top of page
ACTOR
✦ TALES OF GIRLS

My first acting experience came with Tales of Girls – Season 3, a project that opened the door to a world I had only dreamed of. Standing in front of the camera for the first time, sharing scenes with the brilliant Dina El-Sherbiny, was both terrifying and exhilarating — a delicate balance between fear and fascination.

It wasn’t just about memorizing lines or following direction — it was about learning presence, timing, and truth. Every day on set felt like a new lesson in listening, feeling, and reacting.
Even though many of my scenes didn’t make it to the final cut, that experience taught me something far more valuable: that art is not measured by appearance, but by the emotion it leaves behind.
Tales of Girls became the quiet fuel that pushed me to chase this path, to seek not fame, but the mastery of craft — where performance meets sincerity, and dreams start to take form.

“Some beginnings don’t announce themselves — they simply plant the

✦ ABU GABAL

It was a leap from observation to immersion — where silence carried the weight of entire stories.
Every look, every breath, was part of a struggle larger than the script itself.

In Abou Gabal, the set felt alive with tension — a mirror of real families torn between love and greed.
For me, it wasn’t just acting; it was learning to embody the quiet ache of loss, the restrained anger, the invisible weight that tragedy leaves behind.
Standing among legends, I learned that true strength in performance isn’t in the words spoken… but in what you manage to hold back.

“Pain doesn’t always scream; sometimes it simply breathes through you.”

✦ SONS OF THE SUN

Some stories don’t need fantasy — reality itself is cruel enough.
Welad El Shams wasn’t just a drama; it was a mirror reflecting the forgotten children of pain and survival.

On set, every scene felt heavier than the one before.
It was not only about acting — it was about carrying a truth that too many choose not to see.
The silence of those young faces, the harsh lights of the orphanage, the moments between takes when fiction and life blurred into one.
This role left something inside me — a reminder that art is not escape, but confrontation.

“Sometimes, the hardest lines to deliver… are the ones reality already whispered.”

✦ SEA

Some stories rise from the dust — raw, proud, and unforgiving.
Bahar wasn’t only a tale of revenge and family honor; it was the echo of an entire world that still breathes through pride and silence.

Portraying life in the heart of Upper Egypt meant stepping into a rhythm older than time — where loyalty weighs more than life itself.
Every scene carried heat, dust, and unspoken pain.
Working within that world taught me that simplicity can hold tremendous depth — that a stare can be sharper than a blade, and silence louder than war.
The project left a mark on me, reminding me that truth in acting comes not from imitation… but from surrender.

“Some roles don’t just speak — they root themselves in your soul and stay.”

✦  FORGETFULNESS GAME

Some memories die to protect us — others haunt us to remind us who we are.
The Game of Forgetting is not just a drama; it’s a psychological maze where truth and illusion blur into one fragile heartbeat.

Working on this project was like walking through fog — each scene revealing a fragment of a lost life, each silence echoing guilt and redemption.
It forced me to question how memory shapes our choices, and how forgetting can sometimes be the cruelest punishment.
The story dives deep into human weakness — the weight of regret, and the quiet terror of not knowing yourself anymore.
In those moments, acting stopped being performance… it became reflection.

“We remember what hurts us the most — and forget what could have saved us.”

✦ BETWEEN US,
an AGREEMENT

Some stories don’t need grand settings — they live in the smallest details between two people trying to understand each other.
Beina Ettefaq is a gentle reflection on the beauty and fragility of human connection, on how love and compromise often meet halfway.

Through its quiet rhythm, the series unfolds lives that look ordinary — yet within them lies every emotion we’ve ever known: hesitation, hope, regret, and renewal.
Each character mirrors someone we’ve met, or once were.
Working on this story reminded me that the greatest performances are not in the moments of shouting or tears, but in the pauses — when silence says everything.

“Sometimes, love isn’t found in agreement… but in the courage to stay, even when it hurts.”

✦  OPEN VACATION

Sometimes, losing something is what brings you back to what truly matters.
Open Vacation wasn’t just about a man who lost his job — it was about rediscovering life when everything else seems to fall apart.

On set, I learned that family stories are never small; they carry the laughter, chaos, and fragile love that hold people together.
Each scene was a reminder that failure is not the end, but the pause before a new beginning.
Between the humor and heartbreak, I found a quiet truth — that every home hides both struggle and grace, and that hope always returns, even if through a different door.

“We fall apart to find the pieces that make us whole again.”

✦ OMAR'S LAW

Some stories test not your talent — but your endurance.
Omar’s Law was more than a drama; it was a story about truth, injustice, and the will to stand again when everything seems lost.

This project carried an energy different from any other — a rhythm of action, emotion, and silent rebellion.
Every scene demanded focus, every take was a race against fatigue and time.
Through it, I learned that strength in performance comes not from shouting innocence, but from letting the audience feel it.
Behind the lights and cameras, it was a journey of self-discovery — of realizing how much pain and hope can live in the same frame.

“Justice isn’t proven in court — it’s proven in the eyes that refuse to give up.”

✦  WHO SAID ?

Some dreams don’t fit the plans others draw for us.
Who Said? is a story about daring to question — to build your own path when everyone else has already decided who you should be.

Working on this project was like breathing a new kind of freedom.
It reminded me how every generation must fight its own battle — not with rebellion for its own sake, but with the quiet strength of conviction.
Every scene carried that clash between tradition and passion, between the comfort of approval and the fire of individuality.
In those moments, acting became more than performance — it became a dialogue with my own choices, my own voice.

“The hardest thing isn’t to dream differently… it’s to keep believing in that dream when no one else does.”

✦ FACE & BACK

Some lives begin again only after they break.
Face and Back is a story about masks — the ones we wear to survive, and the ones that end up wearing us.

This project carried a quiet tension; every scene felt like standing on the edge of exposure.
Behind each look was a secret, behind each word — a confession waiting to slip through.
The story blurred the line between guilt and redemption, reminding me that people are never entirely good or bad; they’re just lost in their own reasons.
It was a role that demanded stillness more than speech — to let the truth tremble just behind the eyes.

“We hide behind new names, but our past always remembers ours.”

✦  HAJJ NOAMAAN FAMILY

Some stories don’t just speak of wealth and power — they reveal what’s left when both disappear.
The Family of Hajj No’man is a journey through greed, madness, and the quiet collapse of everything money cannot buy.

Working on this project was like stepping into a time that still breathes through memory — a world built on appearances, and undone by secrets.
Every scene carried a heavy silence, the kind that comes before something breaks.
I remember how easily affection could turn into possession, and how love could decay under the shadow of control.
It was a reminder that the truest performances come from the spaces between strength and surrender — when the heart speaks what pride cannot.

“Some legacies aren’t inherited through blood… but through the pain they leave behind.”

bottom of page