The Hakawati: A Guide to Gulf Storytelling Traditions

Long before televisions and smartphones, the most eagerly awaited moment in a Gulf evening was the arrival of the storyteller. Known as the hakawati, this master of words would settle into the majlis or sit by a desert fire, and for an hour or more, hold the room spellbound with tales of heroes, tricksters and faraway lands. Today, the hakawati tradition still survives, adapted to modern settings but carrying the same warmth and wisdom.

The role of the hakawati

In pre-modern Gulf societies, the hakawati was far more than an entertainer. This figure served as a keeper of oral history, a teacher of ethics and a preserver of community memory. Through repetition and embellishment, the storyteller passed down genealogies, tribal victories, moral lessons and religious parables. Performances were interactive: listeners might echo key phrases, laugh at familiar jokes or ask for a favourite tale to be retold.

A skilled hakawati used voice, gesture and silence to build suspense. The story of a Bedouin hero's long journey through the empty quarter could stretch over several nights, each session ending on a cliffhanger that guaranteed a full majlis the following evening. The best storytellers were respected members of the community, sometimes travelling from town to town, welcomed wherever they went.

Popular tales and themes

The repertoire of the Gulf hakawati drew from a rich regional and Islamic storytelling heritage. Common genres included:

• Animal fables, often borrowed from the Arabic classic Kalila wa Dimna, which taught wisdom through the adventures of clever jackals, loyal lions and cunning crows.
• Heroic epics, such as the tales of Antarah ibn Shaddad, the pre-Islamic warrior-poet whose courage and love for Abla became a symbol of Bedouin chivalry.
• Humorous anecdotes featuring Juha (also known as Goha), the beloved folk character whose foolish yet profound actions poke gentle fun at human vanity and greed.
• Sea narratives, recounting pearl diving expeditions, encounters with sea monsters, and the longing of sailors for their home ports.

Underlying most tales were the core values of Gulf society: generosity, hospitality, honour, patience and respect for elders. Stories were not merely amusement; they were vehicles for passing these values to the next generation.

Where storytelling happens today

Although the fireside setting is rarer now, the hakawati tradition has found new platforms. Heritage festivals across the Gulf regularly feature storytelling performances, often in reconstructed desert camps or traditional houses. Museums and cultural centres in cities such as Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Doha and Riyadh include oral storytelling as part of their educational programmes for children and families.

During Ramadan, storytelling sessions are common in majlis gatherings after iftar, with elders sharing tales from their youth or reciting classic folktales. Some contemporary artists and educators blend traditional oral style with theatre, podcasts and social media, ensuring that the old stories reach young ears in new ways. In schools, storytelling is used to teach Arabic language, local history and moral education.

Why the hakawati still matters

In an age of instant digital content, the slow, communal act of listening to a story told in person retains a special power. The hakawati creates a shared experience, a moment when the audience breathes together, laughs together and learns together. For Gulf communities, this tradition is not a relic but a living bridge between past and present, reminding each generation of the values, humour and imagination that shaped their culture.

Visitors to the region can experience this heritage at cultural festivals or by simply sitting in a majlis and listening. The stories may be ancient, but their appeal is timeless.