‘A sense of humour is the pole that adds balance to our steps as we walk the tightrope of life," according to an Arabic proverb.
When we can’t address something directly, we use humour to get the message across indirectly, in the hope that others understand what we really mean, without actually saying it.
Humour is an important outlet, especially in conservative communities or societies, where taboo issues can be brought up without too much backlash.
That is why a celebrity puppet called Abla Fahita has over 4 million followers online, as she can talk about controversial topics and get away with them since, well, she is a puppet. You can’t really get offended by a puppet.
“Just live it up! Life is beautiful, full of beautiful men,” she told me in an interview last week in her very special Egyptian accent with an English or French word thrown in here and there for good measure.
This gossipy widow with rollers in her hair, thick eyeliner and impressive jewellery is one of the region’s most outspoken feminists and founder of fictional association "on-my-own" for single women, widows and divorcees. She tells women to just have fun on their own.
“Why should life end for a widow or a divorced woman?”, demanded this puppet, who was eyeing a cute guy who passed by.
We discussed how “we” Arab women (well, I did forget at some point she was a puppet) are too shy to express our feelings or go after what we want. “Society doesn’t let us do it without judging us. But I tell you, men take a lot more than they give. So don’t depend on men, be free,” she said.
So what I really liked about this puppet, whose sense of humour does border on the raunchy sometimes, is that she tells it as it is. The best example is how she launched a hashtag that translated to “hands off our clothes”, in reaction to the Egyptian macho society where often men dictate what women should wear and should not wear.
Funnier still is how Abla Fahita does what many Arab parents do in real life. She is toughest on her daughter Caro (or Carcoura), whom she torments because “life is tough on girls and so she is training her to be extra tough”. Meanwhile, the “apple of her eye” is her baby son Boudi.
Upon the very mention of Boudi she says: “My habibi [love] Boudi. Habibi!” unable to resist fawning over and spoiling him at every chance she gets.
We have seen this in real life often enough. Over and over again, you would hear how it is OK for the son to do what the daughter is not allowed to do. He can be out late, date openly, but oh no, the daughter, must never be seen with a man unless he had already proposed and she must be home by 9pm or face a severe talking to. The son didn’t even come home for two nights, but that is OK. No one asks questions.
It is not about what is right or wrong or any judgments about actual behaviour as it is really no one’s business, but about the treatment of the female versus the male. Some of these issues are raised in a new account on Twitter – @feministsinuae – which Ayesha Almazroui discussed on these pages yesterday.
The creators behind Abla Fahita want to remain anonymous. They spend a lot of time studying the public to find out what is being talked about and then they bring these subjects up using Abla Fahita.
The internet is packed with humorous videos from around the Arab world, addressing everything from politics to unemployment. Some real talents and stars have come out from this format, talents that rightly deserve their own TV shows.
To understand, perhaps, where some of us are heading, we should check the pulse of what is being produced on social media. Sure, this content can be inconsistent, but it is interesting. Things we could never dare to address before are being considered through humour, and sometimes through an immaculately dressed puppet.
rghazal@thenational.ae
On Twitter: @Arabianmau
