The first known autobiography by an Arab woman offers an intimate portrait of 19th-century Zanzibar, preserving the everyday life, culture and social fabric of a vanished world
History is often told through the stories of wars, treaties and rulers. Yet the true life of a society lies within its homes, streets, celebrations, ways of raising children, everyday customs and human relationships. This is precisely why memoirs remain indispensable sources for historians: they illuminate the spaces where official records fall silent. "Memoirs of an Arabian Princess from Zanzibar" is not merely an autobiography, but a remarkable historical testimony that offers an insider's account of the social, cultural and intellectual world of 19th-century Zanzibar.
Its author, Sayyida Salme bint Said, later known as Emily Ruete, was the daughter of Sultan Said bin Sultan of Zanzibar. Raised in the island's royal palaces, Salme later married the German merchant Rudolph Ruete and spent the remainder of her life in Germany. Written during her years in exile, the memoir was first published in German in 1886 and holds a significant place in both world literature and historiography as the first known autobiography written by an Arab woman.
Yet the book was never intended simply as a recollection of a princess's childhood. Living in Europe, Salme witnessed firsthand the misconceptions Europeans held about Zanzibar and Arab society. She felt a responsibility to explain the world in which she had been born and raised through her own voice. As a result, the memoir can be read not only as a personal life story but also as an attempt to build a dialogue between cultures.
The emotional thread that binds the narrative together is, above all, homesickness. Recalling her arrival in Alexandria after years in Europe, she writes: "When I set foot in this city, with its palm trees and minarets, an indescribable longing overwhelmed me ... No amusement or distraction could ever compare with the quiet pleasure of reading a book about the South, alone and undisturbed."
These lines express not merely nostalgia for a homeland but the profound sense of loss that comes from being separated from the world to which one belongs. This longing permeates the memoir, lending it an enduring sincerity.
Everyday life in 19th-century Zanzibar
One of the book's greatest strengths is its focus on social life rather than grand political events. Salme guides readers through palace corridors, courtyards, kitchens, Eid celebrations and childhood games. In doing so, history begins to unfold not through the decisions of rulers but through the lives ordinary people led.
Her description of Eid al-Fitr offers a vivid example: "At last the feast day has arrived. By four o'clock in the morning everyone is already dressed in festive clothes ... Filled with deep religious devotion, all give thanks to the Almighty, Creator and Ruler of all things, both for His blessings and for the trials He has bestowed."
Equally compelling are her detailed portrayals of place. Beit el-Mtoni, Beit el-Sahel, Beit el-Tani and Bububu are presented not merely as architectural landmarks but as living spaces animated by the people who inhabited them. Describing the palace where she spent her childhood, Salme casually remarks: "I can safely say that around a thousand people lived at Beit el-Mtoni."
This single observation reveals the extraordinary scale of the Zanzibari court. The palace was far more than the residence of the ruling family; it functioned as a bustling community inhabited by relatives, servants and countless attendants.
Thanks to Salme's recollections, places that have since disappeared or been transformed come alive once more. Visitors to Zanzibar today encounter only palace ruins or buildings converted into museums. To understand these spaces as vibrant centers of daily life, however, one must turn to Salme's memoir. Her writing restores human stories to structures that might otherwise remain little more than stone and walls.
Culture, diversity, political debate
The memoir also captures Zanzibar's multicultural character with remarkable naturalness. Rather than offering theoretical reflections, Salme reveals this diversity through the details of everyday life. Describing the palace kitchens, she notes: "Meals were prepared not only according to Arab methods but also following Persian and Turkish culinary traditions."
This brief observation speaks volumes about the cultural connections linking Zanzibar with Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, Persia and Anatolia. Throughout the memoir, such details reinforce the island's role not only as a political center but also as a vibrant crossroads of civilizations.
The book also introduces readers to some of the major political debates of its era, particularly the abolition of slavery. Salme explains how many people in Zanzibar perceived European campaigns against the slave trade. In her view, many Arabs believed these efforts were motivated not solely by humanitarian concerns but also by political ambitions to weaken Muslim societies.
She writes: "No one should be surprised that the Arabs distrust Europeans so profoundly, for they believe that Europeans seek to abolish slavery in order to destroy them and weaken Islam."
She goes on to argue that ending slavery could only succeed through gradual reform that took into account the economic and social realities of society. She also criticizes the construction of a church in the middle of the former slave market, describing it as an intervention that ignored local social and religious sensitivities. This section is particularly striking because it reveals not simply historical events but how those events were understood by contemporary Zanzibaris themselves.
Unique contribution to history
Another quality that distinguishes the memoir is its distinctly female perspective. Much of what we know about 19th-century East Africa comes from European travellers, missionaries and colonial officials. In contrast, accounts written by women who grew up within these societies remain exceptionally rare. Salme opens an entirely different window onto history through her observations on women's education, family life, child-rearing and everyday domestic practices.
Her prose is equally compelling. She writes neither with the detached language of a professional historian nor with unchecked sentimentality. Instead, she is a perceptive observer with a keen eye for detail, capable of conveying her experiences in clear, elegant prose. As a result, the memoir appeals not only to historians but also to readers of literature.
Its publication in Turkish is therefore a significant milestone. Despite the passage of nearly 140 years since its first edition, the memoir had never before been translated into Turkish. Yet it serves as a valuable primary source not only for scholars of East African history, the Indian Ocean world and the social history of Islam, but also for general readers seeking an authentic perspective on Africa. The Turkish edition has been enriched with editorial notes and annotations that clarify historical figures, places and concepts, making the text more accessible to modern readers while filling a long-standing gap in Turkish scholarship on African history.
Ultimately, "Memoirs of an Arabian Princess from Zanzibar" is far more than the recollections of a royal childhood. It preserves the memory of a vanished world, offering an intimate portrait of 19th-century Zanzibar through its palaces, streets, festivals, social life and human relationships. Through Sayyida Salme's voice, readers encounter not only the story of one woman's youth but also the cultural heritage of an entire era. Now available in Turkish for the first time, the memoir introduces readers to Zanzibar's rich historical and cultural landscape while reminding us that history is written not only through great events, but also through the everyday lives of ordinary people.