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Competition also had a new category this year for disabled pupils.
An Abu Dhabi pupil was crowned the winner of the UAE Arab Reading Challenge in Dubai on Friday.
Emirati schoolgirl Amna Al Mansouri, who read 128 books during the academic year, took top spot ahead of more than 500,000 pupils.
Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid, Vice President and Ruler of Dubai, praised those who took part.
“Today, the UAE celebrated 514,000 students from state schools who participated in the Arab Reading Challenge – whose Arab and international participation reached 24.8 million students,” he said on Twitter.
“I congratulate Amna Mohammed Al Mansouri, and her family, for coming in first place. Amna read 128 books during the academic year.
“Two years ago, Amna lost the ability to walk, but that did not stop her. She soldiered ahead and sailed across the vast ocean of knowledge and literature. The challenge was the beginning of a life-changing experience.
“Today, Amna can walk once again, she has won the Reading Challenge and has authored two stories.
“She will represent the country in a few days at the International Physics Olympiad in Tokyo.”
Amna took the top prize ahead of Mohammed Al Hammadi and Iman Daoud.
The competition had a new category this year for disabled pupils. Emirati pupil, Ghareeb Al Yamahi, won first place, with Ghaya Zainallah coming in second place.
“I also congratulate the student Gharib Al Yamahi who won first place in the reading challenge in the category of people of determination,” Sheikh Mohammed said.
“Gharib is blind in sight but he is not a stranger in the path of achievement.
“Gharib read 130 books during the academic year in Braille. He is a writer of articles, a speaker and an inspiration to all of us. When a blind person reads 130 books, sighted people should review themselves.
“All the best to Gharib who, with his persistence and willpower, represents the saying that ‘nothing is impossible in the UAE’.”
The ceremony was attended by Sarah Al Amiri, Minister of State for Public Education and Advanced Technology.
Largest in the world
In May, Sheikh Mohammed said the annual Arab Reading Challenge had become the largest event of its kind in the world.
He said 24.8 million pupils from 46 countries had taken part in this year’s competition.
It was launched in 2015 to encourage a million young people to read at least 50 books in a year.
The challenge usually starts at the beginning of the academic year, around September, and continues until the end of the academic year.
The Arab Reading champion is selected based on the pupil’s ability to articulate general knowledge, critical thinking and communication skills, plus the diversity of books they have selected.
A Syrian schoolgirl who survived a deadly missile attack during the civil war in her country was crowned the Arab Reading Challenge Champion in November.
Sham Al Bakour, who was seven when she was named winner, was only six months old when her family’s car was struck during violence in Aleppo in December 2015.
Her father was killed while she and her mother survived the horrific attack.
She completed a remarkable journey from tragedy to triumph to win words of praise from Sheikh Mohammed.
The young literature lover read 70 books to win the competition.
When asked about what she would do with the Dh1 million ($270,000) prize money, she said she would give it to her mother.
Hard truths beneath the exuberant arrangements of the Somalian-British singer-songwriter and activist strike a chord for others uprooted from their homeland.
The small stage at the Liverpool Philharmonic Music Room is bathed in lilac light as an acoustic drummer, a conga percussionist, two guitarists and then a saxophonist and keyboard player take their places.
For a few minutes, a laid-back jam session ensues until the lead singer weaves his way towards the microphone, expertly adjusts the stand and, without preamble, begins the set.
It is opening night of the city’s annual Arab arts festival, and the intimate audience, though it’s a decade since Aar Maanta and the Urban Nomads’ debut UK tour, is in for a rare treat: live Somali music played with instrumental accompaniment.
“Always with a band,” Maanta confirms to The National, “because there has been a cultural tendency to sing with playback music. I wanted something a little more genuine. I just thought: ‘I’ll be strict and do live shows.’
“I did playback one time when I was in my home town in Jijiga and I felt like I was cheating people, you know?” he adds, laughing.
Those gathered are making the most of the opportunity, clapping, bobbing their heads, dancing and singing along with Maanta’s soulful voice, the smooth tones of which a reviewer once aptly described as coloured by “the dusty echo of the desert”.
Midway through the live performance, he introduces a song called Uur Hooyo (Mother’s Womb) written by the oud virtuoso and renowned composer Ahmed “Hudeidi” Ismail Hussein.
“Unfortunately, he passed away in 2020 due to Covid in London,” Maanta tells the audience. “He was my teacher and taught me about music and generally about history, the connections between the Horn of Africa, Yemen and this area. There are so many connections here.”
As Maanta tells me, the gig is packed with significance as the port city welcomed the earliest members of the UK’s now 100,000-strong Somali community in the late 19th century.
Some of those mostly seamen and traders arriving by ship from the former British colony of Aden brought ouds – the short-necked, stringed instrument whose earthy notes are the signature of Somali folk music.
Maanta’s body of work across two albums and an EP is a poetic and, at times, urgent soundtrack of that migrant experience.
Finding his voice
Born Hassan-Nour Sayid in the capital of the Somali Regional State in Eastern Ethiopia, his creative journey began in the home of his auntie in Hargeisa, where he and his two siblings were raised.
“It was a good house,” he says. “Altogether, there were 10 children inside and it was fun. I was well cared for and, because there were so many of us there, I felt like I had many older sisters.”
Though his great-grandfather was Mohammed Abdullah Hassan, the Somali nationalist revered as a skilful oral poet, his maternal aunt was the one responsible for encouraging an early love of the arts.
Looking back, Maanta recalls the rhythms and melodies of the Iftin Band and those of Hudeidi himself emanating from an old transistor in the kitchen to intermingle with the aromas of Mandi, the traditional Yemeni dish of meat and richly spiced rice.
“My auntie used to sing these old Somali songs on the radio, and I would always listen and sing along because I loved the music,” he says.
“Now, this was the Eighties, so radio was very limited. Whenever the radio goes off, she would basically ask me to sing some of her favourite songs again and I would. It was beautiful.”
Though Maanta doesn’t much like talking about it now – “It’s a pretty common story and not a good one,” he has said – he was separated from his brother and sister when taken by an uncle to relocate to London in the late 1980s, on the cusp of the civil war.
“When I first arrived in the UK, I remember how strange it all was. We moved from a big house to a small apartment and the corridors were so tiny.”
Those tighter living conditions, however, were offset by the expansive music options afforded by the multicultural society of his adopted home where the rustic tracks favoured by Maanta’s auntie soon made way for hip-hop and R’n’B.
“I lived in Brixton and when you are younger you don’t realise it was the hood in those days. I remember it was a rough area, but I made plenty of Pakistani and West Indian friends,” he says.
“Then, of course, there was the Brixton Academy, a famous music venue. As a child, I wasn’t allowed to go in but I remember the posters outside of some of my favourite groups like Jodeci and Guy.”
For somewhat different reasons, a famous band from Liverpool featured at that time, too. As a newly arrived pupil in an inner-city primary school, the young Hassan could often be found scribbling words such as: “You think you’ve lost your love, well, I saw her yesterday,” into an exercise book.
“I had a teacher for English support who was amazing. He would say: ‘Right, if you like music then listen to these and write them down.’ He was into The Beatles. There was one song in particular: She Loves You.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,’’ Maanta says with enthusiasm, unconsciously repeating the refrain that took the world by storm in the mid 1960s. “They’re effective. The lyrics show the economy of language and how to structure as well. It’s better, I think, than studying Shakespeare because you learn that sometimes five words are more important than 10 if you know how to use them.
“Literally, music was a weird and easy way of learning.”
Maanta was shy and introverted growing up, which meant a lot of alone time that he used to teach himself the oud and piano in his late teens and early twenties.
His family were disapproving of music as a career so he embarked on a science degree at Sheffield University, but resistance was useless: “If it’s your dream,” he says, “it’s what keeps you alive.”
Averse to the idea of becoming a solo singer, he decided to work with other UK-based Somali artists as a producer and arranger.
But after one artist refused to take part in a function in London in 2001 due to a last-minute financial dispute, Maanta stepped in to perform the planned classic Somali hits.
“I remember how nice it felt to be able to convey a message to an audience from the stage. It gave me the encouragement that I can do this.”
But Maanta, whose professional name combines his nickname (Aar, meaning Lion) and the title of one of his most popular songs (Maanta, or Today), wasn’t planning on being just another vocalist for hire.
Seeking a distinct sound, he composed his own songs for a new generation of Somalis who, seeing live bands from other countries, yearned for the same form of entertainment from their own homeland.
“It’s mostly the same band line-up but, if people are not available, because of logistics and all that, then I go with whatever I can find.
“I just genuinely feel like if you’re gonna perform, you’re gonna perform. If you don’t wanna perform, and you wanna do playback, it’s fine. But live music is meant to be with live instruments.”
Part of the appeal is that expatriates hear their own experiences reflected in the mix. Hiddo & Dahqan, the debut album released under his label Maanta Music, is a revelation for its fluid blend of percolating Somali pop with oud-centred love songs – a genre called Qarami – and the bobbing bass lines of Afro-pop.
Dig beneath the exuberant arrangements, however, and there are some hard truths to be heard. By the time the album came out in 2008, Maanta had been touring regularly across Europe and the US but visa delays and long vetting by immigration officials were making a gruelling schedule more intolerable.
The frustration of being constantly under suspicion is encapsulated brilliantly in the song Deeqa, a popular girls’ name that Maanta translates as “Suffice” but points out that it was also how Somali Airlines, which ceased operating in 1991, became known.
For the music video, a recreation of an interrogation at Heathrow Airport, a tired Maanta is quizzed by officials about his travel plans in scenes that struck a deep chord within and beyond the Somali diaspora.
“I still keep getting messages to this day from all over about how people relate to this song, and it makes me feel so proud of it.
“There was even a barrister in the UK who tweeted how he used that song to train immigration officials on how to not deal with people in this kind of situation,” he says.
Music with purpose
Deeqa proved a turning point for Maanta in harnessing the power of the protest song. He began to infuse more sociopolitical subjects into his lyrics while leveraging his burgeoning profile to raise awareness of issues such as the refugee crisis.
Some of his frustration was particularly channelled into 2016’s Tahriib, or “Dangerous Crossings”, an a cappella piece written after a family member fell victim to human trafficking.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees subsequently reached out to ask him to re-record the song with collaborators including the Somali singer and former refugee Maryam Mursal, the Egyptian musician Hany Adel, and the Ethiopian singer Yeshi Demelash, in a multilingual campaign highlighting the perils of fleeing across the Gulf of Aden and Red Sea from Africa.
Maanta returned to Jijiga in 2015 as a United Nations Goodwill Ambassador and visited two refugee camps. “The environment was not really new to me. Even for some of us Somalis who didn’t go through this, we know our family experienced those situations,” he says.
“But it was tough to see the young people there. Yes, while they have some facilities like schools and food, they need more than that. They have dreams, they want to go out and achieve things, but they are not able to leave those places.”
Three years later, Maanta took his insights right to the top at a meeting with the then Somali president Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed.
“We spoke about how there are a lot of Somali youths in difficult situations, such as camps in Libya or even forced into slavery,” he recalls.
“I just told him: ‘You guys need to do your job more and help those people.’ ”
No surprises, though, to hear that Maanta’s potent advocacy is not part of a plan to pave a way into the febrile world of Somali political life.
“Absolutely not,” he says. “Politics is generally very toxic and I do feel that African political leaders really don’t have much influence to change things at the moment.”
For the children
It was in Minneapolis rather than Mogadishu where he found an example of inspired leadership. Arriving in the US state of Minnesota in 2021, home to the country’s largest Somali population, Maanta was an artist in residence at The Cedar Cultural Centre for two years.
In a project funded by The Joyce Foundation, the Chicago-based philanthropy organisation, he teamed up with the esteemed poet, playwright and custodian of the Somali language Said Salah to compose and record songs that would become Ubadkaa Mudnaanta Leh (Children Have Priority).
“Myself and Professor Said Saleh didn’t decide to sit there and write the songs – we wanted the kids to share their experiences,” he says of promoting Somali heritage by seeking the lyrics and vocals of children aged five to 15.
“They were so enthusiastic about the whole process mainly because of the Somali language itself. They were curious and excited and that really influenced the way we created the songs.”
Form of creative therapy
The resulting EP is a stirring collection of bilingual offerings from a proud yet sometimes misunderstood community, the centrepiece of which is I Am Part 1 & Welcome to Cedar Riverside, a two-song suite in English that sheds light on the lives of those who live in “Little Mogadishu on the Mississippi”.
Through the album’s recording process, Maanta realised he was providing a form of creative therapy for Somali youth by giving them a platform to voice what they were facing in the West such as being in a minority with a different faith; struggles with their mother tongue; and the politics of the then-President Donald Trump.
“I also met a few kids who were autistic, and I realised how important an issue it was within the Somali community, particularly in the diaspora. One of the songs in the album is sung entirely by an autistic child.”
Some of these compositions were heard live for the first time in The Music Room on Friday, where the 25-degree heat prompted Maanta to half-lament that it’s always “the hottest day” whenever he goes to Liverpool.
After more than three decades in the UK, he has come to prefer the cooler months of autumn to those of summer not least because of their unpredictability.
“It seems like you don’t know what’s to come. Everything’s kind of changing,” he explains.
Maanta seems as mutable as his favourite season, telling The National that he now wants to make working with youth the focus of his future efforts.
“Any artist can make songs with the aim of becoming popular but when you cater for children it leaves a lasting impression, especially when there is a need.
“And when it comes to Somali children, the need is the greatest now because there is nothing really out there to cater for them musically. If your country is struggling, obviously making music for children is not going to be a priority.
“I want to make that change,” he says with a passion that echoes some of the poetry for which Somalia is famed.
As a musician he is already widely regarded as the bridge between the old generation and new, but he just may be about to perform his greatest gig of all.
The Liverpool Arab Arts Festival 2023 continues until July 16. For more information, go to: www.arabartsfestival.com/
Young Moroccan women are bringing new and inclusive energy to the centuries-old art of Gnaoua, a spiritual musical repertoire traditionally reserved for men.
Also known as “tagnaouite”, it gained worldwide recognition after it was listed by UNESCO as intangible cultural heritage in 2019.
“Why shouldn’t women be part of this dynamic?” asked Asma Hamzaoui at the Gnaoua World Music Festival in Essaouira, a southern coastal city steeped in the musical tradition.
The 26-year-old Casablanca native is one of the first women to perform Gnaoua, which blends African rhythms with spiritual chants and poetry.
Her father, a Gnaoua master, initiated her into the artform at a young age.
“I’ve accompanied him to his evening gatherings since I was seven years old,” recounted the young woman, who in 2012 formed the group “Bnat Timbouktou”, or The Girls of Timbuktu.
“I gradually learned to play the guembri, a three-stringed lute made of camel skin. My father made sure that I learned as much as possible before I flew solo.”
The all-female ensemble wowed the festival-goers — with Hamzaoui on vocals and the guembri, and four musicians on qraqeb steel castanets.
They played alongside the Amazones d’Afrique, another all-female group, from Mali.
‘Feeds the spirit’
“It’s exceptional to have women playing Gnaoua music, which shouldn’t be reserved for men,” said Hamza Tahir, a member of the audience. “They bring fresh air into this music.”
Inspired by Bnat Timbouktou’s success, rising star Hind Ennaira developed her passion for tagnaouite in her hometown of Essaouira.
Its fortified citadel on the Atlantic coast is a breeding ground for the mystical musical tradition, in which religious hymns invoke ancestors and spirits.
Originally practised by enslaved people and dating back at least to the 16th century, Gnaoua has gone from being practised largely in private gatherings, where therapeutic rituals accompanied the music, to public events such as concerts and festivals.
“The city of Essaouira is the cradle of tagnaouite,” said Ennaira, who was taught to play the guembri by friends. “It is beautiful heritage that feeds the spirit. It is important for young people to value it.”
Ennaira put her own touch on the tradition by bringing in a guitarist and drummer to accompany the traditional ensemble.
“At first, there were some differences because they were not used to working with a woman,” she said. “But after some challenging exercises, they adapted to me and we became complementary.”
‘Jimi Hendrix’ style
Yousra Mansour — the front woman of the band Bab L’bluz (“The Blues Gate”), which fuses Gnaoua, rock and blues — also encountered challenges entering the music scene.
“There were two constraints for me: first, the fact that this field is usually reserved for men, but also how we interpret traditional music,” the musician told AFP.
“It is not very accepted or even tolerated by some of the stricter individuals.
“We replaced the bass with the guembri and the guitar with the awisha (a small guembri) and created a kind of ‘power trio’ in the style of Jimi Hendrix with reimagined traditional instruments,” explained Mansour.
The 32-year-old vocalist passionately defends women’s freedoms, saying that “as a woman, I have not had an easy life”.
“There was a lack of women in this field. When I see Asma Hamzaoui or Hind Ennaira, they are magnificent,” she said.
“It is not easy to evolve in a predominantly male universe, but we see changes emerging.”
New course offers four tracks specific to journalism, humanitarian work, health care and business
“Arabic for Professionals” carricula are proofed by Arabic academics from top universities
Six Syrian refugees in the US have crafted the “Arabic for Professionals” course launched on Wednesday by NaTakallam, a refugee-powered social enterprise that provides language learning, translation and interpretation services.
The course’s contents have been proofed by Arabic academics from top universities, such as the American University of Paris, according to a press release by NaTakallam.
Tailored for upper-intermediate and advanced Arabic students, “Arabic for Professionals” offers four tracks specific to journalism, humanitarian work, health care and business.
“The program is the outcome of conversations about common teaching challenges among NaTakallam language partners, especially when it comes to Arabic in practice,” said Carmela Francolino, NaTakallam’s talent and community manager.
“After defining the general profiles of our students and their needs, the necessity of structured courses for intermediate and advanced students was clear, as were the topics we needed to focus on,” she said.
Combining synchronous and asynchronous learning, “Arabic for Professionals” provides flexibility to fit busy schedules. The curricula are divided into several units, including exercises to reinforce each point and ten one-hour private lessons with an experienced tutor.
In addition to a focus on Modern Standard Arabic, a lingua franca used across the Arabic-speaking world, the one-on-one tutoring sessions offer students the opportunity to practice what they have learned in spoken dialects of Levantine Arabic.
Multiple pilot students have noted that the blended structure of the course provided an impetus for them to continue learning the language after their progress had stalled.
“For NaTakallam, whose core mission is to showcase the talents of displaced and conflict-affected people, it is especially meaningful that our language partners are not only teaching this curriculum but have created it in its entirety,” said Aline Sara, co-founder and CEO of NaTakallam.
Besides the new Arabic for Professionals program, NaTakallam offers an Integrated Arabic Curriculum, a 25-hour course that teaches Modern Standard Arabic and Levantine Arabic concomitantly, as well as one-on-one language tutoring in Arabic, Armenian, French, Kurdish, Persian, Russian, Spanish and Ukrainian.
Longtime scholar Linda Jacobs calls it “the best-kept secret in New York history.” She is talking about New York City’s forgotten Syrian enclave of immigrants (often referred to as Little Syria) that once thrived in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, forming the first Arab-speaking community in the US.
As part of an initiative supported by Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, Jacobs led in-person walking tours on Washington Street, the main hub of Little Syria, this summer. For Jacobs, it is a story that hits close to home.
Just-landed Middle Eastern immigrants at Ellis Island, ca. 1905. (Supplied)
All four of her grandparents emmigrated from modern-day Lebanon in the late 1800s, moving to Washington Street. “I was just interested in doing my family genealogy, and more importantly, for me, understanding if the myths or stories we were told as children in our family matched the reality … Some made it, some didn’t,” she told Arab News.
Aside from the presence of Arabs, Washington Street was home to other nationalities, including German and Irish families. It was an economic and cultural center, full of stores, cafes, and factories. It was not a bed of roses, though, according to Jacobs.
Built on landfill, Washington Street suffered from poor living conditions and a lack of clean air. Because the area was located near the tidal Hudson River, water would come up through the basements of tenement buildings.
60-62 Washington Street, where dozens of Syrian-owned businesses were located, 1903. (Supplied)
To make matters worse, the rate of infant mortality, due to tuberculosis, was high. “It makes you cry, it’s really sad,” said Jacobs. “You can imagine that people did not want to remember this time of their lives, and I think that’s why my grandmother never talked about it. She never mentioned the word(s) ‘Washington Street’.”
A majority of the people referred to as Syrians who came to New York City most likely hailed from Lebanon, seeking better economic opportunities. Those who initially arrived were farmers and laborers, later followed by wealthier classes. The lucrative trade of peddling was a common profession amongst Syrians, who saved up money to open their own businesses and relocate to safer boroughs, such as Brooklyn.
By the 1940s, the Syrian community was non-existent on the street. The physical neighborhood was destroyed, making way for building the Brooklyn–Battery Tunnel. Today, Washington Street is a neglected area, where only three buildings, including the facade of St. George’s Melkite Church of the Syrian Community, have survived, but most lack landmark status granted by the city.
Conducting such walking tours around the area is important for Jacobs. “All were surprised because no one had any idea that this community existed,” she remarked. “It’s a mixed blessing, because in a way, it’s a real lesson to others to try and save their communities from total destruction. And on the other side, it’s very sad to have it all be gone.”
source/content: arabnews.com (headline edited)
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New York City’s forgotten Syrian enclave of immigrants (often referred to as Little Syria) thrived in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. (Supplied)
Dalila’ will join ‘Mousa’ as part of director Peter Mimi’s action-packed cinematic universe, ‘The Underdogs’.
Actress Yasmine Sabri is suiting up as Egyptian cinema’s first female superhero!
Peter Mimi – the director of famed Ramadan series ‘Al Ikhtiyar’ (The Choice) – is expanding on the superhero cinematic universe he created for his 2021 action film ‘Mousa’ starring Karim Mahmoud Abdelaziz and Eyad Nasser, in which a shy engineering student creates a powerful robot to avenge his father.
Joining ‘Mousa’ as part of Mimi’s ‘The Underdogs’ franchise will be ‘Dalila’, where Yasmine Sabri will star as a badass motorcyclist on a mission for justice. Filming for ‘Dalila’ has already begun, with Sabri currently undergoing intense physical training and motorcycle training to prepare for the film’s intense action sequences (which, if ‘Mousa’ was anything to go by, will be absolutely explosive). The Avengers who?
While Sabri is working on her super stunts, the actress has already wrapped up filming for ‘Bo’ Bo’ starring Ami Karar and ‘Abou Nasab’ starring Mohamed Emam, both of which will come out during the Eid al-Adha holiday.
‘Dalila’ is set to hit movie theatres in 2023, although details on the rest of the cast has yet to be announced.
The King Salman Global Academy for Arabic Language has launched the “Khawalid” initiative, an audio platform that aims to record 1,000 selected poems from the pre-Islamic era, in line with the Ministry of Culture’s Year of Arabic Poetry.
Abdullah Al-Washmi, secretary-general of KSGAFAL, told Arab News that the initiative, which translates to “living forever,” aimed at enriching Arabic content in various media.
He said: “Strengthening the role of the Arabic language is part of the set of goals from which the King Salman Global Academy for Arabic Language stems.”
One of its goals is to highlight the scientific, cultural and civilizational status of the Arabic language. It aims to create a platform that helps preserve Arabic content in the field of poetry.
Al-Washmi added that it will also make poetry, especially Arabic poems from the pre-Islamic era, more accessible to the public.
He said: “It highlights the value of the Arabic language, which expresses the linguistic depth in Saudi Arabia, to bring it closer to the public and endear them to it, to deepen its status, and to raise awareness of it as an integral part of the identity of the Arab person.”
The initiative will focus on the era that began approximately 150 to 200 years before Islam, and the KSGAFAL will direct work over all stages.
Its task will involve verifying work and its attribution to its author, along with determining the meaning and integrity of the content.
The selection will be limited to poems that are no less than 10 verses, taking into account the diversity of the poets and the selected works.
Al-Washmi said: “Poetry in the pre-Islamic era constitutes an important literary material that can be invested in building linguistic knowledge, enriching the artistic and aesthetic experience, and contributing to linking the contemporary generation with its authentic literary heritage.
“This initiative confirms the KSGAFAL’s interest in the culture and arts of the Arabic language, in addition to its great care in planning, teaching and computerizing it, striving in all of this to achieve its goals, which are a target of the Human Capacity Development Program, one of the Saudi Vision 2030 initiatives.”
Kassem Istanbouli, Lebanese actor-director, and Hajer Ben Boubaker, French researcher and sound director, were awarded the 19th UNESCO-Sharjah Prize for Arab Culture at an award ceremony at UNESCO Headquarters in Paris on 26th June 2023.
The event, organised by the Sharjah Department of Culture in collaboration with UNESCO, celebrated the achievements of two winners.
The ceremony was attended by Abdullah bin Mohammed Al Owais, Chairman of the Sharjah Department of Culture; Ernesto Ottone Ramirez, Assistant Director-General for Culture at UNESCO; Mohammed Ibrahim Al Qasir, Director of the Department of Cultural Affairs in Sharjah; Ahmed Al Mulla, Deputy Ambassador of the UAE to France, and Aisha Al Kamali, Representative of the Cultural Attaché at the Embassy of the UAE in France, along with dignitaries, writers, intellectuals and accredited diplomats to the United Nations (UN).
Al Owais and Ramirez presented the 19th edition of the UNESCO-Sharjah Prize for Arab Culture to Istanbouli, winner of the Arab Personality Award, and Ben Boubaker, winner of the Non-Arab Personality Award.
The UNESCO-Sharjah Prize for Arab Culture recognizes recipients’ outstanding artistic achievements celebrating Arab art and culture globally. Core to UNESCO’s anti-racism and anti-discrimination agenda, the Prize promotes peace and dialogue to foster intercultural understanding and celebrate diversity.
For this 19th edition of the Prize, the international jury recognized Mr Istanbouli and Ms Ben Boubaker’s extraordinary contributions to promoting the arts and Arab culture and supporting their local communities.
Kassem Istanbouli is a Lebanese actor and director. Since 2014, he has led the rehabilitation of historical cinemas in Lebanon, including Stars Cinema in Nabatieh, and Al-Hamra and Rivoli in Tyre, abandoned or destroyed during civil war.
Mr Istanbouli is involved with several international projects focused on skills enhancement, youth empowerment and collaborative partnerships. In 2020 he co-founded the Arab Culture and Arts Network (ACAN) to design and implement online cultural activities across the Arab region. The Network includes over 700 organizational and individual members from across the world.
Mr Istanbouli is also director and founder of the Lebanese National Theater in Tyre and the Lebanese National Theater in Tripoli and has been a project manager at the Tiro Association for Arts in Lebanon since 2014.
Hajer Ben Boubaker is a French-Tunisian independent researcher and sound director. Her research focuses on a socio-historical analysis of Arab music and the cultural history of the Maghreb community in France and around the world.
In 2018, she created and self-produced the Vintage Arab podcast, which explores Arabic musical heritage. At the intersection of research and art, the podcast allows her to keep a foot in each sphere.
Ms Ben Boubaker is a producer and documentary director for France Culture, where her work questions the sound and political memory of immigration. As a researcher, she is associated with the Arab and Oriental music collection at the Bibliothèque nationale de France, and continues to write for scientific journals, including “Paris, capitale maghrébine: une histoire Populaire” in October 2023.
Created in 1998 and run by UNESCO at the initiative of the United Arab Emirates, the UNESCO-Sharjah Prize awards two laureates per year — individuals, groups or institutions — in recognition of their contribution to Arab art and culture, or for participating in the dissemination of the latter outside the Arab world.
The initiative contributes towards the Organization’s objective of fostering inclusive, resilient and peaceful societies. The Prize carries a monetary value of USD 60,000, which is equally divided between the two laureates.
Saudi jewelry designer, Maryah Abdudeeb, is revolutionizing the world of wearable art by fusing the elegance of Arabic calligraphy with the beauty of literature. Through her brand, Mashq, she has embarked on a creative journey that begins with the delicate strokes of a calligraphy brush and culminates in the creation of breathtaking masterpieces inspired by poetry and literature.
Mashq, which takes its name from an ancient form of calligraphy, meaning “stretch out,” captures the essence of Arabic letters in a unique and captivating manner. The brand’s founder, Maryah Abdudeeb, drew inspiration from her childhood experiences, where she witnessed her father’s skillful calligraphy and her mother’s ability to transform simple materials into works of art.
Guided by these formative influences, Abdudeeb embarked on a quest to explore the depths of Arabic poetry and literature. Her creative journey was further enriched as she traveled to different countries, marveling at architectural marvels adorned with historic Arabic inscriptions. It was during these encounters that she stumbled upon jewelry pieces engraved with calligraphy, each one narrating a deeply personal story.
With a profound love for Islamic art, Abdudeeb believes in showcasing and appreciating its timeless beauty. To deepen her knowledge and understanding of this art form, she immerses herself in Islamic design books, where she discovers an array of captivating designs and phrases inspired by this rich cultural heritage.
The COVID-19 lockdown proved to be a turning point for Abdudeeb, as she pondered over ways to combine her twin passions: jewelry and Arabic calligraphy. It was during this period of introspection that the concept of Mashq was born.
In March 2021, Mashq made its debut, unveiling its inaugural collection. Abdudeeb personally contributed to each stage of the jewelry-making process, acting as both the calligrapher and designer. Each piece in the collection showcases verses and lines from her favorite works of Arabic poetry and literature, capturing the essence of profound emotions and inspiring narratives.
The transformative design process begins with Abdudeeb meticulously rendering the chosen phrase in calligraphy, striving to convey its true essence. The phrase is then transformed into a three-dimensional representation using specialized jewelry design software. Depending on the size and intricacy of the piece, it is crafted either by hand or with the assistance of cutting-edge machinery.
However, the true measure of success for Abdudeeb lies in the emotions evoked by her creations. By employing a variety of meaningful phrases and materials such as silver, gold plating, and gems, she aims to establish a connection between the wearer and the words. Each piece serves as a reflection of personal sentiments or a wellspring of motivation, empowering individuals to carry their chosen phrase with grace and pride.
Beyond the Middle East, scores of towns and cities owe their names to the region’s far-reaching influence.
In 711, Arab commander Tariq ibn Ziyad led his victorious Berber army across the narrow strait between North Africa and Spain, where he took the first step towards founding what would become the Muslim state of Al Andulus.
To honour his achievement, the mountain where the army had first landed was named after him. They called it Jabal Tariq – Mount Tariq.
More than 1,000 years later, we now call it Gibraltar , the name evolving with the centuries that saw the peak regained by Spain, only to later become a British territory.
It is a reminder that Arab influence is often visible in plain sight, sometimes far from the boundaries of the Middle East.
The Mexican city of Guadalajara is known for mariachi music and two football World Cups. It has little to do with river beds or stones, yet that is the origin of its name: Wadi Al Hajarah, translated as the Valley of Stone from Arabic, or possibly the fortified valley.
Guadalajara in Mexico is also a product of conquest. In the 15th century, it was founded by a conquistador who named it in honour of his boss Nuno de Guzman, who had been born in the Spanish city Guadalajara, which once fitted the description. The city in Spain was named during the Muslim rule over the Iberian Peninsula.
The South Pacific island of Guadalcanal, more than 16,000 kilometres from Spain, was the scene of one of the bloodiest battles of the Second World War, with more than 30,000 Japanese and American soldiers killed in six months of fighting.
Guadalcanal was part of the British Solomon Islands, now independent, but had been colonised by Spain in 1568 and named after a town near Seville, one of the country’s biggest cities in the south. Seville was originally founded by Arabs as Wadi Al Qanal.
These names mark the rise and fall of empires – Arab, Spanish and British – and the conflicts that shaped our world, from the creation of the Caliphates, which once stretched from Afghanistan to Portugal, to the British Empire, on which it was said the sun never set.
London’s Trafalgar Square honours one of that empire’s great heroes, Admiral Lord Nelson, who defeated the combined might of the French and Spanish naval fleets in 1805.
The square and the column that carries Nelson’s statue take their name from the Cape of Trafalgar, where the famed battle of the same name took place offshore. It was first known as Tarif Al Ghar or Tarif Al Gharb, thought to mean either Cape of the Cave or the West, respectively, in the original Arabic.
It is estimated at least 4,000 Spanish words have their origins in Arabic. Benacazon, another city in Spain, was originally Bani Qasum, or the Sons of Qasum. El Burgo, in Malaga, is simply “the tower”, or “al burj”. In neighbouring Portugal, the popular holiday destination the Algarve was once Al Gharb, or The West.
Granada, the city at the heart of Islamic Spain, was first Garnata to the Arabs, although the meaning of the name is unclear and may be much older. Its famous palace, the Alhambra, comes from the Arabic “al hamra”, or “red one”, after the colour of its walls.
Arab reach in Europe stretched beyond Spain. The Italian island of Sicily was an emirate between 831 and 1091, with the city of Marsala, famous for its wine, probably either Marsa Ali – Ali’s harbour or anchorage – or Marsa Allah. Many smaller towns begin with the prefix “cala”, evolving from the Arabic word “qalat”, or fortification.
In France, the small town of Ramatuelle, close to Saint-Tropez, was once ruled by the Moors, who raided the Rhone Valley in the ninth and 10th centuries. At that period, it was called Rahmatallah, an Arabic phrase meaning “mercy of God”.
The Bosnian town of Gornji Vakuf-Uskoplje derives the second part of its name from the Islamic word “waqf”, meaning a charitable gift.
Thousands of kilometres away, and on another continent, the Comoro Islands in the Indian Ocean, owe their name to the Arabic “qamar”, or moon. The population converted to Islam as far back as the 7th century.
In East Africa, Mozambique was named by Portuguese colonisers after the offshore island of the same name. That Mozambique is actually derived from Mussa Bin Bique, the Arab trader who ruled the island before the Portuguese took over in 1544.
In the Middle East, though, many place names are derived from languages other than Arabic. Baghdad comes from Farsi for “God’s gift”; Byblos is Greek, as is Alexandria in Eygpt, which is named for Alexander the Great.
The city of Aleppo is called Halab, which is originally Aramaic, the language of the Hebrew Bible. Beirut is unclear but possibly a Phoenician word for a “well”.
And Amman, the capital of Jordan? This shows how complex the origin of place names can be. Three thousand years ago it was founded as Rabbath Ammon by the Ammonites, who spoke a Semitic language. Rabbath, originally used to mean “king”, but was dropped as the city eventually became Amman.
For around 50 years though, in the 3rd century, it was part of the kingdom of the Pharaoh Ptolemy II, who renamed it using a combination of the Greek words “brotherly” and “love” – “phileo” and “adelphos” – or Philadelphia.
Nearly 2,000 years later, the Quaker William Penn named a new town he was building in the American colony of Pennsylvania. Inspired by the sentiments of Ptolemy, he also called it Philadelphia in a state which, incidentally, also includes a Damascus, Hebron and Bethlehem.
