Throughout the ’40s and ’50s two dancers dominated Egypt’s Baladi dancing scene: Samia Gamal and Tahia Carioca. Much has been written and said as to who was the best; more often than not, reviewers have given the nod to Carioca; however, this remains an empty dilemma; they were both superb; they also had very different styles.

I never found myself in a quandary; although I liked Tahia, Samia was my preferred dancer-actress. At a time when my body was making strange new demands, I had a crush on her. Once, when I went to see one of her movies, I took a program with her picture on it. I left it in my drawer; it was not hidden, for not much could be hidden in our Ghamra’s apartment!

She was born as Zeinab Ibrahim Mahfuz in 1924 in Wana, in Upper Egypt. Soon after her birth, her family moved to Cairo and resided near the famous Khan El Khalili bazaar. Many years went by before Samia Gamal got her first break; it happened when she met Badia Masabni. Badia asked Samia to join her dance company and Samia willingly accepted. It was Masabni who gave her the stage name of Samia Gamal; a fitting name since Gamal means beauty and she was indeed very beautiful.

Her first teachers were Badia Masabni and Tahia Carioca. Before long, however, Gamal developed her own style. She incorporated techniques from classical ballet and Latin American dancing into her solo dances. She was also the first to wear high heels on the stage. Finally, following instructions from her classical dance teacher, Ivanova, Samia started veil dancing.

In 1949, King Farouk bestowed on Samia Gamal the title of “The National Dancer of Egypt.” This in turn made her known beyond Egypt’s borders.

In 1950, Samia came to the U.S. and was photographed by G. John Mili. She also danced in a trendy New York’s nightclub. She later married a “Texas Millionaire,” who as it turned out was no millionaire at all! The marriage didn’t last long, and Gamal returned to Egypt. In 1958, she married Rushdy Abaza, one of the most famous Egyptian actor.

In addition to being a first-rate dancer, Samia Gamal was a good actress. She acted in some 40 movies including foreign ones. For instance, in 1954, she was featured in the French movie, Ali Baba Et Les Quarante Voleurs (Ali Baba And The Forty Thieves). The film was directed by Jacques Becker and included the famous French comic, Fernandel. Again, in 1954, she danced her way into the American public’s heart with her feature, “Valley of The Kings.” This movie starred Robert Taylor.

Gamal retired in 1972, came out of retirement, and continued dancing until the early 1980s.

Samia Gamal died in 1994. She left behind her a vacuum that can never be filled.

Badia Masabni was a very important figure in the world of Egyptian art. I lost count of the number of times I heard my elders say: “If it wasn’t for Badia Masabni, we wouldn’t have this or that.” Masabni gave their first break to such luminaries as Isma’il Yassin, Aziz Osman, Samia Gamal, Tahia Carioca, Najma Ibrahim, Mohammed Fawzi, Farid El Atrash, Nelly Mazloum, Zinat Sidqui, and many others.

Badia produced a lot of successful plays with Naguib El Rihani. They eventually married, but it was a stormy marriage. Details of their relationship were discussed at great length, but out of the earshot of a small child of my age, or perhaps in my presence, but in one of the foreign tongues available to my relatives. Only years later, while I was in Israel, did I hear or read of the misadventures of Badia and Naguib, and many of the other performers who filled my childhood with tarab (good time).

She was born between 1892 and 1894, in Lebanon, at a time when it was still a part of Syria. Her real name is Theresa Mongi and her family is a mix of both Christian and Jewish ancestry. She lived in both Lebanon and Argentina before she came to Egypt early in the 20th century. She worked as an actress-dancer and quickly became successful. Blessed with an entrepreneurial spirit, Badia opened in 1926, in Cairo, a cabaret; she named it the “Opera Casino.” It also became known as “Badia’s Casino,” “Madame Badia’s Cabaret,” and other names.

Her nightclub featured dancing, singing, and comic and magic acts. Badia’s music-hall followed the pattern of European cabarets, this helped in attracting both Middle-Eastern and European audiences. Even more important, it gradually took Egyptian performing arts into a delightful new direction, a place where Oriental and European arts became blissfully wedded.

She expanded the horizons of Oriental dancing. Where before the belly dancer had a limited repertoire of arm movements, she presided over the evolution of a new type of dancing. She did that in two ways: First, getting the dancer to use the entire stage, instead of performing entirely on one spot. Second, she pioneered the use of choreography, previously, dancers mostly improvised.

Before I move on, a few details on Oriental dancing are in order.

El Raqs El Sharkia or Oriental dancing is a mix of grace and sexuality; subtle movements that are in perfect unison with the enchanting melody of the music provided by the oud (lute), tabla (Egyptian drum), and the tambourine.

Raqs Baladi (or just Baladi) is the popular name for it; it is also called Wahda Wous Nos (One And Half). Why one and half? I suspect it has to do with choreographic count.

Baladi dancing has existed in Egypt since Antiquity. It is difficult to conceive of any festive occasion without the Wahda Wous Nos. Without any formal lesson, young girls will learn it at a young age by emulating family and friends, or simply imitating professional performing on television. The moment there is any kind of eid (fete or celebration), they will tie a scarf around their waist and they’ll get going. There is probably a genetic dimension involved as well.

The story goes that after the revolution, Abdel Nasser stopped Badia’s income and was preparing to arrest her. But she managed to leave Egypt for Lebanon and took most of her money with her. As for the casino, she sold it for a tiny fraction of its market value.

The year of her passing was probably 1970.

He was born as Ylya Mohadab Sasson in Cairo, in 1916, to Jewish parents. He lived in Haret El Yahud (Jewish Ghetto in Cairo). He was sent to a prestigious French school, Le Lycee Francais.

Moadab had a short life. He died in 1952 at the age of 36. Nevertheless, he managed to accomplish a lot during this period.

Elias began his artistic career as a singer (monologist) in a famous nightclub, Alooberg. There he met Bishara Wakim and Isma’il Yassin; they were duly impressed by his talent, and they helped him establish himself in the Egyptian film industry.

In addition to movies, he worked in prestigious nightclubs such as El Arizona and Helmia Palace.

He also entertained in weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, and other affairs. Engaging him, however, was an expensive proposition.

He acted in a support role in some 17 movies.

Moadab is the other performer that I have had the chance to meet in person on two different occasions.

We were invited to the Bar Mitzvah of a wealthy friend of my father. Elias has been engaged to entertain the guests. He had with him an orchestra and a choir. I quickly realized the difference a true professional can make on a festive soiree like that. He sang, he joked, got his orchestra to perform favorite pieces, and finally, his orchestra played dance music when the time came to dim the lights and allow couples to dance the night away.

He also partook of the buffet, mingled with the crowd, and made everybody feel comfortable in his presence. He was conveying the message that he was an average Jew from Haret El Yahud, nothing more. The same applied to the rest of his group. At the time, people were not obsessed with celebrities the way they are today. Therefore, as far as I remember, no autographs were solicited; no napkins were saved with his signature to show the children and grandchildren that many years back you met with a celebrity.

During Rosh Hashanah (New Year), we (dad, Robert, and myself) went to Temple Hanan for the ritual prayers of that time of year. We were well into the morning when Elias Moadab walked in, put on his Talit (Prayer Shawl), took his assigned seat, and joined the rest of the congregation in their prayers.

Now Egyptians may not ask for your autograph, but if you’re a celebrity, they will ask you pointed questions. And this is what happened at the first break; and Elias was happy to oblige.

Apparently, there had been rumors that he had abandoned his faith. He was here to stress that he was as Jewish as anyone around him. His professional life would never take precedence over his religion.

Why Temple Hanan? He started looking for a vacant seat at the last minute; one was available at Hanan, so he took it.

As far as I remember, the year was 1951. Less than a year later, Elias Moadab was dead after only a five-year career. Before his passing, he affirmed his Jewishness and – if such was required – reconciled with his Maker.

He died on May 28, 1952. In July of that same year, the 1952 Free Officers’ Revolution took place. He had escaped the galut (exile) to which the rest of the Egyptian Jews would be subjected to.

El-Kassar was a famous comedian who, with his own theater group, performed on many stages. He also acted in some 16 movies; some of the famous ones are: Osman Wa Ali; Bawab El A’mara (The Superintendent Of The Building); and Amir El Intikam (The Prince Of Revenge, an adaptation of The Count Of Monte Cristo).

He was born in Cairo in 1898 (or maybe earlier). As a child, he revealed an amazing talent for acting and he joined several acting groups. His earlier performances were at Moulid (Fair) El Sayeda Zeinab. His break came when he took the role of the doorman Osman Abdel Bassit. (The superintendent of a building or Bawab El A’mara acted as a doorman, and was responsible for keeping the building safe and clean; he generally was not responsible for maintenance, i.e. plumbing, electricity, etc.).

This role was perfect for him; he took it on the stage and where possible in films. But he was not a one-trick pony; he was a gifted and versatile comedian who contributed to Egyptian comedy in a big way.

El Kassar was one of two performers that I had the chance to meet in person.

Next to uncle Maurice and nonna Bida in Alexandria lived a widow, Set (ma’am) Antar. Every summer, Antar rented 2 rooms for the sayefims (tourists who came to spend all or part of the summer in Alexandria). One day, a semsar (broker) came to Antar with an interesting proposition. His client wanted to rent a complete apartment for the summer, and was willing to pay a substantial rent. Antar’s apartment met the criteria of his client; would she be interested to rent it? If so, could she move out to another place for the summer? Although Antar had no idea where she would go, she was more than willing to cooperate. And the client as it turned out was none other than the famous Ali El Kassar and his theater group.

And so it was that one summer I found out that my grandmother had a famous neighbor. I thought that I would see him often, but he was a very busy man and, except for one occasion, I only caught glimpses of him.

He was coming out of his apartment when he saw me; he usually smiled and briefly nodded; but on that day he had a broad smile, and called me ya shater (good lad), he then added, “gedetak bent halal” (your grandmother is a good woman).

Apparently, nonna Bida has been acting as the peacemaker when there was a scene between the performers; and there were many such commotions. All of which brings me to my next point.

All of us during that summer learned an important lesson. You have a performer on the stage who is dancing, singing, or acting. You enjoy the show, but don’t give a second thought to the work, and, yes, the tears behind the performance.

What happened during that summer was that I saw behind the facade of all performers. Never again did I see Mickey Rooney, the Marx Brothers, or Errol Flynn as people having a lot of fun. The world of an actor is not glamorous. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s Hollywood, Rome, or Paris; behind every movie there are many people who labor tirelessly, and often pay a high price so that we can get a brief respite from our daily life.

What happened during that summer was that nonna Bida found herself drawn into some serious arguments and did her best to calm the rough waters. It was not uncommon for one of the ladies in the group to knock on the door and walk in crying.

There was one show a day and endless rehearsals. There was constant disagreement as to how a scene should be performed. Bickering and back-biting were common currency. And that went on for 7 days a week for two solid months. The pay was not that great, however, they could earn “extras.” But despite performing in a cabaret, these were decent women who weren’t willing to sully their reputation.

Nonna Bida mostly managed to reconcile the combatants. To thank her, Ali gave her 2 free tickets; she could enjoy the show, and order without charge all the food and champagne she wanted. She went with aunt Rachel. They had a sumptuous meal, enjoyed a fabulous show, and were treated like royalty. But let me assure you that neither of them touched a drop of champagne, or for that matter any other liquor.

Ali El Kassar died in 1957.

Naguib was a complex person; a controversial figure; a long- suffering soul framed by a difficult life; a comedian who made millions laugh; and a legend in his own time, and indeed decades after his passing. It is safe to surmise that his plays will be for the Arab world what Moliere’s plays are today for the worldwide Francophone community.

He was born in 1889 in Cairo, in the Bab El Shari’a district. His name was Naguib Ilyas Rihani. He was educated in Le College Des Freres. (Les Freres schools were run by Catholics monks, or as they were called brothers. We are all acquainted with schools run by nuns or sisters; schools run by brothers are the same: strict discipline and a demanding curriculum). Sadly, El Rihani had to quit school and seek employment at 15 when his father passed away. Les Freres was one of the French schools we had in Cairo. Naguib took to French literature like a fish to water. He was deeply influenced by such towering literary playwrights such as Moliere, Diderot, Corneille, and Voltaire. It would later influence his own plays, and ultimately had a profound impact on the Egyptian theater community.

He translated (or adapted) French plays. El Rihani first love was tragedies; it never came to pass, instead he would become famous as an unrivaled comedian.

Comic plays before him were insipid productions relying the use of meaningless words and slapsticks; he replaced it with comedies having social implications. His plays were built around situations intended to make people aware of the social issues surrounding them; you laughed, but was also forced to think. In this, I suspect, he espoused Moliere’s approach.

Later on, teaming with music composers, he introduced many operettas.

Naguib El Rihani became known as the “Charlie Chaplin Of The East.” According to several critics, El Rihani and Chaplin had several things in common among which is their difficult beginnings and the main themes they chose to express themselves. Both drew a parallel between the poor class conditions as against the aristocratic ones; as well, they made fun of the aristocracy in a sarcastic way.

Nothing came easy to El Rihani. After leaving school, he held insignificant clerical positions with the Agriculture Bank in Cairo and later on with the Sugar Company at Nagaa Hamady. However, since he was so preoccupied with acting, he lost both jobs.

His road to the summit was long and rocky. Part of his difficulties lay with the fact that he always wanted to reach for more. His career had its ups and downs both on the stage and for the stage (i.e. writing plays), and in the world of cinema. Despite these difficulties, he left us many unforgettable plays and classic movies.

He was deeply preoccupied with the differences between classes, and suffered because he could not redress all the inequities existing in Egyptian society. His plays and films consistently reflect that concern.

To relate in detail his professional career (which is divided into phases because of its complexity) would be too long and of little interest to Western readers. But, it would be unthinkable to talk of Naguib El Rihani and leave Keshkesh Bey out.

Keshkesh (which eventually became the nickname of Naguib El Rihani) Bey was his most successful character. Keshkesh was the umdah (mayor) of a small village named Kafr El-Ballas. Keshkesh, a cotton merchant, was “born” in 1916. Naguib developed a play around him and managed to persuade the owner of the Egyptiana Theater to stage it. It was an overnight sensation, so much so that El Rihani wrote and produced 23 plays revolving around the adventures and misadventures of Keshkesh Bey! Keshkesh became popular with children who were unable to accept the fact that he really didn’t exist.

I could not find even an estimate of the number of plays and movies he was involved into.

I was still too young to go to plays during my years in Egypt. Therefore I never saw Naguib on the stage. I did, however, listened with nonna Bida to the broadcast of one of his play. I also saw two of them on the screen: Ta’aleeli Ya Bata (Come To Me My Duckie), and Hassan, Morcos, Wou Cohen (The Adventures of A Muslim, A Christian, And A Jew).

My all-time favorite movie remains Ghazl El Banat. It was to be his last movie, he died before the feature was completed. Ghazl El Banat means Flirting With The Girls; there is also a play on words for it is the name of cotton candy!

Naguib married Badia Masabny, a famous actress-dancer, who eventually would become the owner of a legendary cabaret, Casino Badia. (More on her later). The marriage was long and tempestuous. Some of the reasons: Naguib, more often than not, had major financial problems. As well, she was jealous, and rightly so. El Rihani (as we say in this part of the world) had an eye for the ladies.

As a young man, he lusted after the wife of a butcher; his passion was apparently shared for they arranged to meet on the sly. But the butcher nipped this love affair in the bud and reminded all concerned that he had in his shop many sharp instruments!

He was involved in many love affairs with French actresses, but he refused to leave Egypt for France to join their theater companies.

He died in 1949 from typhoid. It was said that for the first time he made the Egyptian sha’ab (people) cry; he who made them laugh for so many decades.

Egyptians are very emotional. They openly express their grief at the funeral of a well-known personality. And their sorrow knew no limits at the funeral of Naguib El Rihani. Perhaps only two other icons merited such an eloquent goodbye: Gamal Abdel Nasser, and Om Kalsoum.

Isma’il Yassin was an indispensable complement in many movies. When a support actor was needed to provide comic relief, the services of Yassin were called upon. But make no mistake about it, he acted in funny but intelligent roles. Not for him were the roles of the moron or the foil. Neither do I remember him engaging in slapstick except very occasionally.

He went beyond supporting roles. He had the lead role in many features; indeed, he is famous for a series of 15 films where his name was used in the title to capitalize on his fame. Some of these films were: Isma’il Yassin In The Army; I.Y. In The Police; In The Navy; In The Air Force; In The Secret Police; In Prison; In The Mental Hospital; and so on.

It is difficult to guess as to the number of movies he participated in; my research material did not provide me with a reliable figure. Some of my favorites: Bolbol Effendi (Mr. Nightingale); El Settat Afarit (Women Are Devils); Agazah Fe Gohanam (Holiday In Hell); and Fatma, Marika, Wou Rachel (Three Women’s Names: A Muslim, A Christian, And A Jew).

He was born in 1915 in Suez. His childhood was difficult. His mother died at an early age, and his father was in jail. Thus he found himself forced to leave school and seek work before he had even completed primary school.

He started as a monologue singer and eventually headed to Cairo to join Badi’a Masabny Music Hall.

He was not particularly handsome, he had a large mouth to which he often referred to in a comic way in his movies.

In the ’60s, his health was declining. He moved to Lebanon where he participated in a number of movies, when he came back to Egypt, he was heavily in debt.

He died of a heart attack in 1972.

Sabah (which means morning in Arabic) was born in 1927 as Jeannette Gergi Fighali in Beirut, Lebanon. In confronting the Egyptian entertainment industry, I find myself quickly running out of superlatives. Therefore, I’ll just say that she was a great actress and a very prolific singer. She acted in 98 films, as well as 20 stage plays. She has released over 50 albums, and has 3,500 songs in her repertoire!

Her career started in the ’40s and she is still going strong at 81!

Her fans refer to her as Sabouha, or Shahroura, The Singing Bird. Her voice is lively and expressive, and she has been known to sustain a single note for over a minute when performing in the Lebanese’s Ataba style.

Sabah has been married a total of seven times! Her marriage to Naguib Shammas lasted five years; and she gave him a son, Sabah (the name can be used for either a girl or a boy). Next, she married a violinist, Anwar Mansy; this marriage ended after four years and resulted in the birth of a daughter, Hewayeda. Ahmed Farrag, an Egyptian television presenter, was her third husband. Abaza, an actor, was married to her for three days only; the marriage was declared invalid since he was already married and had not officially divorced his wife! The remaining three were: Joe Hammoud, Wassim Tabara, and Fadi Lubnan.

She would later say that all her husbands have taken advantage of her career. The love of her life turned out to be Joe Hammoud.

Fatima Ahmad Kamal was born in Cairo in 1929. She is better known by her stage name, Shadia. It was given to her by Helmy Rafia, a movie director. While she is now retired for many years, she acted in many movies, both comedies and dramas.

Shadia is considered one of the most popular and talented amongst singers and actresses in the firmament of Arabic movies and the Arabic recording industry. Her songs and movies are still beloved by the present generation of Egyptians.

She married and divorced 3 times: Emad Hamdy, 1953 – 1956; Aziz Fathi, 1958; Salah Zulficar, 1967 – 1969.

She acted in 117 films, and produced more than 600 songs. She also had one stage experience, Raya Wa Sakina. (Raya Wa Sakina was to Egypt what Jack the Ripper was to England).

In the course of her professional life, she received several awards and trophies. Her movie, Mrs. X. Al Mara Al Maghoola (The Unknown Woman) was played in the U.S.S.R. theaters to great acclaim.

Her singing covered a large spectrum: From everyday life, to religious, to nationalistic, and on to love songs. She also sang the long-drawn songs Egyptians are so fond off. Finally, she has to her credit many children songs; and in those songs, she expressed her love of children and perhaps the pain of never having any of her own.

She experimented with movie production but proved unsuccessful.

Regardless of the character she played, Shadia was the sweetest person one could hope to see on the screen. Nonna Bida referred to her as soukara (a piece of sugar). And soukara she indeed was as a person.

All her life, Shadia was an example to behold. She encouraged new musicians by singing their compositions. She helped and deeply cared for other people, be they members of her family, fans, or fellow professionals.

After her retirement, she went to live in Saudi Arabia. And there, in the birthplace of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him), she has dedicated her remaining days to worship and to enjoy a measure of peace far away from the limelight that for so long has been a part of her daily life.

Faten (attractive) Hamama (pigeon) was endowed with great beauty, an extraordinary acting talent, and natural grace. If Hollywood had Grace Kelly, we had Faten Hamama. She illuminated the screen by her mere presence; the characters she portrayed were not easily forgotten.

She was born in El Mansoura in 1931. Her dad, Ahmed Hamama, took her to a movie at the age of 6; after the movie the two made a secret pact! Little Faten felt that the audience were applauding for her, and Ahmed promised that he would do everything in his power to make her dream come true.

After winning a contest for the most beautiful child in Egypt, her father send her picture to Mohammed Karim (pioneer of Egyptian cinema). Providence was on her side as Karim was looking for a child for a film with Mohammed Abdel Wahab. The script for the film Yom Said (A Happy Day) was expanded to give her character a bigger role. Again, with Abdel Wahab, she acted in Russassa Fel Alb (A Bullet In The Heart). With her third movie, in 1946, Dunia (A World) Faten was ready for bigger roles.

In 1946, her family moved to Cairo to support her in her career. In the same year, she also started her studies in the High Institute of Acting.

Space does not permit me to talk about all her successful movies; it would not be a stretch to say that they were all well- received. She often acted in dramatic movies, but she also has to her credit many comedies. Who can forget her movie Seit El Beit (The Lady Of The House), the hilarious tribulations of a young married woman pitted against an intractable mother-in-law. Her astonishing role in the comedy El Ustaza Fatma (Mistress Fatma), where she portrays a lawyer, created a (fictional) Fatma who remains unforgettable to this day.

In 1952, El Manzel Rakam Talatashar (The House No. 13) introduced to Egyptian audiences the first mystery film.

In 1959, her movie Doa El Karawan (The Nightingale Prayer) was nominated in the Berlin’s International Festival, and almost made it to the Oscars.

In 1961, together with Omar Sharif, she starred in a classic, Nahr El Hob (The River Of Love), the remake of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.

In 1964, her feature El Laila El Akhira (The Last Night) captured 10 awards, and was also presented at the Cannes Festival.

Finally, in 1975, she single-handedly changed the marriage and divorce law when she acted in Orid Hallan (Needs A Solution).

She acted in more than 40 movies.

In 1947, she married director Ezzel Dine Zulficar; they divorced in 1953. They had one child. In 1954, she married Omar Sharif, they divorced in 1974. Again, the marriage was blessed with one child only.

Faten used her position to change many of the injustices besetting Egyptian society. She insisted that her films add values and impact society through family relationships. Such topics as marriage and divorce, the single mother, and vendetta were addressed.

She left Egypt in 1966 for Lebanon and the U.K. because she refused some political pressure applied on actresses. Gamal, through other parties, requested her return. She came back in 1971; by then Gamal Abdel Nasser had passed away (he died in 1970).

Faten Hamama is now in her late seventies; not as old as the pyramids, but still referred to as the Fourth Pyramid in the world of the Egyptian cinema.

I close by saying that her movie with Youssef Wahbi, Korsi El E’teraf (The Chair Of Confession) is one of the greatest films I have ever attended.

Her career was started with the help of Dawood Hosni who composed the first operetta in Arabic. In 1938, she starred in the movie “Yehia El Hob” (Long Live Love) with Mohammed Abdel Wahab. The movie was a success, and she never looked back.

In 1953, she was selected over Om Kalsoum as the official singer of the Egyptian revolution. And it is at this time that a rumor was circulated to the effect that she had visited Israel and donated money there.

Ultimately, no proof was ever found to support these allegations. To leave Egypt at the time and go directly to Israel would have been impossible since both nations were at war; to do so by traveling first to a European nation, and then go to Israel without attracting attention would have been very difficult. This absurd scenario eventually collapsed. Throughout that whole ordeal, she had Abdel Nasser support.

She was born in Cairo, in the Daher district in 1918. Her father, Ibrahim Zaki Mourad, was an Iraqi Jew and a famous hazzan (cantor), singer, and musician in the ’20s; her mother, Gamilah “Salmon” was a Polish Jew who presided over a family of 6 children.

In 1947, she married Anwar Wagdi (a well-known actor) and converted to Islam. They were married and divorced three times! Later she married Waguih Abaza; then after she divorced him, she married film director Fatin Abdel Wahab and gave him a son; they eventually divorced in 1969.

At the end of the ’50s, she gave up acting, and after 1973, she put an end to her singing career. She was a superb singer and a good actress.

Like other singers, she leaves behind hundred of songs to be enjoyed by the present generation of Egyptians, and many yet-unborn generations.

She acted in many movies with the likes of Mohammed Abdel Wahab and Youssef Wahbi.

Leila Mourad died in Cairo in 1995.