In the bustling city of Cairo, where the desert meets a sea of buildings and the air buzzes with the energy of over 20 million inhabitants, Sudanese refugees like Julie Samir are making their mark. Through culinary ventures, they seek not only to sustain themselves in a foreign land but also to share the rich flavors of Sudanese culture with their Egyptian hosts. Julie Samir’s journey to opening her restaurant, “Kush Children’s Village,” embodies both resilience and cultural exchange, set against the backdrop of Cairo’s vibrant food scene.
Julie, 42, arrived in Cairo over a year ago, escaping the devastating conflict in Sudan that has torn her country apart. She traveled approximately 2,000 kilometers (about 1,200 miles) from Khartoum with her two children, seeking safety and stability. The conflict between Sudan’s regular army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces had driven half a million Sudanese to seek refuge in neighboring Egypt.
Upon settling in Cairo, Julie decided to pursue her dream of opening a restaurant—a dream that holds a deeper meaning amid her circumstances. “Kush Children’s Village,” nestled in the lawns of one of Cairo’s upscale sporting clubs, offers a menu that marries the culinary traditions of Egypt, Sudan, and Ethiopia. The restaurant’s name, inspired by the biblical kingdom of Kush, reflects the historical connections between these regions and is a nod to her father’s influence.
Operating a Sudanese restaurant in Cairo comes with its challenges. The culinary scene is fiercely competitive, particularly with the presence of established Syrian restaurants set up by fellow refugees. Despite these hurdles, Julie’s restaurant strives to maintain its Sudanese identity. “Everyone who works here is from Sudan,” Julie explains. They connected through social media networks formed by the diaspora in Egypt, which have become essential for mutual support among refugees.
In the kitchen, Chef Fadi Moufid, 46, meticulously prepares signature dishes that cater to local tastes while staying true to Sudanese flavors. His specialty, agashe—meat, chicken, or fish skewered and seasoned with a spicy peanut rub, then slowly barbecued over embers—is adjusted to suit the less spicy preferences of Egyptian palates. Alongside this, he serves zigni, a beef stew marinated in Ethiopian spices and served with injera, a spongy flatbread that complements the rich, complex flavors of the stew.
Despite the softened spice levels, the unique flavors of Sudanese cuisine are beginning to win over Egyptians. Khaled Abdelrahman, an Egyptian patron, praises the tender, well-spiced meat and the distinctiveness of the dishes, indicating the gradual integration of Sudanese culinary culture into the local food scene.
Meanwhile, in the western suburb of Sheikh Zayed, another Sudanese entrepreneur, Qussay Biram, operates a dessert shop named “Jeeb Maak,” which translates to “Bring Along.” Specializing in luqaimat—deep-fried dough balls similar to the Egyptian zalabia but with a twist—his shop surprises customers with a salty-sweet flavor profile, enhanced by more salt in the dough than the local version. This novel approach extends to beverages as well, with Biram serving traditional cardamom-spiced milk tea, introducing Egyptians to yet another aspect of Sudanese culinary tradition.
The success of “Jeeb Maak,” which has expanded to three branches across Cairo, stands as a testament to the resilience and entrepreneurial spirit of Sudanese refugees in Egypt. Yet, for Biram, success in Egypt is tinged with the sorrow of what was left behind. At 29, he doubts he will return to Sudan, where his businesses were shut down due to the war, and where ongoing conflict continues to devastate the nation.
For Julie Samir, the persistent conflict in Sudan has extended her stay in Egypt indefinitely. Originally planning only a month’s refuge, she now focuses on enriching her restaurant with elements of Sudanese culture, such as hiring a henna artist, to maintain a connection to the homeland she longs for. Her story, like that of many refugees, is one of profound loss and hopeful perseverance, using the universal language of food to bridge cultures and build new lives in the face of adversity.
Source: The Guardian
