Latest news with #CairoScene


CairoScene
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
MENA's Only Art Festival for Women, She Arts, Returns This October
'She Arts Festival directly challenges systemic imbalance in the cultural sector,' says founder Neveen Kenawy. May 30, 2025 In a region where women artists are too often pushed to the periphery, She Arts Festival is refusing to play by inherited rules. Returning from October 2nd to 5th, the festival is expanding its footprint across the New Administrative Capital, AUC Tahrir in Cairo, and Alexandria, bringing its message across Egypt. She Arts is still the only art festival of its kind in the MENA region, one dedicated entirely to spotlighting women in the arts. From contemporary dance and music to visual arts and panel discussions, the festival unapologetically centres women's voices, stories and creative legacies. 'By consistently creating space for women, the festival directly challenges systemic imbalance in the cultural sector,' Neveen Kenawy, Founder & Director of She Arts Festival, tells CairoScene. This year's edition will see a packed multidisciplinary programme featuring rising names and established figures from across the region. But sustaining a women-led initiative in an industry still dominated by mainstream, and often male, priorities remains a fight. 'Our biggest challenge has been securing consistent funding for a women-focused initiative in a space that often prioritises mainstream narratives,' Kenawy says. Now in its fourth year, She Arts has become a signal to the region that women aren't waiting for permission. They're making their own stages and filling them.


CairoScene
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
Win Tickets to Heineken's UCL Final Party in Uptown Cairo on May 31st
Tell us about your pre-match rituals for a chance to win access to the Champions League final watch party May 29, 2025 We all have one. That oddly specific, slightly questionable ritual we swear brings our team good luck. Maybe it's wearing the same socks since '09, refusing to sit down until halftime, or reciting the Champions League anthem like it's your national anthem. Whatever it is, now it might just win you and your football buddy a night out you won't forget. To celebrate the Champions League Final, Heineken is throwing an epic screening party at Uptown Cairo on May 31st which is set to be so much more than just 90 minutes of football. Think a full day out: football-themed carnival games, a locker room with awesome prizes, a goalkeeping reflex challenge, food by Grill Setup, temporary tattoos, and even a pop-up barbershop for that fresh fade before kickoff. Oh, and of course, the match on the big screen, cold Heinekens in hand. Want in? CairoScene is giving away free tickets to a few lucky fans. How to enter. On the below post 1. Comment your pre-match ritual. Tag the friend you always watch the matches with. That's it. Five winners with two tickets each will be selected at random and announced by Friday, May 30th at 6PM.


CairoScene
7 days ago
- Health
- CairoScene
Daleela Launches Region's First Free Women's Health Summit in Cairo
Daleela Launches Region's First Free Women's Health Summit in Cairo From PCOS to motherhood, Daleela's summit brings Arab women's health into focus; free, accessible, and built for her. 'This pain is normal.' 'I didn't know this was even a thing.' Sentences like these echoed in the mind of Nour Eman, founder of women's health platform Daleela, for years. She heard them from women all across the MENA region, from every walk of life. Now, through Daleela, Eman is rewriting the script. After years of building an AI-driven health assistant and a platform rooted in real, accessible care, Daleela has launched its first live Women's Health Summit in Cairo: a free, unapologetic space for education, healing, and community. 'We wanted to take everything we've built digitally - the AI assistant, the diagnostics, the content - and bring it to life in a way that feels real, human, and communal,' Nour Emam tells CairoScene. The summit's scope is expansive. It spans medical deep-dives on conditions like PCOS and endometriosis, panels on birth trauma and body image, and taboo-shattering sessions on FGM, period shame, and sexual confidence. But it's also deeply emotional, integrating workshops, breathwork, and movement designed to address trauma that lives in the body, not just in charts. 'Women's health isn't just physical,' Eman says. 'We carry silence and shame in our nervous systems. The workshops are just as important as the science.' One of the summit's most anticipated panels is Motherhood Unfiltered, hosted and moderated by the founder herself. 'Because I've lived it, the beautiful parts and the messy parts,' she explains. 'I didn't want it sugar-coated. I wanted women to hear the truth and feel seen.' What makes the summit unprecedented is how open it is. There are no pricey tickets, no exclusivity. All attendees need is the Daleela app. 'We built this platform to make healthcare more accessible, not more gated,' she says. 'Making the summit free was never a marketing decision, it was a valuable one.' The event also centres regional voices, with Arab practitioners and specialists leading the charge. 'Too much women's health advice online is filtered through a Western lens. We wanted women to feel represented, not lectured.' More than just a one-off gathering, this summit is part of Daleela's bigger vision: 'The summit plants the seed, but the daily app experience, the content, the partnerships, that's where the long-term shift happens. This is about changing how women in our region access care, feel seen, and stay informed.' And for women attending for the first time? 'I hope they walk away feeling more connected to their bodies, and less ashamed of them. If even one woman walks out feeling a little lighter, it's all worth it.'


CairoScene
25-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- CairoScene
Meet Cairo's 75-Year-Old Ultra Runner Who Keeps the City Moving
During my first week in Cairo almost a year ago now, I made what seemed like a very bold decision to lace up my shoes and embark on a run around Zamalek. The dogs, the traffic, the staggering heat and the sheer chaos of the city that I have grown to appreciate was overwhelming at the time. I saw no other runners. Just as I was about to turn back, dizzy and defeated, an older woman appeared and, quite literally, picked me up. 'Are you new here?' she asked, flashing a smile that told me everything was going to be okay. The woman proceeded to show me her favourite route around the island, teaching me the ways of the city, telling me about her incredible life story in the process. Her name is Zohra Merabet, a 75-year-old ultra-marathon runner, a Cairo legend, and someone I'm now proud to call a dear friend. Gradually integrating into Cairo's running community, I quickly came to learn that the situation I described above is a widely shared experience. I've lost count of the number of people who recall a time when Zohra has picked them up, who cite her as their inspiration to enter a race, push out of their comfort zone and just keep going, and in a running and non-running context. I've lost count of how many people name her as the very reason they run - and just as many who insist someone has to write about her, make some sort of film about her life. When I told her I was thinking of writing this piece, she rolled her eyes, grinned, and said, 'Well, I'm really not that interesting, you know.' At 75, she has run more than a hundred marathons and ultramarathons and shows no sign of slowing down. Every single day, for around 30 years, she has laced up her shoes and run. When people marvel at her stamina, especially in light of her age, she shrugs and offers the simple resolution: 'Running is a source of energy.' This energy has carried her through a life of constant motion. Born in Marseille to Algerian parents, Zohra studied engineering and began her career in development. 'Since 1983, I've basically pitched my tent in Cairo, but I'm always on the move,' she tells CairoScene. Over the years, she's lived and worked in Sana'a, Jerusalem, Beirut, Amman and Paris. 'Whenever I look out the plane window as I'm landing somewhere, I'm scanning the ground for where I'll run the next morning. That's always my first thought: how I'll use my run to explore,' she chuckles. For Zohra, running isn't fitness - it's orientation. It's how she grounds herself after euphoric highs, and how she grieves through unbearable loss. It's her way of meeting the world, again and again. Between 1976 and 1983, Zohra lived in Sanaa, Yemen, working on infrastructure development. 'That's when I really started taking running seriously. I was helping build the roads I ran on so it became entwined with my work - a way to understand the place,' she says. The mountains surrounding Sana'a turned her into a trail runner: 'I was never a morning person, but I started waking up early to run. I'd come into meetings feeling like I'd already lived a whole other experience before the day began. I became hooked.' After Yemen, she landed in Cairo. Her relationship with the city, like her life, is constantly shifting, shaped through her running. 'Every single run teaches me something new about this city. I discover corners I've never seen before.' Cairo, in the early morning hours, offers her a different kind of intimacy. 'You peel back the layers, you see the city for what she really is, before the world wakes up. People from all walks of life smile at you. I look at the buildings - how their shapes change, how time leaves its mark. There's something magical about Cairo when she's quiet,' she says. Despite the tangled cacophony of barking dogs, blaring horns, and shouted vecchias echoing through this city of over 10 million people, Zohra somehow finds solace in it all. 'Running early in the morning, for me, is how I survive this city. Even though, as you know, Cairo is crazy, I'm just always curious about it. I find a strange peace here.' Despite the rapid pace of the city and its constant physical change, Zohra's morning run remains a constant in her life: 'It's very simple: I usually wake up at 5:45. I feed my cat and give her a little bit of love and then I get dressed, sometimes I do a bit of work. But then I go out. As for the route I take, I often repeat the same roads and streets, but I always always find something new. The city is never the same twice.' One of the most common assumptions Zohra hears is that her commitment to running is primarily related to fitness or appearance. She bristles at this. 'Running, for me, has nothing to do with physical appearance. It's about strength, peace and power,' she says. 'I never, ever talk about how it changes how you look when I'm encouraging someone to run.' Her encouragement tends to be a two-way exchange. 'Others encourage me and inspire me as much as I inspire them. The first step is always to tell them they can do it. If I can do it they can.' She thrives off seeing others reach new milestones. 'I love to see others achieve. I went to Amsterdam recently to support a friend running her first marathon. I was with her all the way to the finish.' Zohra doesn't just run with people. She runs for them. To them. Because of them. Ask anyone in the community, and they'll tell you. Raïd Gamal-Eldin - founder of Egypt's first trail running community, Wadi Ibex - recounts the time when, during a multi-stage ultramarathon in Wadi Rum in 2019, Zohra carried him to the finish. 'She saw that I was flagging at the end of the second day,' Gamal-Eldin shares. 'Her words, her encouragement gave me the fuel to keep going, she has this amazing quality that makes you trust everything will be okay. She radiates resilience.' Local runner Aziza Ibrahim had never set foot on a trail before meeting Zohra. Intimidated by the idea, she believed trail running was the domain of seasoned endurance athletes. 'I spoke to Zohra, and she told me it was all in my head,' Aziza recalls. 'She said I could do it and that she'd run with me in the wadi. So we did, and that was it.' Today, Aziza is a confident trail runner who thrives off-road, racing across landscapes she once found daunting. 'It's all because of Zohra. There's a certain energy about her, she's a true inspiration, especially for women.'. Ashley Gramolini, an expat teacher, shared a similar experience during her time in Cairo: 'Zohra was the one who encouraged me to run my first ultramarathon. I never would have even considered it without her. She has this way of making you believe you can do it, on the trail and in life.' Omar El Sawy, professional trail runner and founder of Egyptian trail running company UltraBedu, had long heard whispers of Zohra's legend in Cairo's running circles, but it wasn't until a 66km desert race in Fayoum that he truly understood her impact. 'There comes a point in every ultramarathon when everyone starts to fade,' he says. 'But there she was, steady pace, smile on her face.' Drawn to her calm presence, Omar ran alongside Zohra for a long stretch, simply listening to her life story. 'I was amazed. On the trail and beyond it, she's become a real source of inspiration for me.' For Zohra, running is a discipline of freedom, of presence and resilience. Through it, she's taught countless others not just how to run, but how to move through the world boldly, with curiosity, and on their own terms. Countless people have drawn strength from Zohra's resilience, her calm presence, her way of seeing the world. When asked about her proudest achievement, she doesn't cite medals or personal bests. Instead, she offers something simpler: 'Every time I leave my house and start running, I'm proud.' For Zohra, pride isn't reserved for the extraordinary, it's found in the quiet, repeated act of showing up. Just as running is her daily source of energy, she's become that same force for so many others. 'I just tell people they can do it. If I can, they can. You don't need all the high-tech gear. You don't need anything, really. Just your will. There's a runner inside of everyone,' she says. It's not just her own milestones she celebrates - it's everyone else's. She lights up when she talks about others crossing finish lines, stepping outside their comfort zones, finding strength they didn't know they had. At the end of a race, which for Zohra, is often upwards of 50km and takes hours of constant physical effort, the finish line - when biologically, physically, her energy is depleted, that's when she feels the most alive. 'The energy comes for me when I can say I've done it. At the finish line, I feel like I can dance and I do,' Zohra says. That's not a misquote - after a 10 hour race, Zohra doesn't collapse. She dances, celebrates, rejoices. She keeps moving. 'I'm always ready to dance,' she chuckles. From Zohra, we learn that persistence doesn't always come in grand gestures. Sometimes, it's simply the act of putting one foot in front of the other, day after day. The finish line, for her, isn't an ending but a quiet commitment to keep going, even when no one's watching. In this loud, unruly, flamboyant city, that quiet determination stands out all the more.


CairoScene
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
‘The Plague' Is a Coming-of-Age Body Horror That Hits Hard
'The Plague' Is a Coming-of-Age Body Horror That Hits Hard We're inside the pool, looking up. Everything is still. A body plunges in. It shatters the calm. Bubbles explode like fireworks. Another splash follows, then another. Heads dip under and rise again. Legs kick furiously, desperate and uncoordinated. The kids kick their feet to stay above the water. Their movements aren't graceful. It's pure survival. Each kick is a plea to stay above, to breathe. We quickly realise they're kids in a water polo practice who have been tossed into the deep end of the pool. Twelve is the age when life stops being still. It's when the calm ends and the struggle begins. It's hard to believe 'The Plague' is Charlie Polinger's first feature film. His direction is remarkably confident, distinct, and entirely his own. The film premiered in Un Certain Regard to rapturous applause, and I'm sure it will go down as one of the most promising debuts of the year. A chilling descent into the horrors of bullying, 'The Plague' captures the suffocating dread of being young, isolated, and targeted by other peers. It's one of the most effective horror films on the subject ever made. And yes, that includes Brian DePalma's Carrie. This is no light compliment. 'I wanted to explore the violence and vulnerability of boyhood in a way I hadn't seen on screen. Many coming-of-age films, particularly about boys, tend to be comedic or nostalgic, but for me, being 12 felt more like a living hell of social anxiety,' Polinger tells CairoScene. In the film, this anxiety stems mostly from the fear of getting acne. Only the kids in this water polo team refer to it as 'the plague'. It's something we've all felt at that age. That feeling when you wake up and go straight to the mirror. You're afraid of what you'll see. Your fingers already reaching for skin that might betray you. And then you spot it. A red bump forming on your forehead, cheek, or chin. You feel that slow panic build up. The way your confidence vanishes in seconds. The walk to class feels longer. Every glance feels like judgment. You keep your head down, avoid eye contact, and pray no one notices. It's not just about skin. It's about shame, exposure, and the unbearable feeling that everyone's looking. Even when they're not. Polinger shoots this very specific stage of puberty like a body horror film, and it works brilliantly. It's one of those ideas that feels so obvious in retrospect, you wonder why no one's done it before. Even if this ground has been explored, it's never been shot quite like this. The cinematography is incredibly stylised, and the score is deeply unsettling. Together, they turn adolescence into something monstrous. The film focuses on Ben, a quiet and observant newcomer who becomes the target of increasing cruelty and humiliation from his peers. At the centre of their fixation is 'the plague,' a slang term they use to describe acne. It's treated like a contagious curse. What begins as teasing escalates into ritualistic torment. The kids unite against whoever shows signs of the infection. The story explores how fear, shame, and group dynamics contribute to the brutal enforcement of conformity. With haunting visuals and a disturbing sound design, 'The Plague' captures the suffocating anxiety of being young, vulnerable, and different. The coach, played by Joel Edgerton, is a steady presence on the sidelines. He's there to keep things in order. When he suspects bullying, he confronts Ben and tells him that this, like everything in life, will eventually pass. But kids don't have the patience to wait. When they're being bullied, time doesn't move forward. It slows down. Every second stretches. What adults call 'a phase' feels, in the moment, like forever. The cast of child actors is incredible, especially Everett Blunck in the lead role and Kayo Martin as Jake, the ringleader of the bullies. Jake has a way of spotting the tiniest flaw. You see a smirk creep across his face. He's like a lion who's just spotted a wounded prey. The moment he realises Ben has a lisp, he locks onto it. Calls it out, mocks him, and turns it into a nickname that sticks like a scar. The film also explores how you can find yourself on both sides of the line, bullied or bully. And when you do it just to fit in, being the bully can feel frustrating and painful. There's a particular kind of ache that comes from betraying your own sense of right and wrong just to avoid becoming a target yourself. It's the slow burn of shame. The quiet guilt that lingers long after the laughter fades. It's not the pain of being hurt. It's the pain of hurting someone else. The film doesn't let you look away from that. It shows you the ugly side of both ends and makes you sit with it. Just when you think you know where the film is headed, it surprises you. The ending, in particular, stayed with me. It's cathartic in a way that sneaks up on you. It felt raw, emotional, and beautifully earned. A big part of that impact comes from its killer soundtrack, which features a perfectly placed Moby track that elevates the final moments into something unforgettable.