Memoir: Umu Kultoom

That little boy, a neophyte to the musical world, whom ran from house to house, hand in hand with his father bellowing his lungs out, that was I. Music made the blood gush through my body. I never cared much for the money; father seemed to appreciate it more than I did, as is his right because he had a family to provide for. By day a boy, by night a girl. Did I ever feel like I lost my identity, no, I was both! That little boy will always be a part of me, that little boy taught me courage, courage that drowned amongst the heavy sexist waves of my time, which buffeted the Arab society.  If I die tomorrow, I will know in my heart that I can die in peace because I had taught the Arab world to sail across these heavy waves. I am an Arab singer, I am also a woman, and there is nothing wrong with simultaneously being both.

My nation, oh how I love my nation. I played the strings of my heart for you even after my body failed me and I could no longer see your mesmerizing beauty. I filled up my lungs with air, and when I sang I used every breath to praise you, my laudable nation.  Wars on wars, and all that was left in the peoples 'bereft of life' hearts was love: for God, for one another and for their nation. When injected into our lives, music strengthened love in people’s hearts. Music brought hope into people’s eyes. I lived for that; I detested the day I saw my nation crumble in the hands of war. These acrimonious scenes were ineffable, they filled me with angst, but I sanguinely believed that my nation was indefatigable and so I sang, I sang with alacrity until Egypt and the Egyptians were unified by love.

As a restive little girl, I loved to do what I was told I could not. I was told I could not become a Quran reciter due to my natural feminine being, determined to prove them wrong I learned and after assiduous effort I became the best in the whole town! My love for the Quran sprouted in my heart before my love for music did. I memorized all seventy-seven thousand, seven hundred and one words of God by a tender age. I was also told that I could not become a successful singer. However, I feasted my eyes and ears on the beautiful arts: poetry and music. With the magnanimous help of great poets and composers such as Mohamed Shawqi, Bayram Altunisis and Mohamed Abd-alwahab, all whom truly believed in me, I became a star in the Arab skies and I was honored with the title “The Voice of Egypt” I was seen as a paragon of the musical arts.

Now as I lie on my deathbed in my time of nadir, I am that little boy again, longing to sing, longing to see the pulchritude of the Arabian land, longing to hear the voices of the love filled admirers. Between these lifeless four walls, all I hear is silence, but when the ebullient final stage lights hit me I will die with love in my heart for God, for my nation and for music.