Donia Wael’s sweet voice became the soundtrack to long nights on Cairene roads and Egyptian balconies long before we knew the face behind it. Anonymized as a cartoon character next to El Waili’s green skull or an animated outline of a slim body with long curly hair in the 2022 hit single “El 3asal,” Wael began her career trusting that her music would reveal everything listeners needed to know about her.

“I wanted people to connect and judge me for my music only,” Wael shares in a video call with OkayAfrica. Her songs, often bridging melancholy with electronic production and traditional Egyptian instruments, built her a loyal fan base, even though her listeners wouldn’t recognize her if they saw her in person.

“I’m over that, honestly,” she says. “I’m trying to connect on a physical level, because I realized that when people see you, they will find themselves in you. I feel like I grew up with the audience.”

In the visuals for her latest EP, Bifkrny Beek, Wael is seen dancing in Cairo, wearing glitter make-up and cute clothes. In many ways, she is exactly how her audience would have imagined her to be: playful and down-to-earth. Mu7tarama, as Egyptians would say: a respectable woman.

How did an extremely shy child become a successful musician with the aspirations to go global?

“It’s an ongoing process,” says Wael, who speaks as if she were talking to a friend, rather than repeating rehearsed phrases. “Growing up, I didn’t really share my feelings in conversations. I’m not gonna tell you what’s bothering me, but I’ll write you a song about it.”

She got into songwriting at 17, after she saw a boy playing the ukulele on a Sinai beach. “It was magical to me,” she remembers. “I went home and had to buy anything that had strings.”

With teaching herself the guitar came the ability to express herself with words. Wael has no songwriting technique. She starts strumming the guitar, and something comes out - it used to be stories she wanted to tell, before she fell in love with the traditional melody structure of a song.

Her mother used to listen to her music from behind the door, because Wael was too shy to share it. As she grew older, she began attending open mics and playing her original music on a keyboard.

“I never thought that I’d get gineh masry, one Egyptian pound, from making music,” she says. “I’m the biggest example that shyness can be overcome. Oof, I used to hide! Now I’m totally fine.”

It was studying acting that finally got Wael out of her shell. “I went into it thinking that it’ll help me write better music,” she shares. “It made me understand emotions and the person in front of me more. I fell in love with it. I want to live different lives and write music from the perspective of different characters.”

With a newly discovered love for acting and an EP already out this year, what else could Wael dream of? A girlband! Growing up listening to alternative Arab bands like Cairokee and Mashrou’ Leila, she had been wishing for her own girl band ever since she was in school, but could never find other girls who played instruments.

“Egyptian girls would only sing,” she says. “I wanted to hunt for girls [who play instruments], because I thought that we shared the same passion. And I wanted to influence more women to play instruments.”

Her hunt took several months during which she asked every musician she knew and “went crazy stalking and searching” on the internet until she found Randa Shoukry, an electric guitarist who knew other women instrumentalists.

“I found out that I actually like collaborating and that I’m a people person,” says Wael about launching her own girlband with “Ezay.” “It feels warmer and safer, because you have people to look at and jam with.”

She hopes to tour with her band and wants people to know each band member for their skill, not for the fact that they’re women.

There’s a red line that connects Wael’s EP, love for acting, and girlband: “I want people to know that they’re not alone and that it’s okay to be vulnerable,” she says. “Once, a fan told me something very important: ‘Your music helped me not to be alone in a certain phase, but I want you to know that you’re also not alone.’”

It takes coming out of one’s shell to really feel and appreciate the connections that art facilitates between humans. That’s why, after several years in the public ear, Wael is ready to step into the public eye.

In the Arabic-speaking world, Marwan Moussa needs no introduction. The Egyptian German rapper and producer has dominated the rap scene for years, rising to fame for his hard-hitting bars and effortless flow. A man who enjoys bragadociousness and does it well, Moussa is the third most-streamed Arab rapper of all time and has received three All Africa Music Awards.

After losing his mother to illness in October 2023, Moussa did not listen to music for six months. Then, he returned with "3AMEL EH" (What do I do) in July 2024, on which he opens up to his therapist about his depression, inviting listeners into a journey of climbing out of the darkness.

This week, Moussa revealed الرجل الذي فقد قلبه (The Man Who Lost His Heart), a conceptual framework for the introspective tracks he has been releasing. Throughout the album, the female voice we hear on "3AMEL EH" tells him that everyone deals with the same feelings in different ways. She introduces him to the five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance - which he adopts as an artistic lens for the 23 tracks across five discs.

"I wanted to make a sad album, but I cannot say accurately what I was going through," Moussa tells OkayAfrica. "I was creating as I went and tried to fit songs into categories. Maybe creating these songs was therapeutic, but I cannot say accurately which stage I went through with which song."

Each disc has stylistic elements that bring Moussa's emotions to life. Denial sounds like string instruments and trap shaabi, a mix of dark trap beats over traditional Egyptian rhythms. Anger rises with Arabic scales and instruments like the Oud. "I felt like [anger] is a very Arab emotion and state," says Moussa. "It's how we express grief the most, especially as men."

His favorite track on the album, "TAQATO3," is on the anger disc. Starting rap-heavy, the track samples the iconic song "Shagar El Lamoon" by Egyptian singer Mohamed Mounir, before ebbing into a vibe that Moussa describes as "melancholic, somehow sad but euphoric."

Moussa wrote and recorded "TAQATO3" between Thailand and Los Angeles; the album came together in studios all over the world. "We just recorded in the places that we happened to be at, and we let it add color and flavors to the album, which I think added diversity to the songs," he says.

Bargaining heavily features the piano, the instrument Moussa associates with questioning. While the other discs have at least one feature, bargaining is the only emotional state he navigates completely alone. With track three of that disc, "Fahman Donya," he recently became the first Arabic-language rapper to perform on the global rap platform From The Block.

Depression is characterized by ambient, mournful textures. Moussa sings and bears his soul over simplistic, repetitive melodies that feature string instruments and the piano, carrying a distinguishable Egyptian rhythm that embeds the universal experience of loss in a specific cultural context.

Throughout the album, a male voice tells Moussa "hawil tiftikir" (try to remember), reminiscent of Kendrick Lamar’s use of voicenotes. However, Moussa did not have any musical influences for this project. "In the beginning, I thought that was a bad thing. Everything just came from the mind," he says. "But I hope that it will become more timeless because there are no musical reference points."

Acceptance closes the album with Moussa emerging on the other side. This disc is more playful, incorporating jazz piano, Afrobeats, and the assertion that he must keep trying. "[The album] is not about being sad or breaking up with someone. It's about losing someone who dies, specifically, "says Moussa. "I would love it if it helps someone navigate through a period of sadness. Like a map."

Now that he has revealed this deeply vulnerable and raw side of himself, will Moussa continue along this path? "I miss doing an ego song," he says and laughs. "I want to do music that makes me feel confident. That's what I love about classic rap: you say stuff, you feel cool, and it feels good. But that's not how I felt the past year, so I couldn't rap like that."

There's a common concern that Egyptian rap lost its authenticity when it became mainstream, and some voices mutter that the genre is dying out. Moussa agrees that rappers have not been at their best in recent years, but he has noticed a brooding resurgence.

"I think people will become more competitive in the next few months. The action is going to come back," he says. "I think we'll see some battles and hear music that feels like more time has been spent making it. I can feel it and am excited to be a part of it." The Man Who Lost His Heart, with its poignant lyricism and expertly crafted sonic layers, can spearhead a revival of vanguard Egyptian rap, should it actually be on its way.

It is common knowledge in the Arab world that Egyptians tend to overstate their cultural achievements. They successfully exported their films and music to the rest of the region, asserting themselves as an artistic hub for decades (and sometimes forgetting that they are not the only ones creating good art).

Growing up with Ramadan mosalsalat, other Arabic speakers usually switch to the Egyptian dialect when talking with an Egyptian because most Egyptians only understand their own dialect. As a result, there is a certain resentment when Egyptians dominate cultural spheres.

This is to say that I am aware of how controversially Egyptian April’s list of best North African songs is. But denying that the catchiest, most interesting music came out of Egypt this month would be a lie. So, at the risk of being part of the Egypt-centric problem, here are this month’s song recommendations.

Carly Gibert, Lella Fadda - “Everything new [remix]” (Egypt, Spain)

Egypt’s most-streamed female rapper Lella Fadda jumps on a remix of Spanish singer Carly Gibert’s “Everything New,” rapping in Arabic and Italian over the track’s industrial beat. With its ethereal back vocals and harp-like synths, “Everything New” is at once a hopeful spring song and a badass rap collaboration.

Nadah El Shazly - “Kaabi Aali” (Egypt)

“Kaabi Aali” teases the upcoming second album of Egyptian-born, Montreal-based producer, vocalist, and composer Nadah El Shazly, titled Laini Tani, set for release on June 6. As with her previous offerings, El Shazly creates a hypnotic, multi-layered soundscape, fusing experimental electronics and Egyptian rhythms over which she delivers haunting vocals. “This song takes place amidst Cairo’s neon green city lights and should definitely be listened to at high volume in the car,” says El Shazly.

Wegz, Tayc - “Girlfriend” (Egypt, France, Cameroon)

Rapper Wegz teams up with French Cameroonian R&B singer Tayc for Afro-R&B track “Girlfriend,” demonstrating Wegz’ versatility; the single dropped only a few days after a nostalgic return to his 2019 trap roots on “ElWa3d.” While the track is an interesting, unusual conversation between artists from different worlds, I would have loved Wegz to do a dance scene like Tayc for real revolutionary appeal.

Mazin Hamid, Eiman Yousif - “Ya Jamal Alneel” (Sudan)

Sudanese musician and actor Eiman Yousif, best known for her role in Goodbye Julia, collaborates with Mazin Hamid for “Ya Jamal Alneel,” an ode to the beauty of the River Nile. Over simple guitar and melodica chords, this heartfelt duet remembers Khartoum as the place where the White and the Blue Nile converge, invoking memories of joyful afternoons at the riverbank before the outbreak of war.

Dallo - “Ghara (Remastered)” (Egypt)

Cairo-born electronic music producer Dallo returns with “Ghara (Remastered),” a hypnotic journey that links sufi chants with electronic experimentation and plays with the voice as a soundscape.

Warchieff, Freek, Ma-Beyn, The Hws, TUFF - “Mahzla” (Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Somalia, Syria, Palestine)

On “Mahzla,” Saudi producer Warchieff brings together a powerful group of up-and-coming rappers from North Africa and the Levant. The track features Freek, Ma-Beyn, The Hws, and TUFF, blending their high-energy bars and various Arabic dialects with hard-hitting trap beats and an experimental soundscape built on an unsettling bassline.

DJ Habibeats, Felukah - “Hayati” (Egypt, Palestine, US)

Taking us back to the early 2000s, Palestinian American DJ Habibeats and Egyptian rapper and singer Felukah throw a garage party on “Hayati,” a dance track that makes me yearn for summer. Over Habibeats’ trap rhythms and R&B textures, Felukah delivers bilingual Arabic and English vocals that explore diasporic identity, a theme relevant to both US-based artists. The mood switch halfway through the track makes me want to hit repeat every time it ends.

Marwan Moussa - “Bosakber” (Egypt)

Egyptian German rapper Marwan Moussa, the country’s third most streamed rapper, is preparing to release his most personal album. The album is split into five parts, each section tracing the stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—after the loss of his mother. “Bosakber” is the second preview single, a fusion of hip-hop beats, sufi elements, oud arrangements, and shaabi that narrates the experience of heartbreak, trust issues, and spiraling mental chaos. The music video is a testament to Moussa’s love for film, which he studied in Rome.

Obie - “AS7a” (Sudan)

Obie is a Sudanese teenager with a promising flow. On his latest track, “AS7A,” he reintroduces himself to the scene after releasing his Supernova EP last year, and I am intrigued. Mixing fast, playful beats inspired by Afrobeats and Amapiano, paired with his effortless, assertive bars, Obie sounds older than he really is.