30 Years of Dabuka – A Milestone
An Evening Between Reflection and New Beginnings
After months of preparation, the day had finally arrived yesterday. We celebrated the 30th anniversary of our company.
Shortly before such major events, one often finds oneself thinking: “Why did I do this to myself? So much stress, so many uncertainties. Planning, money.”
But I knew that I wanted to make something visible: to create a moment of reflection, to pause and show how many successful tours, events, and projects have come to life over the years.
People often tend to focus very closely on everything that is not working (and there is certainly enough of that in this industry, especially in Egypt), rather than taking a moment to be proud of what has been achieved.
Tours through Libya, Sudan, and, of course, again and again through the Egyptian desert, including the legendary Gilf el Kebir.
Projects, Stories, People
There has also been support for scientific projects (NASA), film productions (ORF), archaeological missions (University of Vienna), sporting events (Rowing the Nile), and cultural initiatives (piano and ballet in the desert). The list is long.
And at the center of all this: Tarek – founder and owner of the company, who has ultimately guided it through every challenge with ingenuity, perseverance, and determination. Coincidentally, he is now also my husband, but this is really about the business relationship.
Armed with all this material and many ideas, we began planning the event.
Food, Logistics, and the Invisible Infrastructure
The central question of any event: what will there be to eat?
Of course, catering should be outsourced, but who, what, where?
Fortunately, we found a restaurant willing to prepare fresh food directly in our garden. Pizza from the oven, pasta prepared on the spot, and vegetarian options as well—there should be something for everyone.
Toilets are also essential—what goes in must come out again. The existing garden toilet was not nice enough. Bringing everyone into the house? No.
So portable toilet cabins were ordered, delivered, installed, and served their purpose very well.
The Garden Becomes a Stage
Mostafa and his team spent days getting the garden into shape. No weeds growing anywhere, no forgotten rubbish by the front door, no loose cables, and above all, a functioning electricity supply.
Lighting, food, and the presentation all depended on it. I preferred not to look too closely at some of the hanging cables.
The list continued: tables, chairs, benches, lighting, drinks… written down in only a few words, but carried by a team that once again pulled together.
Particularly important was the technical setup. We prepared a presentation with photographs and music, which would be projected onto a screen in the garden. The screen, by the way, was simply a stretched piece of fabric—carefully ironed and brilliantly white, and it worked perfectly.
Rehearsals, Small Secrets, and Great Anticipation
Mariam and Amir, together with Nofal, ensured that everything would run smoothly.
I was nervous as well because I had come up with two sketches that would create surprise moments during the presentation. That required a little acting. Nofal agreed to participate, a script was written and discussed.
Attention—please stop the presentation exactly at this point.
Attention Mohamed—please make my phone ring at exactly this moment.
Mostafa—please remember to bring old newspaper in time.
Do the microphones work?
Oh my goodness, it is Eid. Nobody is working. Where are we going to find new batteries?
The Day of Truth
In theory, planning was complete. In reality, many things still had to be done on the day of the event itself.
I chose not to think about it too much. As long as there were still a few days left, there was still time.
Three days.
Two days.
Today.
I wake up and know: okay, now I simply have to do this—and I can do it.
I had prepared my welcome speech and rehearsed it in front of an imaginary audience so many times that I finally felt confident I would not stumble over my words.
When the Garden Comes Alive
The garden became increasingly busy. Furniture was delivered. Where exactly should everything go?
Martin, the pianist, arrived early to set up his place. He was a little nervous as well because he was part of the performance and wanted to connect with the audience.
Help—the USB connection between the piano, microphone, and speakers is not working?
Fortunately, the technical team was able to solve the problem.
At the back of the garden, the toilet cabins were installed. At the front, the furniture was arranged. In between came the food.
Photographs were hung up, brochures laid out. We had even produced a special anniversary edition featuring true stories.
Focus, Family, and Trust
I wandered around a little, but repeatedly retreated into the house.
More and more, I focused on my role that evening, blocking out everything else. I would be the host, guiding people through the programme and acting in the sketches.
My wonderful sons sent me encouraging messages to keep going.
But I knew: it would be fine.
The Evening Begins
At 6 p.m., Martin opened the evening with piano music. The first guest arrived.
Then a few more.
People trickled in.
I waited before officially opening the event until a few more guests had arrived.
Where are they?
Messages came in:
“We can’t find the place. Could you send the location again?”
“Yes, of course—we’re almost there, but we can’t stay very long…”
Okay.
Curtain Up
And then: curtain up.
The show begins.
And it works.
At some point I realised, with great happiness, that everyone was carrying out their role exactly as planned. There were no mishaps and hardly any need for improvisation.
The Moment of the Medal
Then came the moment I had personally been looking forward to the most.
I had commissioned a medal for Tarek, which I formally presented to him at the end of the presentation.
Later, guests told me that this had been a particularly special moment because they could feel that the words spoken were genuine.
And perhaps that best describes the entire evening.
An Evening That Was Real
The evening was perfect—supported by people who genuinely wanted to be there and by an energy that cannot be artificially created.
The presentation of the medal to Tarek was deliberately staged as the central moment of the evening.
And that was the feeling throughout the entire event.
It was real.
Filled with positive energy, cheerful people, mutual support, togetherness, and hope.
Looking Ahead
For a brief moment, there were no problems—only one great, uplifting feeling.
Dabuka is turning 30 years old, and we look forward to everything that still lies ahead, even knowing that the road will not always be easy.
