Under the soft lights of the stage and the sharp focus of the camera, Yara Goubran lives a hundred lives, each one shaped by empathy, curiosity, and an unwavering dedication to her craft. Known for her performances in Lam Shamseya (Elephant in the Room), Zolm El Mastaba (Rural Injustice), and Seeb Wa Ana Aseeb (You Let Go First), Goubran has become a performer who doesn’t simply play her characters, but fully inhabits them. When Enigma’s Reham Adel sat down with her, she spoke with warmth and honesty about her journey, her process, and the lessons she continues to learn along the way.
“I studied theatre at AUC, but I never imagined I’d actually become an actress,” she recalls with a laugh. As a young girl, she dreamed of performing but kept that dream quietly tucked away, too shy to picture herself under the spotlight. “I thought it was something distant, a dream for other people,” she admits. However, once she joined the university’s theatre, the stage quickly became her second home. “From my first semester, I knew this was definitely what I wanted to do.”
From those early beginnings, Goubran’s career has been one of steady progress more about persistence than sudden breakthroughs. She began with small roles: “A line, a word, a passing presence,” as she puts it, in films like Hareem Kareem (Karim’s Ladies), Wahed Sefr (One Zero), 678, and Sa’a Wi Nos (An Hour and a Half). Each appearance, no matter how brief, became a building block in a career founded on quiet resilience rather than luck. Television soon opened new doors, offering her the chance to explore complex, layered characters. “Series work gave me room to grow,” she explains. “It taught me patience and endurance.”
When it comes to her approach, Goubran starts from a place of deep curiosity. “I always begin by asking why and what drives this person? Everything she says or does has a reason. Once I understand her emotions and motives, I can start to feel her.” That empathy is what defines her work. Whether portraying the morally rigid Rania in Zolm El Mastaba or the loyal, fiery Azza in Seeb Wa Ana Aseeb, Goubran searches for the human pulse beneath each role. “You can’t judge your character,” she reflects. “You have to love her, understand her logic even if you don’t agree with her.”
Some roles, she admits, linger long after the cameras stop rolling. Playing Rania, for instance, was particularly demanding. “The dialect was difficult, and she was so different from me, but that’s what made it exciting. You find her emotional logic and make her real.” Her experience on Lam Shamseya was another defining moment. The drama tackled a sensitive and rarely discussed issue, and Goubran recalls how carefully the team approached it. “It was a heavy topic,” she says, “but everyone handled it with such awareness and care. It reminded me that storytelling can genuinely spark change.”
The impact of the series took her by surprise. “The response completely exceeded my expectations,” she says. “It really made an impact in its own way and resonated with people deeply. You can never predict something like that. You just do your best, work sincerely, and hope for the best. The fact that it touched so many people was a beautiful surprise for all of us.”
Moving on to her short film Qafla (Blackout), written and directed by Ahmed El-Zoghbi, Goubran lights up. “It was a very special project, my first time working with Ahmed, who’s a good friend and a brilliant writer.” She smiles as she describes the character: “She’s not a nice person at all. She comes from a very conservative family and suddenly finds herself interacting with people completely different from her world.”
The film’s journey at the Palm Springs International ShortFest has been a source of pride. “It hasn’t been screened in Egypt yet, so I’m still waiting to see how the local audience will react,” she says. “But abroad, from what I heard from Ahmed, the feedback was very positive. It’s such a great feeling when people connect with the work.” Short films, she notes, often face uncertain futures; rarely shown in cinemas, they rely on festivals for visibility. “You never really know where a short film will end up,” she admits. “So having it selected and screened internationally was incredibly rewarding. In the end, you just do your best and leave the rest to fate.”
Goubran speaks of acting not as a pursuit of fame, but as a means of empathy. “Acting teaches you compassion,” she says softly. “You start to see life through so many perspectives. It softens your judgement of people because you understand how complex we all are.”
Away from the camera, Goubran continues to hone her craft through workshops and classes. “It’s like staying fit both emotionally and technically. You have to keep training.” When life gets overwhelming, she finds grounding in the simple things: learning an instrument, picking up a new hobby, or simply taking time to breathe. “In our profession, not everything is in your hands,” she reflects. “So, you have to have other things in your life that inspire you.”
Her message to young artists is one of quiet resilience. “Be patient,” she says. “Things aren’t always as they seem on social media. This career is full of rejection, auditions you don’t get, roles that fall through. But it’s never personal. Everyone goes through it. Just keep learning and keep going.”
As for what’s next, Goubran is preparing for her upcoming series No Return or Exchange, directed by Mariam Abou Ouf, where she stars alongside Dina El Sherbiny, Ahmed El Saadany, and Hassan Malek. “I’m very excited about it,” she says with a gleam of anticipation. “Every project is a new discovery, a new chance to learn.”
For Yara Goubran, acting isn’t just performance, it’s perception. It’s the delicate art of seeing the world through another’s eyes and, in doing so, helping us see ourselves a little more clearly.
Photography: Bilo Hussein
Styling: Halid Farid
Assistant Styling: Nadine Khalifa
Make Up: Ghada Alaa
Hair: Mostafa Hany Gaber
Location: Qasr El Nile Theatere