By Zenith Kwinana
Cairo is an intense city. It is loud, chaotic and the air is unbearably thick, hot and polluted with cigarette smoke, car exhaust fumes and incessant noise. I arrived in Cairo in August of 2024, and I remember struggling to fall asleep for the first several days because of the heat, noise and mostly because Cairo itself is a city that doesn’t sleep. In a 2011 study on global cities, Cairo was ranked the “most 24-hour city” in the world, rivalled only by contenders such as Beirut, Buenos Aires and New York. Cairo takes the concept of living at night, i.e. its nightlife, to another level. It was completely normal for me to have dinner at 10 pm, zoom to Zamalek while riding pillion on a motorcycle for my nail appointment at 11 pm, then go for ahwa (tea and shisha) in Downtown at 1 am, only to return home at 3 am. Cairo taught me how to live more and sleep less. While the city’s restless energy and midnight madness made for unique and unforgettable memories, Cairo was nevertheless a hard place to navigate.
Egypt is known for the Giza Pyramids, which, as soon as you lay your eyes on them, you feel an inexplicable, awe-inspiring energy. Its ancient history of Pharaohs and Queens, the combination of biblical Christian importance and Islamic religion, and its pandemonium of daily life all contribute to the allure of this mystifying country. The Nile is not a river; it is a source of life. The Sahara is not a desert; it is a way of life. Even as far back as the 1940s, Cairo was known for its bustling cosmopolis where the Middle Eastern gentry would travel to mix and mingle. What Egypt is not particularly known for, however, is its respect for women. Like much of the world, misogyny is rife, and women are treated as second-class citizens to the dominant male gender. During the seven months that I lived in Egypt, I was assaulted, both physically and sexually, multiple times. According to a UN study, 99.3% of Egyptian women have reported experiencing sexual harassment or assault of some kind. It is safe to say that I truly embodied the essence of a local woman.
Hailing from South Africa, which is notoriously dubbed the “rape capital” of the world, this wasn’t much of a culture shock for me. I am aware of the acute struggles that South African women and children face on a daily basis, even from a personal standpoint, but it was all the more harrowing having to deal with that when you were living alone in a foreign country, trying to communicate in a language you can’t speak and navigating customs you don’t understand. Everyone who has moved to Egypt will tell you about the horror that is Abbasiya, the Office of Passports and Immigration. The level of bureaucracy in that office is enough to make a grown man cry. But I raise a new hell: El-Maadi Police Station, where I spent 8 hours trying to report an assault case via English-to-Arabic Google Translate, a room full of mocking men and a broken judicial system. Egypt humbled me.
It was not only the extreme moments mentioned above that made Egypt a destination for character-building and spine-strengthening, but also the seemingly small, everyday things. It was the constant haggling by street and market vendors, tourist scammers, and misdeeds such as catcalling, stalking and staring. Coupled with 40-degree Celcius weather, noise and air pollution, and overcrowding, Cairo is definitely not for the faint-hearted. And yet, I still came out of Egypt madly head-over-heels for the place. Indeed, I am not the first hostage to fall in love with her captor (R.I.P Moira Rose), but there truly is a remarkable magic about Egypt that, once you rise above the minor inconveniences, forgive its shortcomings and cleverly learn to navigate its streets (both literally and figuratively), you uncover a beauty. A hidden gem, of sorts. Egypt signified freedom, fun and flexibility (anything is possible there), and it truly is a hub for culture, creativity and meeting some of the most interesting people you will ever encounter, from the hilarious, witty locals to the curious international travellers.
With that being said, the greatest gift I received from Egypt was the friendships I formed with other free-spirited, unconventional young women who somehow made their way to Cairo at the same time I did. From Argentina, Germany, Vietnam, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, South Africa and Russia, we convened serendipitously at our headquarters in Maadi and made the best memories together. In fact, it was through my experiences with these girls that I learned so much about sisterhood, community and love. Not only did they protect me in those traumatising encounters with sexist men and share in some of those frustrations, but they taught me to be silly, to laugh out loud and to find happiness in a life that wants you to remain miserable and defeated.
So to survive, we would have dance parties with red wine and cherry slims, belting Rihanna’s ANTI at the top of our lungs until the neighbours literally came knocking on our door to tell us to shut it down. We would cook dinners together and host potluck parties in each other’s homes, lingering on the couch until we had full stomachs and full hearts. Last Ramadan, we fasted together and couldn’t wait to meet for iftar and suhoor. One of my good friends in Egypt would get me flowers with handwritten notes, dress me up in the garments she designed so I could feel sexy and empowered, and let me stay over at her apartment whenever I needed cuddles and a safe space. She is the same friend who stayed with me for 8 hours at the police station to resolve a case that I could not have done without her strength.
We had tea mornings and yoga in the garden, and afternoon picnics at the Al-Ahzar Park. We took girls’ trips to Siwa and Alexandria, and spent Galentine’s together. On my last day in Egypt, they accompanied me to the airport, without my asking, with flowers in tow and teary eyes. My standards in relationships skyrocketed after seeing what true intentionality, safety and softness could look like in the presence of my woman-centric friendships. They often say an exceptional man is just an average woman, and I couldn’t agree more. I can hardly remember the last time I received a bouquet of flowers from a man who wasn’t love-bombing me, yet I received a bouquet from my girlfriends at least once a month. They did it for me, and I did it for them, because subconsciously, we all knew that the only way to survive a chaotic world that was not designed to support women was by being each other’s support system.
While your new friends, like mine in Egypt, are silver, your old friends are gold. Something is fulfilling about meeting people in your 20s because you have a far stronger sense of self. You are not confined to the friendships of your hometown or childhood and can express yourself more freely in these new dynamics. However, there is something equally magical and nostalgic about maintaining friendships from your adolescence and watching them evolve as you all grow into adults. I have witnessed my friends from high school and undergrad navigate relationships, explore their sexualities, graduate with degrees and achieve their dreams. Eventually, I might even see some of them get married and have kids, Inshallah! It is both wonderful and wild to see the growth of girls with whom you were once 14 years old transform into phenomenal women. Granted, you will outgrow some old friends, and that is okay, too. But I credit the love I have learned to my longtime friendships.
One of my best friends and I would handwrite elaborate essays for each other, declaring our love and loyalty. She’s been my wife for 10+ years now, even though she has a boyfriend. At university, I met a friend with whom we would drink bottles of red, listen to vinyl records and talk for hours on end in our res rooms and at wine bars. I have another friend who flew out to an entirely different country to spend my 25th birthday with me, surprising me with champagne and matching pyjamas — eventually we got matching tattoos on the trip as well! I have a friend who will listen to hour-long voice notes as we unpack our traumas, dreams and latest endeavours. My friends never hesitate to talk to me for hours on the phone, affirming and supporting me, so how could I lose my cool over a guy who couldn’t be bothered to text me back? Romance, effort and unconditional love are no strangers in my life, thanks to my girlfriends.
Recently, I went to a farewell brunch for a friend who is relocating to the UK, where I knew no one other than one other friend. Yet, walking into an intimate space, I still felt the wholesome, positive energy. Being in our mid-20s now, we are in a much different place than we were in high school or varsity. At the brunch, most of us were working corporate jobs in legal or finance, one of us was a medical doctor specialising in gynaecology, and another had a master’s degree, not including the one who is an admitted attorney of the High Court and got a year contract to work in London! All this to say that this is the calibre of powerful women that I get to meet on a random Sunday at brunch. Insanely smart, funny, welcoming, confident in themselves, capable of having diverse, intellectual and refreshing conversations, all while smelling like cocoa butter and vanilla.
Our society would function much better in a matriarchy, as exemplified by the Mosuo, a Chinese community in which grandmothers and mothers head households, conduct business and own property. Or in African elephant herds, which are led by the wisest and oldest female. Until that is the reality of our modern tribes, I will continue to cultivate the strength and importance of female friendships and bask in the divinity of golden womanhood, shining my light for other women in Cairo, Cape Town or elsewhere in the world. Until then, the empowerment of fellow women is the only solution to patriarchy. In a world like this, our collective joy is the only antidote.
Love always,
Zenith x
Zenith Kwinana is a Stellenbosch University graduate, writer, model, and the founder of Gurlhood, currently pursuing her postgrad at the University of Pretoria. She loves the beach, tea, yoga and solo travelling the world.
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