“Remember Me, Will You?” An Ode to Forgotten Maternal Lineages

Sitting on the living room floor with an open suitcase, I watch my mother search through its contents. “What are you looking for?” I ask. “I’m not sure,” she says, “something, but I don’t know what.” Then, her eyes light up as she finds a photo of herself at 20, posed before the iconic Cairo University dome — the same university I attend 30 years later.

She then reveals another unexpected find: her mother’s wedding dress, an elegant mid-length lace gown. “Can you imagine how petite your Teta was? I bet you’d fit in this at your own wedding,” my mother says.

I’m struck by how we often follow in the footsteps of our parents. Despite our desire to carve our own paths, our stories are shaped by those who came before us. We can only truly know ourselves once we understand those who preceded us. Like my mother’s photographs and her mother’s wedding dress, these ornaments preserve stories eager to be heard — stories that morph us into who we are.

My thoughts drift to the title of a book by author and visual artist Melanie Partamian, “Remember Me, Will You?” The fact-based fiction is a work that reflects on maternal lineage through the intertwined histories of four generations of women based in Syria, Greece, Egypt, and France.

The book immerses us into Melanie’s family through her voice, imagination, and memories, weaving together snapshots of each woman’s life. As we follow their journeys, we see the events that shaped Melanie, who currently resides in Cairo, into who she is today. It explores fragile themes such as displacement, miscarriage, loss, single motherhood, survival, and enduring love despite adversity, emphasizing the importance of remembering and understanding the heritage passed down from our mothers.

Melanie’s unique background — Greek, Lebanese, and Syrian on her mother’s side, Armenian on her father’s — sparked a deep interest in researching her family’s history.

“I began to question who my great-grandmother was. Finding out she was Syrian only made me more intrigued. Growing up, I’d heard a lot about her Greek husband, Zacharia, but never much about Kokab, his wife,” Melanie says.

Like many families in the region, the men’s names were often more remembered than the women’s, and their stories took center stage. In her book, Melanie traces a line that starts with her great-grandmother in Syria and ends with her own time in Paris, studying at Université Panthéon-Sorbonne. “Remember Me, Will You?” is an ode to the maternal lineage that is often overlooked.

The book opens with the story of Zacharia, Melanie’s great grandmother’s husband, a harsh and difficult Greek man she heard so much about growing up. “We forget that they are people. In this book, I attempt to humanize my family. This isn’t to excuse their actions but to better understand them,” she explains.

She delves into Zacharia’s challenging life and the struggles he and his mother Anette faced, leading to the decision to flee Greece in the 1910s after the fall of the Ottoman Empire in search of a better life in Egypt.

In chapter two, Melanie takes us back to Syria in the late 1910s during World War I, where her great-grandmother Kokab, just 12 years old, fled alone to Egypt in search of safety. This moment marked the beginning of a new chapter in the family’s history, one that unfolded in Cairo. There, fate brought Kokab and Zacharia together in the same apartment complex. Though Melanie had photos and archival materials documenting these events, she lacked the one thing that could truly bring them to life: a narrative voice to tell Kokab’s story.

“I kept wondering how Kokab’s mother, Gamila, could agree to this. How could she let her daughter face it all alone as a child? But the situation in Syria was severely unstable. She had no other choice,” Melanie shares.

Kokab’s mother felt the weight of that decision when her Armenian neighbor asked, “Have you ever seen a desert bleed?” The words, a haunting reference to the Armenian Genocide and the fall of the Ottoman Empire, made it clear that staying was not an option. She had to let her daughter go so she could survive.

Sitting with Melanie, my curiosity got the better of me, and I asked whether she considered herself more Armenian, Egyptian, or both.

“I don’t know. I definitely feel connected to Egypt and love the land, but I have zero Egyptian blood. It’s complex.” She said.

In chapter four, Melanie opens up about her identity crisis and the depression that followed when she returned to Cairo after completing her master’s in Paris

“I was stuck in that depressive state for a while, but slowly, I started accepting my situation and being less severe on myself. I went to therapy. I got a job that required me to do research, and I loved it…. At that moment, I felt a little bit like myself again, and “The Poseidonians” came to mind.”

From “Remember Me, Will You?” Chapter 4

“The Poseidonians,” a poem by Alexandrian-born Greek poet Constantine P. Cavafy, describes a people who gather once a year for a festival to reconnect with their roots. To Melanie, this festival happens when you open a door in your grandmother’s house, and a familiar scent brings back memories. It’s flipping through a family album, tasting a dish that transports you back to your home city, or even reading her book “Remember Me, Will You?”

In the final chapter, Melanie reflects on her voice and identity, weaving together the stories of the women who came before her with her own. Through this, we understand how their histories shaped her present and what it means to be her after this journey. She proudly declares: She is Melanie, the daughter of Marina, the granddaughter of Calliope, and the great granddaughter of Kokab.

“I am Egyptian, Armenian, and Greek, with Syrian, Lebanese, and Italian roots. My roots are stained with blood, hurt, and violence—enduring massacres by the Ottoman Empire, fleeing home and war, enduring plagues and chaos. It is also about finding strength, love, safety, and happiness in a new world that doesn’t forget the old one, no matter how hard it tries to.”

From “Remember Me, Will You?” Chapter 4

 

I asked Melanie what the starting point for all of this was. “The biggest inspiration for me was undoubtedly the women in my family. In my previous publication, ‘The Last Armenian Family in Baehler,’ I noticed that male voices dominated, so I wanted this book to focus on maternal lineage.”.

What makes the book even more remarkable is the all-women team that brought it to life: Authored and directed by Melanie Partamian, with cover and book design by Fatema Elmaany, illustrations by Noura Maheeb, and Syrian dialect adaptation by Lujain Khairy.

Melanie ends the book with a public note to herself and an open invitation to the reader:

Melanie Partamian (b. 1999) is an Egyptian, Armenian, and Greek visual artist. In her work, Partamian focuses on the relationship between identity, memory, and space due to her having different nationalities and belongings. She participated in several group exhibitions in Egypt, as well as an international installation festival in Armenia.

Additionally, she published “Narratives of the City” on K-oh-llective and a self-published book titled “The Last Egyptian Armenian-Greek Family in Baehler,” and is currently publishing her second book “Remember Me, Will You?”