Karkoub! Thank God for your safety!

Karkoub:
May God preserve your life, my son…

Daw’ al-Makan:
You troubled us greatly, Uncle Karkoub…

Come… come…

Did they torture you?

Karkoub:
It was written for me…

Daw’ al-Makan:
A trial brings its reward.

He who plucks the rose must endure its thorns.

Karkoub (dryly):
What rose?

Daw’ al-Makan:
You have endured much.

Karkoub:
So that I may fulfill what was written.

Daw’ al-Makan:
It is over now, Uncle Karkoub.

The wars have ended.

Hardship has passed, and days of ease have come.

You have planted… and now it is time to reap.

You have done a good deed—and must be rewarded.

I am in your debt.

Karkoub:
In my debt?

Daw’ al-Makan:
Yes—a debt I must repay today.

Karkoub:
But I am owed nothing.

Daw’ al-Makan (firmly):
You shall be grateful.

Daw’ al-Makan does not forget.

Today is the day of recompense.

Today is the day of fulfillment.

Today—the time has come.

Summon the court!

Royal horns sound. A crowd gathers.

Daw’ al-Makan:
O people of the Kingdom of Hardoub!

The hardship has passed, and the wars have ended.

Peace and safety to all who seek peace and safety.

We are now brothers—brothers.

Hatred has died, and Hardoub is no more.

The causes of vengeance have vanished.

God has delivered you from the devils of war and destruction—

And replaced them… with an angel.

(A pause—then the proclamation)

Daw’ al-Makan:
I freed you from the oppression of King Hardoub.

And today…

I appoint over you…

King Karkoub!

(Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd)

Karkoub (stunned):
Wait—wait…

Daw’ al-Makan (to the guards):
Obey!

Karkoub:
Me… a king?

Daw’ al-Makan:
More than a king.

Karkoub:
What are you saying, O king of the age?

I… a king?

Daw’ al-Makan:
I told you—you are more than a king.

You are an angel.

Karkoub (bewildered):
Have you all lost your minds?

Karkoub—the garbage man—

Daw’ al-Makan:
Do not say that, Uncle Karkoub.

You are no garbage man.

Karkoub:
No—I am a garbage man!

Daw’ al-Makan:
You are a king among men.

Karkoub (half-laughing, half-breaking):
What a fate…

From garbage man… to king?

These are orders?

“Eat, Jabir—eat!”

And my name remains Karkoub?

King Karkoub?

King Nu’man… King Daw’ al-Makan… King Sharkan…

And then—King Karkoub?

Ha! Ha!

I am the garbage king… the garbage king…

Daw’ al-Makan (declaring):
King al-Zabalkan!

The Crowd (chanting):
King al-Zabalkan!
Victory to King al-Zabalkan!

Shahrazad :

And so Uncle Karkoub sat upon the throne of King Hardoub.

The garbage man became king over men—

Glory be to the One who changes all conditions.

They named him King al-Zabalkan, and his fame spread far and wide.

People flocked to his court, competing to stand before him.

Poets came, casting before him garlands of praise.

Yet King al-Zabalkan found no joy in kingship…

Nor did the days sit lightly upon him.

For…

(The rooster crows)

Shahrazad:
And here, O King, the dawn has come—

And I must fall silent, leaving the tale untold.

And before the tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.

Till next night inshallah

You can check the 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.