Salonaz Sami examines the effect of a psychopath on one of Cairo's more aloof districts Cairo's suburb of Maadi has always been blessed with quiet, but over the last few weeks its peace was shattered. Taking advantage of its many dark, calm streets, a criminal has been hitting female victims with a sharp object and running, whether on foot or by motorbike; his motives are unknown; he has yet to be caught. Referred to as a saffah (serial killer), the police insist that none of his victims were actually killed. "It is well known of Egyptians that they exaggerate and have great skill with spreading rumours," Amina Shata, 85, who has spent her entire life in Maadi and is a proud "Maadite", as it were, retorts in anger. "Whether there is a serial killer or not, nothing has changed. I think it would take far more than a psychopath to disturb the tranquility and peacefulness of my suburb." Maadi denotes ferry boats and its name dates back to the late 19th century when that point was a principal crossing of the Nile. The actual suburb, among Cairo's most distinguished neighbourhoods, was not born until 1904, when the railway first connected Cairo to Helwan, an area best known for dryness as a spa, particularly for patients of tuberculosis. In 1905, the neighborhood, an exclusive, leafy and quiet residence for the British and some well-off Egyptians, was built so that all the main streets radiated out from the railway station square and led to green roundabouts; the roads were all either parallel or perpendicular to the station. Walking down the streets of Maadi, today, you will notice that the number of foreigners might even exceed Egyptians. "It is like a bouquet of nationalities all in the same place," said Shata. "And everyone blends in just fine." Foreigners find it more pleasant than other districts, and it has everything one might need, from shopping malls to fast-food restaurants, foreign-language bookshops and the once British- run Maadi Sporting Club, founded in 1921. It also boasts some of the country's finest schools, including the Cairo American College and the French School, both run by their respective countries away from any Ministry of Education control. According to resident Amin El-Banna, 28, indeed, "Maadi is a small town inside the big city. Everybody knows everybody else." Unlike any other neighbourhood in Cairo, as Shata puts it, "Maadi is distinguished not only by its geographical isolation from the rest of Cairo, bordered by the Degla desert on one side and the River Nile on the other, but by a significant style and overwhelming greenery dominating its streets." Residents like Shata by and large refuse to concede the possibility of systematic crime, preferring not to buy into the hysteria sweeping the media. Yet speculation has exploded to incredible proportions; stories spread, and change. Typically of Maadi residents, however, Shaimaa El-Ezaby, 27, dismisses the whole issue: "When I got an e-mail from my Egyptian friend in Canada warning me about the saffah I couldn't help but laugh." On the other hand, El-Banna argued that outsiders don't understand the neighborhood: "The tiny streets and alleys that separate the community of Maadi from the limited-income neighbours in the areas of Basateen, Arab Al-Maadi and Sakr Quoreish are where the attacks took place." El-Banna believes there is nothing new about crime in the areas that have mushroomed around the quiet suburb: "Everyday we hear about a theft or a break-in in those areas, but not in Maadi." And no doubt, as El-Ezaby insists, the rumours have had a part to play: "It is true in many ways that the spread of rumours has magnified the threat of the attacker. A cab driver went as far as telling my younger sister that the saffah has attacked 35 women, out of which five are dead. Another driver told her that the man killed 17 women..." For his part resident Walid Darwish, 32, a Cairo University lecturer, compares the current panic to a rumour that spread five years ago about a serial killer targeting women which had no basis in fact; the authorities eventually arrested the person responsible for spreading the rumour: "A couple of days ago it was said that a woman living on Road 77 was stabbed by the saffah ; the road's own residents dismissed the incident as a rumor the next day." Darwish wondered why people should panic while nothing was as yet clear: "Lots of questions still need to be answered: Is it a one-man show? Does he attack on a motorbike or on foot? Was he masked or not? And if he had been masked when he attacked his victims, how were they able to give a description of his face?" El-Ezaby recalled how while she was in the street, she saw a car with a sticker on its back wind shield that says " saffah el - Maadi" or (the Maadi serial killer). "It was funny; one of my friends even walked up to the driver and asked for his autograph as a joke. This is how we see the whole serial killer thing." Still, for other residents, especially younger women who work late, the attacks are no joke. "The situation is nerve- racking especially for families with daughters," said Sahar Mohamed, a resident who owns an atelier two blocks away from her house on of Maadi's quietest, dark streets. Mohamed explained that ever since the attacks, her lifestyle has changed: "I no longer allow my 16-year-old daughter to go out alone. Her father and I drive her everywhere, even to school. The same goes for me." Mohamed described the situation her family is living as an obligatory curfew. Her fear grew after what happened with the last victim. "He attacked the woman in her house," she says. "Nobody knows what to expect now..." Mohamed's business, which depends on females, mostly residents of Maadi, has also suffered: "Few customers now come at night, in fear of being attacked; it is really upsetting for all of us." She further explained that it adds to the gravity of the situation that the police are not giving out any information: "We notice some under-cover police roaming the streets every now and then, but still we need to have more accurate information to feel safe." Ibrahim Mahmoud, who works in a library in Degla, agreed: "The relationship we have with our customers is special so when one of my female customers canceled an appointment today to photocopy some material, I called her to check on her. She explained that she preferred to stay at home given the circumstances. She laughed and told me she was scared of the serial killer but I was able to tell from her voice that she really was concerned." The Maadi stabber story is the second incident that disturbed the suburb, grabbing the attention of people and media alike, in the last few years. The first occurred in 2004, when false allegations were made by some parents that their children were sexually molested while in a day-care nursery. The case was later dismissed as untrue. But the arrest of the attacker aside, residents are concerned about the lifestyle of the suburb. "There are other things that concern us as residents, like what's happening to our neighbourhood," said El-Ezaby, explaining that Cairo's once distinguished suburb was being seriously threatened and its refined character was disappearing. "Beautiful, one of a kind villas were being flattened to make way for concrete buildings." According to Samir Raafat's book, Maadi 1904-1962: Society and History in a Cairo Suburb, unlike anywhere else in Cairo, there were very strict rules for residential development in Maadi, with regard to the size of houses, how much of the property could be occupied by the house and how much had to be left for a garden, as well as the width of the sidewalks. Even window shutters had prescribed colors (red or green). In 1911, Maadi had 32 houses, of which only 29 were occupied. Twenty four years later it had less than 300 houses, yet it remained the least populated neighborhood in Cairo. Nowadays the situation is different: Maadi is home to 157,000 Egyptians and more than 30,000 foreigners. According to Shata, Maadi was once a green heaven on earth with a rural village feeling: "I remember when I was a teenager, me and my friends used to take daily strolls in the quite streets. Each street had its own smell, determined by the kind of flower planted in it. Some streets had roses while others had jasmine, the choices were endless and each day we walked a different street. Thursdays were usually Jasmine streets' days..." The area was also known for its mango and banana trees. "There was hardly a garden that didn't boast at least one old mango tree," Shata exclaimed. No one in his right mind, she added, would have axed a bush, let alone a tree. The community was intact: "It was a place with values." A younger person like El-Ezaby too would like to see the old Maadi back in existence; she dislikes the series of constructions that have surrounded the suburb by the Maadi Corniche on one side and the Autostrade highway on the other, putting an end to its geographical isolation. It was at this point that the era of concrete dawned in Maadi: "It's like each building is competing with the other on which will be the tallest, fattest and ugliest or which will gobble up more of the sidewalk." Still, for many people the suburb remains one of the greenest, most pedestrian-friendly areas in Cairo -- offering a feeling of peacefulness we all seek but few of us can find amid the crowds and pollution. Open your mind MAADI is one of a very few neighbourhoods in Cairo that has a mosque, a church and a synagogue. The Biton Synagogue, built in 1934 by Mery Y Biton, could be seen on Orabi and Road 13 and twice a year the small community of Jews in the suburb attends services in it. Moreover, Maadi's desert outback, once home to the large New Zealand camp during World War II, is also one of two of Egypt's most beautiful and old protectorates. Wadi Degla, which the Environmental Affairs Agency declared a protected area in December 1998, dates back to the Predynastic archaeological period. The Degla protectorate, home to many rare birds and reptiles, is believed to have geological formations dating back to the Eocene age, the time when mammals first roamed the earth, 38 to 55 millions years ago.
