Donia Wael’s sweet voice became the soundtrack to long nights on Cairene roads and Egyptian balconies long before we knew the face behind it. Anonymized as a cartoon character next to El Waili’s green skull or an animated outline of a slim body with long curly hair in the 2022 hit single “El 3asal,” Wael began her career trusting that her music would reveal everything listeners needed to know about her.
“I wanted people to connect and judge me for my music only,” Wael shares in a video call with OkayAfrica. Her songs, often bridging melancholy with electronic production and traditional Egyptian instruments, built her a loyal fan base, even though her listeners wouldn’t recognize her if they saw her in person.
“I’m over that, honestly,” she says. “I’m trying to connect on a physical level, because I realized that when people see you, they will find themselves in you. I feel like I grew up with the audience.”
In the visuals for her latest EP, Bifkrny Beek, Wael is seen dancing in Cairo, wearing glitter make-up and cute clothes. In many ways, she is exactly how her audience would have imagined her to be: playful and down-to-earth. Mu7tarama, as Egyptians would say: a respectable woman.
How did an extremely shy child become a successful musician with the aspirations to go global?
“It’s an ongoing process,” says Wael, who speaks as if she were talking to a friend, rather than repeating rehearsed phrases. “Growing up, I didn’t really share my feelings in conversations. I’m not gonna tell you what’s bothering me, but I’ll write you a song about it.”
She got into songwriting at 17, after she saw a boy playing the ukulele on a Sinai beach. “It was magical to me,” she remembers. “I went home and had to buy anything that had strings.”
Photo by Donia Wael
“I dream of Donia Wael being something with influence, passion, and soul. I dream of being really existent.” - Donia Wael.
With teaching herself the guitar came the ability to express herself with words. Wael has no songwriting technique. She starts strumming the guitar, and something comes out - it used to be stories she wanted to tell, before she fell in love with the traditional melody structure of a song.
Her mother used to listen to her music from behind the door, because Wael was too shy to share it. As she grew older, she began attending open mics and playing her original music on a keyboard.
“I never thought that I’d get gineh masry, one Egyptian pound, from making music,” she says. “I’m the biggest example that shyness can be overcome. Oof, I used to hide! Now I’m totally fine.”
It was studying acting that finally got Wael out of her shell. “I went into it thinking that it’ll help me write better music,” she shares. “It made me understand emotions and the person in front of me more. I fell in love with it. I want to live different lives and write music from the perspective of different characters.”
With a newly discovered love for acting and an EP already out this year, what else could Wael dream of? A girlband! Growing up listening to alternative Arab bands like Cairokee and Mashrou’ Leila, she had been wishing for her own girl band ever since she was in school, but could never find other girls who played instruments.
“Egyptian girls would only sing,” she says. “I wanted to hunt for girls [who play instruments], because I thought that we shared the same passion. And I wanted to influence more women to play instruments.”
Photo by Donia Wael
Bifkrny Beek is more explorative in terms of open vulnerability, but also in Wael’s collaborations.
Her hunt took several months during which she asked every musician she knew and “went crazy stalking and searching” on the internet until she found Randa Shoukry, an electric guitarist who knew other women instrumentalists.
“I found out that I actually like collaborating and that I’m a people person,” says Wael about launching her own girlband with “Ezay.” “It feels warmer and safer, because you have people to look at and jam with.”
She hopes to tour with her band and wants people to know each band member for their skill, not for the fact that they’re women.
There’s a red line that connects Wael’s EP, love for acting, and girlband: “I want people to know that they’re not alone and that it’s okay to be vulnerable,” she says. “Once, a fan told me something very important: ‘Your music helped me not to be alone in a certain phase, but I want you to know that you’re also not alone.’”
It takes coming out of one’s shell to really feel and appreciate the connections that art facilitates between humans. That’s why, after several years in the public ear, Wael is ready to step into the public eye.
- How 'Flight Into Egypt' Connects Black Artists with Ancient Egyptian Heritage ›
- FL EX is Bringing Egyptian Drill to the World ›
- Meet the Vanguard of Contemporary Egyptian Jazz ›
- Abo Sahar Is Making His Own Blend of Egyptian Electronic Music ›
- On “The Man Who Lost His Heart,” Marwan Moussa Maps a Pathway Through Grief ›
- The Best North African Songs Right Now ›