'The 3aib Song’: Palestinian vlogger Haifa Beseisso tackles shame culture in powerful new song

The lyrics are derived from discussions with Arab women regarding the pressures they face daily

‘The 3aib Song’ by Palestinian vlogger Haifa Beseisso tackles the stigmatisation of Arab women. Courtesy Haifa Beseiss

The video for ‘The 3aib Song’ was shot in the desert location of Al Maliha in Sharjah. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

Haifa Beseisso's song is about 'aib,' a term defining forms of behaviours deemed to bring shame to one’s self, family and associates. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

Haifa Beseisso raps a list of social minefields Arab women navigate. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

In the background there is a chorus of male voices striking down the suggested behaviour with, 'Shame on you'. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

The list of no-nos include being ungrateful, unthoughtful and not having hot meal ready when the husband returns from work. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

Haifa Beseisso admits if it wasn’t for the humour in ‘The 3aib Song’, the whole affair would have sounded depressing. Courtesy Haifa Beseisso

In an Arab world where cultures and traditions intertwine, the concept of shame is as central as it’s strong.

Generations are raised to avoid the scourge of “aib,” an increasingly nebulous term defining forms of behaviours deemed to bring shame to one’s self, family and associates.

Arab women acutely feel the weight of aib.

Actions are constantly scrutinised, from the tone of voice to the colours worn.

Palestinian vlogger Haifa Beseisso expresses those anxieties in the bouncy The 3aib Song, with an accompanying music video shot in the desert location of Al Maliha in Sharjah.

Over a funky production of throbbing bassline and horns, Beseisso raps a list of social minefields that Arab women navigate, all the while a chorus of male voices strike down the suggested behaviour with, “Shame on you.”

The list of no-nos include being ungrateful, unthoughtful and not having hot meals ready when the husband returns from work.

Replying to the last part, Beseisso dryly states she better fix "the king" some "soup and panini."

And that’s only at home.

Beseisso starkly illustrates how aib also pervades the workplace: “If he works over time, he is hard worker,” she raps. “If she works overtime? She is selfish.”

Borne of hard truths

Speaking to The National, Beseisso concedes if it wasn't for the humour coursing throughout the track, the whole affair would have sounded depressing.

“It was very hard to actually talk about it at first, but I realised I had to be honest with myself about it before going out being vocal in public,” she says.

"The reality is that it is more difficult being an Arab woman than, for example, a Western woman. I know this because I have travelled and seen it first-hand.

“They don’t have the background voice of the family, the uncles, the neighbours and social media who make many of us think, ‘What are people going to think or say about me?’ It is crippling.”

As well as agitating for a wider discussion among families and greater Arab society, Beseisso describes The 3aib Song as a form of collective therapy.

The fact the lyrics are conversational, she says, is no accident.

"It began with discussions I had online with friends about the pressures we women go through in terms of looks, from your cheeks, lips, nose," she says.

"And then we realised that it went beyond that and how we felt that pressure at home, including marriage. The more we look at it we realised it all comes down to this fear of aib, and how that culture has restricted women no matter what we did.”

Time to speak up

That anguish is real.

Beseisso saw the pernicious effects of what she describes as “aib culture,” when recently uploading fresh content without her hijab.

She recalls how the decision not to wear the hijab, which she details in an Instagram video from August 2020, resulted in backlash and personal abuse.

"For the longest time I was loved a lot because people looked at me as this bubbly woman travelling the world with the hijab and how I am representing this part of the word. My confidence was celebrated because I had a scarf on," she says.

"Once I decided to take it off earlier this year, I was attacked and I was accused of using the scarf for money. Which is totally false and painful.”

The experience illustrated to Beseisso the extra scrutiny Muslim women constantly face.

"They are doubly judged. If you were a hijab and you laugh out loud or wearing vibrant colours, you are told you are being disrespectful," she says.

"I experienced this and now I just need to talk about it. I am 30 years old, this is part of my personal growth and I now have the guts to express this. I believe in human rights and the idea that someone pays a higher personal tax for being from a certain gender doesn't make sense to me. It is unjust."

Beseisso cautions not to misconstrue her indignation. “It comes from a place of love for my culture and the Arab world,” she says.

The depth of Arabic youth culture

Indeed, her seven-year-career as a vlogger is full of vibrant content celebrating Arab cultures and that corrects regional misperceptions.

Popular videos in her Fly With Haifa YouTube channel, which has over 800,000 subscribers, include a spirited take down of Hollywood representation of the Middle East.

While for Instagram, she marshalled 10 Arab social media personalities, from the UAE to Morocco, to take part in 2020's Don't Rush viral beauty challenge.

A former television presenter, Beseisso says social media remains the premier platform to capture the depth of Arabic youth culture.

"What television offers you is a team and a chance to delegate and share the workload, while with social media you are basically a one-person operation and the work never stops," she says.

"But it is in places like YouTube, for example, you will see well-travelled young Arabs with different personalities and perspectives.

“I am a mix of all of that. We are part-pop culture and part-tradition and most importantly we are not afraid to try."