Hend Sabry looks at every choice as if she were planting a tree. “More trees,” she says, “make a healthier ecosystem.” It’s how she approaches both her work and her life – raising daughters, choosing when to speak out, deciding when to walk away. The image is simple, but it has shaped the person she’s become.
The Tunisian-Egyptian actress and producer is a woman of intention. She’s also one of the region’s most singular voices – earning esteem few others reach – precisely because she’s so uncompromising.
In an era when audiences expect more of their role models, that cultural shift has made Sabry feel more essential than ever. “We need to be the voices of the oppressed – of the people who cannot voice what is happening to them right now, for so many reasons,” she says.
Sabry has shown, time and again, that her words carry weight. In November 2023, when the ongoing crisis in Gaza had just begun, she stepped away from her UN Goodwill Ambassadorship after 14 years because she felt the World Food Programme was not doing enough in response to the humanitarian catastrophe. What has unfolded since has only reaffirmed her decision.
“I could tell this was not what I was used to. This was not what I did with them for 14 years.
“There was something different here that, to me, was a no-go. I’m not going to abide by the double standards,” she explains.
As of late, Sabry has been thinking about how she became the woman she is today. It’s not a mystery she’s unravelling, rather an act of self-reflection. For the first time in her life, her greatest influence is no longer with her.
In July, her mother, Dalenda Klai, passed away after a long battle with illness. And while Sabry had time to ready herself for this moment, nothing really prepares you for such a loss. In the weeks since, she’s been struggling to parse the conflicting feelings that her mother’s absence has awoken in her. “I’m working on my grief,” Sabry says. “I hope with time, it takes another shape – that it’s less intense after a while. It’s a blessing to have this much love for someone. It’s a gift. But it’s a painful one.”
In the years leading up to her mother’s passing, as her condition worsened and even as conflicts in the region grew larger, Sabry’s priorities became more stark. “I’ve been less and less willing to put my energy and my time in those projects that don’t really matter to me, and that’s why I’ve perhaps also been less productive in the past couple of years,” the actress says.
When she does take on roles, she’s been doing some of the best work of her career. Her 2023 collaboration with Tunisian filmmaker Kaouther Ben Hania, on the genre-defying docudrama Four Daughters, earned an Oscar nomination for Best Documentary. And her Netflix series Finding Ola, a continuation of Sabry’s beloved 2010 show Ayza Atgawez, is a light-hearted hit that portrays mature women from a perspective rarely seen in the Arab world. Both are fearless works of art, tackling taboos head-on and generating conversations that push to the core of the human condition.
And now that she’s taken time to reflect in the wake of her mother’s passing, Sabry has been thinking back to how she grew so self-assured in the first place.
“I’m realising it even more now that she’s gone. She never judged me as a person, she accepted me as I was from the very beginning. I think this is how you give a voice to any woman in our society: let her discover who she is. That freedom allows me to take risks even today, because I was not part of the social construct that expects all women to be the same, to act the same, to dress the same. My mother protected me from that, and I’m so grateful.”
Encouraging a young girl to become the most assured version of herself is, at times, easier than it sounds. Sabry has felt that lesson most keenly as a mother herself. Both of her daughters are teenagers now, and she finds her greatest rival in helping them reach their own potential is social media.
“It’s dangerous, because, while there are so many tools that help you be different, so much of it is about conforming. I worry about that, because the later in life you find your voice, the harder it is to use it. I believe that life drags you to find yourself at some point. But if you start early on, with a family atmosphere that fosters that journey, then you end up living with fewer regrets,” she says.
Sometimes that requires a push. For Sabry, it certainly did. When she was 13 in the early 1990s, she and her parents attended a birthday party in Tunisia. There, she was spotted by director and screenwriter Nouri Bouzid, who was writing a film called The Silences of the Palace at the time. “He saw me and said to my father that I should come audition for the part, because I was the right age. And I responded: ‘No, I don’t want to go.’ I wasn’t up for it at all,” she says.
“But my mum and dad pushed me. They had no fear of what people were going to say, even though it was quite taboo back then in Tunisia to let your teenage daughter do a movie. It could have turned them into pariahs, but they didn’t care, because they thought it was best for me.
“Meanwhile, I just wanted to conform, like any other teenager. I was afraid of my friends at school. What would they say? They might say that I’m different, I thought. But my mother and father told me: ‘This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How many other people get to do this at 13?’ And they made me go to the audition, and helped me navigate through my fears,” Sabry continues.
Directed by Moufida Tlatli, The Silences of the Palace won the Golden Camera award at the 1994 Cannes Film Festival – getting Sabry the Best Actress award at the Carthage festival at the age of 14. It is even now considered one of the best Arab films ever made, due in no small part to her contribution. “I realised, ‘Oh, I must have some talent.’ But it’s people who saw it in me, I did not see it at first. I wanted to be a lawyer or a diplomat,” says Sabry.
The biggest risk she ever took came six years later, when, at the age of 20, she moved to Egypt alone to pursue acting as a career.
Once again, it was a move Sabry couldn’t have made without her mother. “In retrospect, I realise how much faith in me she had, and how much confidence in whatever my choices were,” she says.
With that kind of support, Sabry moved to Egypt with a far greater sense of herself than most people do when starting off in the film industry. Because of that, she keenly saw that just because she had left the art house for commercial fare, it did not give her the licence to take her craft any less seriously.
“I saw the impact that I could have on people’s lives. I’m driven by sharing experiences or sharing knowledge. Acting is a great tool for that. I think that’s what drove me and made me fall in love with this craft. You can tell people watching each series: ‘You’re not doing this alone. There are people who feel how you feel.’ Some of them are people who haven’t found their voices yet – and maybe my art can help them,” she says.
Her serious-mindedness went on to attract kindred spirits, too, such as director Marwan Hamed, who cast her in the now-classic The Yacoubian Building (2006) when he was also in his twenties. Since then, the two have collaborated on several of the most ambitious and highest-grossing films in Egypt’s long cinematic history, including The Blue Elephant, its sequel and Kira & El Gin.
“Every generation has a group of people who band together and carry the voice of that generation. I feel very privileged to be a part of this generation of directors and actors who grew together and have been able to make movies that were not possible before we started out,” says Sabry.
Some of her greatest joy is in watching as her collaborators reach new heights. Hamed’s next film, El Set, is a biopic about famed singer Umm Kulthum. Ben Hania’s latest, The Voice of Hind Rajab, about the young girl in Gaza killed by Israel last January, debuted to a record ovation at Venice Film Festival this month. Sabry is bursting with pride for both of them – calling them fearless, invincible and visionary.
For her, their success feels like part of the same forest she has been tending all along. Each choice, each risk, each refusal to compromise are all trees that make the ecosystem stronger. And though grief is reshaping Sabry’s life in ways she has yet to discover, she knows the only way is to keep planting – knowing that her mother is still with her, holding out the seeds.
“When you’re gone, what remains is the legacy of a person. My mother was a teacher, and over the past several weeks, I’ve received messages, emails and condolences from so many of her former students. All of them have said the same thing: ‘This teacher was different. She taught me to be myself. She believed in me when nobody did.’ Only certain types of people get to have a legacy like that.”
And as she moves forward into the next phase of her life, carrying her mother’s lessons more firmly than ever, Sabry is determined to build on that legacy – the one her mother dreamt for her, and the one she now dreams for others.
Her mother planted the first tree, and Sabry will continue to spend her life making sure the forest outlasts them both.
Photo shoot credits
TN Magazine editor: Nasri Atallah
Fashion director: Sarah Maisey
Photographer: Hussein Mardini
Creative direction: Noor Babylon
Art direction: Mohammed Maged
Producer: Saleh Junior
Hairstylist: Silvia Bernaba
Make-up artist: Mariam Habashi
Make-up assistant: Hamsa
Production by Unscene
Shot on location at Bayt Yakan, Cairo
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