Women rappers were not really a feature of Tunisia’s typically masculine and chauvinist hip-hop scene until the revolution that overthrew Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali in 2011.
Now there are several politically conscious female voices rising in the rap scene. Gender studies scholar Jyhene Kebsi has published a research paper on how their lyrics highlight the multiple inequalities that women in Tunisia – and the world – must overcome.
How have male Tunisian rappers generally treated women in their songs and videos?
The gender politics of Tunisian men’s rap is complex, but we can talk about one of its tendencies. Although there are men who’ve supported their female colleagues and collaborated with them on songs, their portrayals tend to lump women into one of two groups: virtuous or promiscuous; madonnas or whores.
This is clear in their use of obscene words that aim to degrade the “fallen” women they rap about. Their sexual references can be seen as a way to debase the “easy girls and immoral women” who challenge patriarchal norms.
This is in sharp contrast to the love and indebtedness they express towards their mothers and sisters. In contrast to western rap, the mother figure is central in Tunisian rap.
The sacredness of the mother in Tunisian Muslim culture is seen in songs full of gratitude towards those who brought them into the world.
Their reliance on this male-centred division between “respectable” and “unrespectable” women spreads a toxic masculinity that supports harmful gender stereotypes.
This strengthens men’s social dominance and their policing of women’s bodies. Having said that, it is very important to highlight that sexism is not limited to the Arab rap scene. As I explain in my paper, many western male rappers objectify, humiliate and degrade women in their songs too.
Who are the four female rappers you discuss?
The four Tunisian women rappers I analyse are Sabrina, Medusa, Queen Nesrine and Tuny Girl.
There’s a common perception that Medusa was Tunisia’s first female rapper. In reality, Sabrina began performing rap in 2007 and Tunisia’s other female artists joined the rap scene after the 2011 revolution.
Medusa is Tunisia’s most famous female rapper in the west – her migration to France boosted her international profile. Although Tuny Girl and Queen Nesrine have not gained the fame of Medusa or Sabrina, they’ve released powerful feminist songs that criticise the status quo in post-revolutionary Tunisia. [embedded content]
These artists have mainly relied on digital media to share their songs with the public through social platforms like YouTube and Facebook. Unfortunately, all four of them have faced opposition because they’re women.
Rap is considered a masculine musical genre. Tunisian women’s initial entry into this male-dominated world was not easily accepted. Attitudes towards female rappers have evolved thanks to women’s gradual success in attracting a larger fan base.
But these four artists share a strong resistance to sexism. Most importantly, while being aware of patriarchal pressures, they’re conscious of the many different forms of oppression that intersect to keep women less equal than men.
This is evident in their songs, which reflect a strong awareness of intersectionality.
What is intersesectionality?
The black US feminist Kimberle Crenshaw coined the term “intersectionality” in 1989 to describe the double discrimination of sexism and racism faced by black women. So, she used the term to discuss the multiple forms of inequality that compound themselves and create interlocking obstacles that shape black women’s experiences of discrimination. [embedded content]
Intersectionality highlights the experiences of multiple forms of discrimination when these categories of social identity interact with and shape one another.
We see an understanding of intersectionality in a song like Hold On, where Medusa raps about illiteracy, political struggle and motherhood:
I am watching the floating misery / Illiteracy has spread and made us go from one extreme to the other / Where is the freedom for which activists struggled? / I am the free Tunisian who exposed their chest to bullets / I am the mother, the mother of the martyr who has not gotten his revenge.
Or, in her song Arahdli, Sabrina raps about a range of social ills:
Leave me alone / The police catch you and harm you / Don’t believe the corrupt state / Unemployment and poverty will not make you happy.
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I found that what Medusa, Sabrina, Queen Nesrine and Tuny Girl have in common is their rejection of, as Crenshaw puts it, the “single-axis framework”. The one-sided narrative that reduces women’s problems solely to men and patriarchy.
Instead, these artists highlight the damaging impact – for women – of the intersection of gender inequality, political corruption, unjust laws, ineffective local policies, the collapse of Tunisia’s economy and the country’s weak position in the global geopolitical landscape.
Their songs are united in their recognition that Tunisian women’s lives are shaped by all these overlapping power structures, exposing them to marginalisation and discrimination. [embedded content]
So, their songs identify hidden, interrelated structural barriers to their freedom. Misogyny is just one element that needs to be considered alongside other local and global issues when we discuss gender politics in Tunisia.
What other new trends are female rappers ushering in?
Women are at the forefront of innovation in Tunisian rap. Take Lully Snake. She’s a Tunisian-Algerian rapper based in Tunisia. This 24-year-old artist was previously a breakdancer. Her passion for hip-hop culture and her love for US artists like Tupac, Kool G Rap, Queen Latifah and Foxy Brown led her to start rapping.
Like all Tunisian women rappers, she considers her entry into rap to have been a long and difficult journey. Starting in 2019, her first song was only released in 2024. [embedded content]
Lully Snake first uploaded her debut song Zabatna Kida on Instagram. Its uniqueness lies in its combination of rap and mahraganat, an Egyptian street music that emerged in Cairo’s ghettos. Its success encouraged her to carry on rapping in both Tunisian and Egyptian, alongside other western languages and Maghrebi dialects.
Lully Snake’s experimentation proves that female rappers are innovating while spreading messages that empower women. This has ultimately enriched Tunisian rap.
Jyhene Kebsi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
By Jyhene Kebsi, Director of Learning & Teaching (Gender Studies), Macquarie University
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