Egyptian mother and Saudi son reunited after more than 30 years separation

Turki Khaled Al Sunaid, 36, said he was separated from his mother, Abeer Hanafi, before he was four. (Supplied)
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Updated 15 May 2023
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Egyptian mother and Saudi son reunited after more than 30 years separation

CAIRO:  It’s the stuff movies are made of, a Saudi man finds his Egyptian mother 30 years after his father separated them when their marriage fell apart. 

Turki Khaled Al Sunaid, 36, said he was separated from his mother before he was four. 

She had returned to her country to see her family, when her husband decided to end their marriage and took their son home with him according to the website Al Arabiya.  

Since then, Sunaid has not seen his mother.

His father died when he was 16, so Sunaid moved in with his grandmother. 

When she died he moved in with an elderly relative until he got married when he was 28.

Despite the constant changes in his life, Sunaid always remained eager to find his mother. 

He asked for help from the Egyptian embassy in Riyadh, but then decided to travel to Egypt himself to find her. 

And 32 years after their separation, with the help of the Saudi embassy in Cairo Sunaid finally found his mother. 

Like a needle in a haystack, he thumbed through stacks of documents until he found papers at the embassy that referred to his parents.

The Egyptian authorities then launched a search for his mother, and after visiting several addresses found her.

“The Saudi embassy in Cairo contacted my mother, and they told her about me.”

And he said that after a few conversations they were reunited.  

Mother, Abeer Hanafi, who lives in Alexandria, said she had attempted to reach her son over the years, but his father’s surviving family had denied her access.

“I tried to reach him by calling [the father’s] family but no one would answer me. And when they did, they would tell me: We told him [Sunaid] that you are dead! They told me I cannot speak to him,” Hanafi told Al-Arabiya TV’s morning show

“I would tell them let me just hear his voice, without me saying that I’m his mother, and they would still refuse.”

Sunaid said he tried to reach his mother earlier through relatives who knew her but to no avail. It was then when he decided to seek the embassy’s assistance. 

“In the beginning I couldn't believe it, it felt like a dream, thanks to the Saudi embassy and the Saudi ambassador for helping me find my mother,” he said. 

Now, and after they were brought together, Sunaid told the show that he will try to bring his mother to Riyadh and will keep visiting her in Egypt as well.

“I will try to bring her happiness and make it up to her. I always felt that I was missing something in my life without her presence by my side,” he added.


How TV shows like ‘Mo’ and ‘Muslim Matchmaker’ allow Arab and Muslim Americans to tell their stories

(Clockwise) Hoda Abrahim, founder and CEO of, "Love, Inshallah,", Actor Ramy Youssef, Mohammed Amer and Yasmin Elhady. (AP)
Updated 28 December 2025
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How TV shows like ‘Mo’ and ‘Muslim Matchmaker’ allow Arab and Muslim Americans to tell their stories

  • In addition to “Mo,” shows like “Muslim Matchmaker,” hosted by matchmakers Hoda Abrahim and Yasmin Elhady, connect Muslim Americans from around the country with the goal of finding a spouse

COLUMBUS, Ohio: Whether it’s stand-up comedy specials or a dramedy series, when Muslim American Mo Amer sets out to create, he writes what he knows.
The comedian, writer and actor of Palestinian descent has received critical acclaim for it, too. The second season of Amer’s “Mo” documents Mo Najjar and his family’s tumultuous journey reaching asylum in the United States as Palestinian refugees.
Amer’s show is part of an ongoing wave of television from Arab American and Muslim American creators who are telling nuanced, complicated stories about identity without falling into stereotypes that Western media has historically portrayed.
“Whenever you want to make a grounded show that feels very real and authentic to the story and their cultural background, you write to that,” Amer told The Associated Press. “And once you do that, it just feels very natural, and when you accomplish that, other people can see themselves very easily.”
At the start of its second season, viewers find Najjar running a falafel taco stand in Mexico after he was locked in a van transporting stolen olive trees across the US-Mexico border. Najjar was trying to retrieve the olive trees and return them to the farm where he, his mother and brother are attempting to build an olive oil business.
Both seasons of “Mo” were smash hits on Netflix. The first season was awarded a Peabody. His third comedy special on Netflix, “Mo Amer: Wild World,” premiered in October.
Narratively, the second season ends before the Hamas attack in Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, but the series itself doesn’t shy away from addressing Israeli-Palestinian relations, the ongoing conflict in Gaza or what it’s like for asylum seekers detained in US Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention centers.
In addition to “Mo,” shows like “Muslim Matchmaker,” hosted by matchmakers Hoda Abrahim and Yasmin Elhady, connect Muslim Americans from around the country with the goal of finding a spouse.
The animated series, “#1 Happy Family USA,” created by Ramy Youssef, who worked with Amer to create “Mo,” and Pam Brady, follows an Egyptian American Muslim family navigating life in New Jersey after the 9/11 terrorists attack in New York.
Current events have an influence
The key to understanding the ways in which Arab or Muslim Americans have been represented on screen is to be aware of the “historical, political, cultural and social contexts” in which the content was created, said Sahar Mohamed Khamis, a University of Maryland professor who studies Arab and Muslim representation in media.
After the 9/11 attacks, Arabs and Muslims became the villains in many American films and TV shows. The ethnic background of Arabs and the religion of Islam were portrayed as synonymous, too, Khamis said. The villain, Khamis said, is often a man with brown skin with an Arab-sounding name.
A show like “Muslim Matchmaker” flips this narrative on its head, Elhady said, by showing the ethnic diversity of Muslim Americans.
“It’s really important to have shows that show us as everyday Americans,” said Elhady, who is Egyptian and Libyan American, “but also as people that live in different places and have kind of sometimes dual realities and a foot in the East and a foot in the West and the reality of really negotiating that context.”
Before 9/11, people living in the Middle East were often portrayed to Western audiences as exotic beings, living in tents in the desert and riding camels. Women often had little to no agency in these media depictions and were “confined to the harem” — a secluded location for women in a traditional Muslim home.
This idea, Khamis said, harkens back to the term “orientalism,” which Palestinian American academic, political activist and literary critic Edward Said coined in his 1978 book of the same name.
Khamis said, pointing to countries like Britain and France, the portrayal in media of people from the region was “created and manufactured, not by the people themselves, but through the gaze of an outsider. The outsiders in this case, he said, were the colonial/imperialist powers that were actually controlling these lands for long periods of time.”
Among those who study the ways Arabs have been depicted on Western television, a common critique is that the characters are “bombers, billionaires or belly dancers,” she said.
The limits of representation
Sanaz Alesafar, executive director of Storyline Partners and an Iranian American, said she has seen some “wins” with regard to Arab representation in Hollywood, noting the success of “Mo,” “Muslim Matchmaker” and “#1 Happy Family USA.” Storyline Partners helps writers, showrunners, executives and creators check the historical and cultural backgrounds of their characters and narratives to assure they’re represented fairly and that one creator’s ideas don’t infringe upon another’s.
Alesafar argues there is still a need for diverse stories told about people living in the Middle East and the English-speaking diaspora, written and produced by people from those backgrounds.
“In the popular imagination and popular culture, we’re still siloed in really harmful ways,” she said. “Yes, we’re having these wins and these are incredible, but that decision-making and centers of power still are relegating us to these tropes and these stereotypes.”
Deana Nassar, an Egyptian American who is head of creative talent at film production company Alamiya Filmed Entertainment, said it’s important for her children to see themselves reflected on screen “for their own self image.” Nassar said she would like to see a diverse group of people in decision-making roles in Hollywood. Without that, it’s “a clear indication that representation is just not going to get us all the way there,” she said.
Representation can impact audiences’ opinions on public policy, too, according to a recent study by the Institute for Social Policy and Understanding. Results showed that the participants who witnessed positive representation of Muslims were less likely to support anti-democratic and anti-Muslim policies compared to those who viewed negative representations.
For Amer, limitations to representation come from the decision-makers who greenlight projects, not from creators. He said the success of shows like his and others are a “start,” but he wants to see more industry recognition for his work and the work of others like him.
“That’s the thing, like just keep writing, that’s all it’s about,” he said. “Just keep creating and keep making and thankfully I have a really deep well for that, so I’m very excited about the next things,” he said.