Some daughters inherit a legacy. Others decide to carry its weight, reshape it, and breathe new life into it. To many, Sham Al Zahabi is the daughter of one of the most iconic and soul-stirring voices in the Arab world, Assala Nasri, the Syrian songbird whose music has long soundtracked heartbreaks, revolutions, and lives across generations. But to reduce Al Zahabi’s story to that lineage would be to miss the quiet, deliberate, and deeply personal journey she has carved for herself, not as a singer, not as a star, but as a scientist, a business owner, and a woman who is always eager to write her legacy. In a rare and intimate conversation, Enigma’s Farida Elserty sat down with Sham Al Zahabi to delve into her relationship with her mother, her identity, and the beautiful, often messy journey of becoming her true self.
Before I ever began writing this story, I spent days speaking with Sham Al Zahabi. We didn’t just talk, we chatted, exchanged thoughts, shared stories, paused, laughed, and circled back again. Somewhere in the middle of it all, she softly told me, “Farida, you really have to love me to write this interview.”
The truth is: I always did.
I’ve long admired her strength, her softness, her steady pursuit of purpose. There’s something magnetic about the way she’s carved her voice in a world that expected her to copy someone else’s. And there’s something deeply moving about how she continues to show up for women, for wellness, and most powerfully, for herself.
We didn’t speak in soundbites. Actually, there were no rehearsed answers, no polished punchlines. Instead, Al Zahabi offered something rarer: openness. As we spoke, she reflected not just on where she had been, but on what she had become, not despite her past, but because of it.
“Home, to me, is no longer just a location,” she told me. “It’s a feeling. It’s where I find peace, where I can breathe without explaining myself, where my daughter’s laughter echoes. Sometimes that’s in a city, sometimes in a conversation. I’ve learned that home is where your truth feels safe.”
It’s a beautiful sentiment, especially from someone whose earliest notions of home were constantly shifting, from Damascus to Dubai, Switzerland to Cairo. But Egypt, she says, is where something clicked. Not just as a place, but as a rhythm. “Egypt has a unique energy; it’s raw, alive, and unapologetically real. It doesn’t just challenge you; it reshapes you,” she explains. “Living here made me confront parts of myself I didn’t know existed. These parts are tough, resilient, and visionary.”
It’s also where she discovered that identity doesn’t have to come with a label… or a limit. “I used to feel torn; am I Syrian, Arab, a chemist, a public figure’s daughter?” she says. “Egypt permitted me to be all of them at once. It showed me that heritage isn’t about fitting into one mould; it’s about owning your many layers and still feeling whole.”
And those layers run deep. From her mother’s legendary voice to her own quiet, calculated rise in the world of skincare and science, Al Zahabi’s narrative is shaped by emotions, expressions, and this fierce kind of grace. “Honesty, even when it’s uncomfortable. That’s something we carry in our family,” she says softly. “We don’t pretend; we talk, we cry, we confront, we forgive. Also, resilience. There’s a quiet strength that runs through our story, and I carry it with me, whether I’m leading a brand, mothering my daughter, or just healing quietly.”
“I was born of her voice,” Al Zahabi says gently, “but everything I am now… I built with my own hands.” And it shows.
It’s not easy growing up in the gaze of a thousand eyes, with your childhood tethered to stages and spotlights. While other children worried about school grades or sleepovers, Al Zahabi navigated life with a famous last name and the expectations that came with it. She moved countries, changed schools, learned to adapt, to blend in, to stand out. From Damascus to Dubai, Switzerland to Cairo, she lived many lives before even turning eighteen. And in each city, she carried fragments of identity that didn’t always add up until she stopped trying to fit in and instead began to build her formula.
That formula? A rare fusion of emotion and intellect, beauty and science, heritage and innovation. Today, Al Zahabi is the founder of DAO Derma, one of Egypt’s most respected skin clinics, where cutting-edge science meets personalised care in a space she dreamed into being. It’s not just about glowing skin, but it’s about safety, healing, identity, and reclamation. It’s about building something from the ground up in a world that expected her to inherit, not create.
However, this isn’t just a business profile. It’s a layered portrait of a woman who paused a Master’s at Oxford to honour a promise to her mother. A woman who swapped chemistry for piano before eventually circling back to molecules, and found, in science, a form of poetry that felt like home. Because what do you do when you are the daughter of a voice that shaped nations? If you’re Al Zahabi, you find your own voice, not copy the one that raised you; instead, you sing a new, quieter kind of your truth.
That evolution is far from over. Al Zahabi is entering what she calls “a chapter of clarity.” And it’s quite apparent. “I’m launching my skincare brand; not just as a business, but as a message that science and soul can coexist,” she shares. “I’m also working on a reality show that tells the raw, unedited version of my journey. And at the same time, I’m learning to slow down — to be there for my daughter, with intention, not just presence.”
Yet even as she grows in science, her roots in creativity remain there. “Absolutely,” she answers when asked whether she ever thinks about combining wellness with her family’s artistic DNA. “I’m constantly dreaming about creating a space where science, beauty, and emotion live together. A wellness concept that feels like a sanctuary, maybe one where music plays softly in the background, and healing happens on every level: skin, soul, self. I think my journey has always been a quiet symphony of those elements.”
That symphony has reshaped her definition of success entirely. “For me, success used to be about achievement, recognition, proving myself. Now, it’s about peace,” Al Zahabi reflects. “It’s when I can go to sleep knowing I was honest, that I helped someone, that I stayed true to who I am. Quiet impact matters to me more than loud approval.”
So what would she tell her future self—five years down the line? Her answer, like much of what she says, is full of intention. “I’d want to hear: You did it — and you didn’t lose yourself along the way,” she says. “By then, I hope I’ve built a brand that resonates with people not just on their skin, but in their hearts. I hope my daughter looks at me and sees a woman who was brave enough to choose both softness and strength. And I hope I’ve stayed curious by still learning, still loving, still becoming.”
Because for Al Zahabi, becoming has never been a straight path, but rather, a series of pivots, pauses, and possibilities. “Growing up in a family where emotion was a language and expression was survival gave me a deep sensitivity to the world,” she says. “But it also made me crave structure to make sense of chaos. That’s where science came in for me. While the world saw performances and headlines, I was quietly drawn to molecules, to healing, to truth. My upbringing gave me the emotional depth I needed to connect with people, but also the need to find a grounded space where I could become my own person, not just a reflection of a famous name.”
In that space, she’s found something more powerful than legacy — she’s found selfhood. Al Zahabi’s path might seem unexpected to some, grounded in science and skincare, far from the stage lights that defined her upbringing, but to her, it was always intuitive. “Science was my escape and my safe place,” she tells me with a smile. “It gave me answers when life felt too loud, too unpredictable. I chose wellness and healing because I’ve seen firsthand what it’s like to fall apart, and what it takes to rebuild. I believe that beauty and health are deeply connected to how we feel inside. I’m drawn to helping people not just look better, but feel safer in their skin, feel heard, feel whole.”
It’s a mission that hasn’t come without its trials. Recently, DAO Derma faced public controversy, the kind that quickly becomes a spectacle in today’s social media. For Al Zahabi, it wasn’t just a professional issue; it was a deeply personal reckoning. “It was one of the hardest moments of my life, not just professionally, but emotionally,” she admits. “Being misunderstood in such a public way is painful. But I had two choices: to shrink or to stand for myself. I chose to face it head-on, to learn from it, and to transform the narrative. It taught me that resilience isn’t about being unaffected, but it is about being willing to be seen, even when you’re at your most vulnerable.”
But she wasn’t going through it alone. With her, and within her, was the steady presence that had always helped her stay grounded: family. “My mum was my anchor,” Al Zahabi says. “She knows exactly what it means to stand in the middle of chaos and stay calm.” In the hardest moments, it was her mother who reminded her to carry herself with grace, to speak only when it mattered, and to let time do its work. “She never panicked, and she always led with quiet strength.”
Her brothers, too, were by her side. “They were my shield,” she says. “We didn’t come out of that time stronger because it was easy. We came out stronger because we stuck together.” That support gave her something solid to hold onto, something that helped her keep going with a clearer mind and a steadier heart. “It made all the difference, just knowing they were there.”
Yet, when your name is synonymous with legacy, there’s always an unspoken pressure, one Al Zahabi has learned to navigate with nuance. “There are days when the weight of the name feels like a shadow,” she confesses. “But more often, it’s become a source of strength. I carry the name with pride, but I also carry my vision. I don’t want to live up to it. Instead, I want to live through it, and beyond it, in my way.”
But the experience of public scrutiny didn’t just test Al Zahabi’s strength — it redefined her sense of direction. “It’s made everything sharper,” she tells me. “I’m more intentional now — not just about the business, but about the mission.” That mission has evolved into something deeper and more personal, materialising in her upcoming skincare line, Atem. “It merges my scientific background with ancient Middle Eastern ingredients,” she explains.
Motherhood, too, brought about a profound internal shift, one that redefined her sense of identity and purpose. “Motherhood grounded me in ways nothing else could,” she shares, her voice tinged with quiet conviction. “It changed my outlook entirely, from chasing perfection and ticking boxes to embracing purpose and presence.” For someone who had always carried big dreams and even bigger responsibilities, becoming a mother became the mirror that reflected her truest self. “It taught me how to be soft without being weak, how to practise patience without losing my voice, and how to love with a depth I didn’t know existed.” The journey, she says, has been both humbling and empowering. “It gave me the strength to face anything with more grace and a clearer sense of what truly matters. In many ways, it sharpened my focus, expanded my empathy, and fuelled my commitment to build something meaningful, not just for myself, but for my child, for my family, and for every woman who looks at my story and sees a reflection of her own.”
That same strength guided her as she opened the second branch of DAO clinic in Qatar. “After everything that happened in Egypt, opening the second DAO branch in Qatar was a personal and professional milestone,” she reflects. “It was never about proving anyone wrong—it was about proving to myself that I could rise again, with clarity and purpose. The journey wasn’t easy, but it was full of lessons. I built DAO Qatar with conviction, rooted in everything DAO stands for: light, healing, and excellence. But, for me, it’s also a symbol of moving forward, not with bitterness, but with wisdom and intention.”
But her ambition doesn’t stop there. True to her nature, Al Zahabi is expanding the conversation beyond skin. “I’m also creating a reality show that brings authenticity to the forefront just to show the beauty and the breakdown,” she shares. “I see my role now as more than a founder; I’m a storyteller, a truth-teller, and a woman redefining what leadership looks like in this industry.”
Much of that clarity, she says, came from her time living in Egypt, a country that pushed her beyond her comfort zone and shaped her in ways no textbook or lab could ever replicate. “Egypt forced me to grow up,” Al Zahabi admits, reflecting on the transformative chapter of her life. “It’s a country that doesn’t hand you anything. Instead, you earn your place here, inch by inch.” She describes it as a place of paradoxes, where chaos and beauty coexist, and where challenges can either break you or mould you into something stronger. “It tested my patience, resilience, and self-belief every single day. I had to navigate things I never thought I could handle, but through it all, I discovered strength I didn’t know I had.” And yet, despite the hardships, Egypt gave her more than she expected. “It gave me community, meaning, and a sense of belonging. It gave me the space and the fire to build something of my own, from the ground up.”
And maybe, just maybe, Sham Al Zahabi was never meant to follow a legacy, but to build something softer, truer, and entirely her own. In every step she’s taken, the quiet ones, the brave ones, the ones no one saw — she’s been piecing together a story that’s not about perfection, but about presence. And as she walks forward, with her heart wide open and her purpose rooted deep, she reminds us that the most powerful legacies aren’t inherited… they’re lived.
location: DAO MEDICAL CENTRE MAMOURA BRANCH