The Enduring Legacies of Egypt’s Early 2000s Pop Divas

A group of friends gathers on a Friday night somewhere in Cairo. Perhaps they meet on the 15th floor of an apartment building in Giza that overlooks Cairo University or the Nile. Perhaps they find themselves on a quiet, plant-filled rooftop in Agouza or a large living room in Maadi. 

Somebody orders shawarma sandwiches, and the host prepares bowls of crisps and dips. Some wine, Stella beer, and cola (a local alternative, everyone boycotts Coca-Cola now). Old friends catch up and introduce newcomers to the group; there are always newcomers in a Cairo gathering. 

In between introductions and stories about the absurdity of daily life in Egypt, eyes wander to the television and heads bop along to early 2000s pop anthems. There’s Ruby singing in workout clothes on a bicycle. “Iconic,” someone in the group says. 

Next, Sherine sings “Sabry Aall,” and a guy jumps up from the sofa to belly dance. The host brings out a colorful scarf with coin embellishments and wraps it around their waist as they join their dancing friends. 

“How come you all know the lyrics?” asks one of the newcomers, who happens to be a foreigner. “These women raised us,” explains her Egyptian friend. “When they released this music, I realized there could be different ways to be Egyptian.” A few people nod in agreement. “They pushed boundaries and helped us become who we are.”

Ruby - “Leih Beydari Keda” (“Why Does He Hide Like This”)

Ruby, Ranin, and Sherine: Icons of Egyptian Pop

The “girl on the bike,” Ruby, is an Egyptian singer and actor who rose to fame in 2003 in spite of, or rather, because of her unashamed self-expression. More conservative people deemed her presentation highly inappropriate; however, the public, especially the millennials who still dance to her songs two decades later, were absolutely in love with her.

“Ruby was the first who showed us that we could fight back against society and still be adored,” says one man at the party, watching his friends dance, a smile on his face. “From ‘Leih Beydari Keda,’ I was completely mesmerized. There she was: unapologetic, playful, and daring. I didn’t want to be with her; I wanted to be her. Through Ruby, I learned that rebellion could be beautiful.”

The song is a surprisingly simple production which mixes Arabic melodies, violins, and percussion with subtle pop synths. Ruby sings a repetitive but catchy vocal line, and there are small male choir moments; most importantly, she confidently dances her way through the beloved music video, even though everyone at the party agrees that she can’t really dance (which doesn’t matter at all).

Ranin - “Habib Albi” (“Love of my Heart”)

“Habib Albi” was Ranin’s only major hit, but it was unforgettable. Her choreography became part of a generation’s collective memory, the Arab version of “The Ketchup Song.” When it comes on, a percussion-heavy blend of synth sounds and R&B elements, all dancers move in sync, turning the living room into a dance floor of joy. If you didn’t grow up listening to this song, it might be a bit harder to get into.

Sherine - “Sabry Aalil” (“My Patience is Limited”)

“I know this one!” exclaims the foreign newcomer when Sherine’s “Sabry Aalil” starts playing. Italian Egyptian singer Mahmood covered it in 2020, and it went viral on TikTok a year later, courtesy of a dance challenge. 

With “Sabry Aalil,” Sherine Abdelwahab, the iconic Egyptian singer and actor dubbed “The Voice of Egypt,” created a timeless banger that has anyone shaking their shoulders and trying to keep up with the fast, high-pitched vocal line. 

While it’s a danceable tune, Sherine’s lyrics tell the story of a girl who wants to leave a toxic relationship, asserting that she’s had enough of her lover’s mistreatment. “[Sabry Aleel] is imprinted in all of our memories,” explains the newcomer’s friend. She taught their generation that one has to choose their own well-being, even if that means leaving behind a lover.

Expanding the Pop Diva Legacy: Samira Said and Beyond

Samira Said ft. Cheb Mami - “Youm Wara Youm”

A bit older than her peers in this list, Morocco’s Samira Said became an honorary Egyptian during the 40 years she lived there, not least because she gifted the culture “Youm Wara Youm,” a song and music video everyone still knows by heart. Palestinian singer Elyanna covered it in 2021.

As the night continues, Lebanese divas like Elissa and Nawal Al Zoughbi are honored, and eventually people dare to play their guilty pleasures, “Bah” by Tunisia’s Naglaa and “7ott En No2at” by Bossy Samir. 

In a society as strict and conservative as Egypt’s, these pop divas carved out their own, self-defined spaces publicly — sometimes by addressing taboo topics through seductive and promiscuous lyrics, and sometimes simply through well-fitting clothes and fun dance moves. 

It allowed countless others to do the same privately, and to embrace identities that they had not seen reflected in their communities or mainstream media previously. 

These are difficult accomplishments even today; that’s why these women continue to mean everything to many millennials in Egypt. If you ever have the pleasure of joining one of their house parties, you will see for yourself.