The conversation around celebrity privacy opened up again, and this time in the most painful way. As actress Somaya El Alfey was laid to rest, her son, actor Ahmed El Fishawy, stood in visible grief. Instead of space, silence, or basic respect, he faced cameras, phones, and people treating the funeral like a public spectacle. His comment about the scene feeling like a “red carpet” was not sarcasm for attention. It was exhaustion speaking, and this raises a necessary question.
When did grief become content?
Funerals are not events. They are moments of loss, shock, and emotional collapse. And yet, every time a public figure passes away, the same scene repeats itself. Cameras pushed closer. Faces zoomed in, tears documented as if pain needs proof to be real, and becomes some kind of content.
The press has an essential role, and journalism matters. Telling stories, documenting history, and informing the public are all necessary, but when coverage crosses into intrusion, it loses its essential meaning and becomes something else. There is a difference between reporting a death and dissecting a family’s grief in real time.
What happened at Somaya El Alfey’s funeral was not about news value. It was about access, about treating a moment of mourning as a visual opportunity, and about forgetting that celebrities do not stop being human when the cameras turn on.
Grief is not owed to the public, and wanting privacy in moments of loss is not arrogance. Ahmed El Fishawy’s reaction was not only understandable, but it was also completely valid. Anyone in his place would have felt the same pressure, the same anger, the same need to push back.
If journalism is rooted in ethics, then this is where the line must be drawn because some moments need to be respected and remain untouched. Do you agree?
