Diaspora stories: Ya Rayah

Ya Rayah (You, the One Leaving) is one of the most famous Arabic songs worldwide, and, for me, it’s possibly one of the best songs ever written in any language. The Algerian ballad was originally written and performed in 1973 by Dahmane El Harrachi, and is directed at the traveler, the migrant, the exiled and the one longing for home.

Decades later, in 1997, this phenomenal song was revived by Rachid Taha. A year later, at the legendary 1,2,3 Soleils concert (featuring the trio live version of Abdel Kader), Taha, together with Cheb Khaled and Faudel, brought it to a whole new generation of people who don't speak Arabic, and it turned into a worldwide hit.

The song is full of wisdom, expressions of regret and longing for the homeland, because your problems will follow you no matter how far you travel. Taha, our generation’s voice for Ya Rayah, and an immigrant himself, traveled from our world yesterday. I read the best description of his voice so far in a 2004 article published in The Independent: “[It] sounds like a rattlesnake gargling on a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

I first heard the tune in an Egyptian TV commercial, possibly during the month of Ramadan. The lyrics were changed, ironically, to promote one of Cairo’s first gated communities, Dreamland. The song has the catchiest rhythm and we’d hum it at home — none of us is particularly great at this. I listened to Taha’s version almost daily when I was a foreign exchange student at the age of 15, my first trip outside of Egypt. The Algerian dialect was too difficult for me to understand, but that never stopped an Egyptian from making up her own lyrics (you should listen to my rendition of Didi). The chorus, which is also the first verse of the song, was the easiest to sing and understand: “You, the one leaving, where are you going? Eventually, you must come back. How many ignorant people have regretted this before you and me?”

For me, Ya Rayeh became the song of home, departure and return — the anthem of my travels. Many years and dozens of trips later, I decided to learn the meaning of the song and acquaint myself with Algerian vocabulary. My need to do so was triggered at a Senegalese pub near my flat in East London when an Algerian singer started performing the song. I was together with some Egyptian friends, fellow travelers and immigrants. We were all touched and sang along.

When I moved to Oslo, I started a habit of video recording myself singing and playing some of my favorite Arabic songs on the guitar. I share the ones I’m comfortable with on social media. In July of last year, I posted a video of me singing Ya Rayah, and it wasn’t long before the ripple effect occurred. My friend Mina, an Egyptian living in Sweden, commented with a video of him playing it on the oud. I also received a message from Ahmed, an Egyptian friend living in London, saying, “Oh, Mariam, I was feeling homesick already,” and a sad emoticon.

Rachid Taha, wherever you end up, may you rest in peace.