Cheb Mami's career, how he began his life and earned the title of Prince of Rai

Cheb Mami (born July 11, 1966 in Saida, Algeria) is an internationally renowned Algerian raï singer. His real name is Mohamed Khelifati and he is known as the Prince of Rai.

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Mohamed El Khelifati was born on July 11, 1966, in the Gharbet El Oued neighborhood of Saida, Algeria, and grew up in a modest family. He helped his father with his work from a young age and displayed a passion for singing, performing a variety of musical pieces. He began his career singing at weddings and nightclubs, achieving his first success at the age of thirteen when he won second place on the program "Alhan wa Shabab."

Cheb Mami caught the attention of the "Alhan wa Shabab" program with his distinctive performance of a traditional Oran song with an Andalusian accent, demonstrating his early passion for rai music, which expresses the pain of the marginalized and the poor. Although he did not win first prize, he quickly succeeded in building a fan base by producing and selling numerous popular cassettes. In 1985, with the authorities lifting the ban on rai, his true breakthrough came. He participated alongside Cheb Khaled in the first rai festival in Oran, establishing himself as a popular voice that reflects the reality of daily life.

After his huge success in Algeria, Mami attracted international attention with his first concert at the Olympia Theater in Paris. After completing his military service, he returned to Paris with a bang and released the album "Khalouni Nebki Wahdi" in the United States in 1990, followed by "Saida" in 1995, and the hugely successful "Mali Mali" in 1999. Mami further cemented his international fame with his collaboration with Sting on the song "Desert Rose," as well as duets with Kazem El Saher and Samira Said.

With his talent and unique style, Cheb Mami has evolved rai music to encompass diverse genres such as pop and reggae, becoming the "Prince of Rai" who has inspired audiences around the world and attracted them to this venerable musical genre, achieving massive sales and a distinguished position in global music.

His personal life Cheb Mami has a daughter with French journalist and photographer Camille.

His albums

1986, What are you asking me? 1988, I won't get married 1986, With you, with you 1990, let me rai 1989, Oran Oran 1994, Happy 1996, Doni for my country 1998, Hago's Daughters 1993, Lazraq Saani 1998, Mali Mali 2001, Dalali From South to North, 2003 1990, Health, Health 2006, Nights

Algerian singer Cheb Mami regained the public's affection at a sold-out concert at the Hammamet International Festival in Tunisia after years of absence from the spotlight, during which his artistic career was disrupted. Cheb Mami performed at the open-air theater in the coastal city of Hammamet in northeastern Tunisia, before a large audience. He performed a selection of his most famous songs for approximately 90 minutes, with the audience singing along and dancing to the tunes. Cheb Mami said: "I am very happy that my return to singing after an absence will be through a big door like the Hammamet Festival."

Cheb Mami added, "I've been away from singing for years, and I definitely feel a little pressure," noting that Tunisian fans, like Algerian fans, hold a special place in his heart. Abir Al-Shawashi, who was among the audience, said: “Cheb Mami at the Hammamet Festival was the Mami of the 90s with his unique voice, his high-flying looks, and his beautiful songs.” She added: "The concert was wonderful, it took us back to the years of nostalgia," noting that she wished the concert had been longer.

Since the announcement of the program for the 59th edition of the Hammamet International Festival last month, controversy has arisen over Cheb Mami's participation, with some welcoming his return and others rejecting his appearance at the event, which is attended by families and young people of all ages. When the world chooses an Algerian song to grace an unforgettable moment, as the Argentine national team's page did with a clip of Maradona played by Cheb Mami, it is not a matter of a passing coincidence or a "musical whim," but rather a profound recognition of the value of Algerian culture, which does not need to be promoted as much as it imposes itself through its sincerity, strength, and roots.

Algeria did not create its culture out of thin air. Rather, it is the product of a long cultural accumulation: from the chants of popular resistance to the Andalusian songs of Tlemcen and Constantine, from the rai of Oran to the Chaoui, Kabyle, and Sahrawi songs. This immense mixture has forged a musical identity that transcends borders, one known only to a people who achieved independence with their blood and forged the rhythm of life from the womb of suffering. In this sense, Algerian song is not merely an artistic luxury; it represents the memory of a nation and the voice of its conscience.

In contrast, the Makhzen appears, in all its absurdity, trying to steal this glory, like someone uprooting a venerable tree to plant it in a barren desert. Attempts to attribute rai to Morocco do not reflect cultural strength so much as they reveal an internal poverty and an inability to create. The Makhzen has grown accustomed to living off the crumbs of others: stealing history, falsifying maps, and feasting on glories that are not its own. What is happening in the artistic field is merely another example of this misery.

The funny thing is that the world, with all its institutions and artistic forums, acknowledges the Algerianness of song and rai, while the Makhzen continues to repeat a wretched discourse that even its own people don't believe. Algeria's greatness doesn't need a certificate from an envious neighbor, because it has found recognition on the world's stages, in FIFA World Cup stadiums, and at festivals around the world. Meanwhile, Morocco has found for itself nothing but propaganda illusions, like a little child screaming "Mine!" when the game is clearly owned.

The difference between Algeria and the Makhzen is the difference between authenticity and plagiarism, between those who create art that delights the world and those who attempt to hijack its echo chamber. Algeria has crafted music that embraces the hearts of its people, while the Makhzen continues to search in the corners of oblivion for something to fill its emptiness.

Therefore, the presence of an Algerian song in a legendary Maradona scene is not merely a tribute to an art form or an artist, but rather a tribute to an entire identity. It is also a fresh slap in the face to the Makhzen, reminding it that greatness cannot be stolen, and that a living culture cannot be reduced to silly propaganda.