On the first day of the blessed month of Ramadan this year,
a welcome surprise injected hope into hearts across the Arab
world. Sherihan’s long-awaited appearance and heartfelt
message spread love and positivity when it was most needed.
Sherihan narrated a lifetime in just four minutes; we lived
with her successes and stardom, felt her pain, sickness and
suffering, and cheered her recovery, captivated by her
seemingly limitless perseverance.
Sherihan was absent for 19 years. Her return ignited
nostalgia for the 1980s and 1990s that will be forever
associated with “fawazir”, a focal point in the collective
memory of a generation to which I belong.
Is the torrent of emotion that has been sparked by
Sherihan’s appearance simply a reaction to the drama of her
return – after withdrawing from the art scene at the height
of her youth? or is it, perhaps, the result of broader
nostalgia for that era?
Many people identify with Sherihan; her story touches a
chord within each of us. It tells of pain and ecstasy, of
hope in tragedy, and the ability to emerge stronger.
Sherihan stimulates our dormant passion and self-confidence.
She has restored our faith in achieving balance in our
lives, inspiring us to embrace the crises and hardships that
– far from defeating us – have allowed us to emerge stronger
and more resilient.
Persistence, positivity and self-control are the tools of
survival under extreme stress and are writ large in
Sherihan’s Ramadan appearance.
Glimmers of hope, no matter how small, offer boundless
opportunities. If it were not for love, hope and optimism,
we would be unable to undertake the journey of life. There
are people who seem to embody that hope – and Sherihan is
one of them.