On October 13, 2025, Noura Jamila Mahouachi passed away. Her name appeared on no masthead, in no column, on no byline. Yet every line published in La Sultane bore her mark. The quiet owner of this magazine since 2014, she built a space where women's intelligence would be honored, where free speech would never be compromised. Her self-effacement was a choice. Only her mission mattered: to create a journalism that could exist without bowing to the powerful. This is the story of a woman who chose oblique light — the kind that illuminates without exposing itself.
2014: A Visionary's Act of Faith
In 2014, when she took over La Sultane, Tunisia was still catching its breath. The country was emerging from a revolution, fear stalked the streets, violence against women was intensifying, and extremist voices were trying to impose their morality on everyone else's silence. Investing in a women's magazine was, at the time, an act of daring. But Noura saw further. She knew that, amid the chaos, islands of freedom had to be preserved — places where thinking differently remained possible.
She handed us the keys. Complete carte blanche.
"Create what's missing," she told us.
No imposed editorial line, no calculated caution, no censorship disguised as compromise. Just one demand: that La Sultane live up to those who read it.
Building a Magazine That Refuses to Reduce
So we built. Slowly, faithfully.
A magazine that refused to reduce women to docile consumers, a space where one could speak of bodies and souls, of entrepreneurship and desire, of politics and ecology, of culture and memory. Because for Noura, being a woman meant embracing the complexity of the world.
The path was not laid out in advance. Certain sectors closed their doors to us, arguing that a "women's outlet" had no place in serious spheres. As if our readers didn't make economic decisions, didn't manage budgets, didn't build futures. But these obstacles never shook Noura's conviction.
The battle she waged was not a commercial one, but a battle of meaning: the belief that a women's magazine could be a place of thought.
Resisting When Everything Collapses
Around us, the press was running out of breath. Outlets were shutting down, crushed by hardship and indifference. We could have given in. Accepted compromises, given up what was uncomfortable, blended into the crowd. Noura never wanted that.
Even when buyout offers came her way, she refused.
"What we are building here is too important to be abandoned," she would say, in a calm voice, without emphasis, but one that nothing could shake.
A Feminism of Universal Liberation
Her feminism was not one of empty slogans. She did not demand equality for the sake of principle, or to make noise. She defended it because she saw in the oppression of women a wound inflicted on all of humanity, an obstacle to the possibility of being oneself.
For her, patriarchy did not confine only women: it stifled every human being forced to play a role instead of inhabiting their own truth. She could not stand seeing anyone reduced to a function, an appearance, a box.
Radicalism in Constancy
Noura never spoke just to fill silence. Her words were rare, but when they came, they cut through.
She always took the side of the invisible, the downtrodden, those society prefers not to see. Her kindness had a thousand faces: a meal offered to a stranger, a makeshift shelter for a dog, a scholarship given to a child. She helped the way one breathes, without ever speaking of it.
What struck people about her was this alliance of rigor and tenderness. She expected the best, but left us free to get there our own way. She never shied away from a bold choice, never betrayed our trust out of caution. It was not a hierarchical relationship: it was an alliance, a shared faith in the power of words to move the lines.
The Most Beautiful Tribute: To Continue
Today, we carry on. Not out of duty, nor out of nostalgia.
But because her fight remains ours.
Because the magazine she wanted continues to exist, against all odds.
Because the space she created for free and demanding speech must not disappear with her.
Noura taught us that radicalism is not found in noise, but in constancy. That one can refuse compromise without losing elegance. That one can be uncompromising on principles and infinitely generous toward people.
She did not like tributes. She would have preferred that we get back to work rather than mourn.
So we pay her the most beautiful tribute of all: to continue.
To write, to think, to resist.
To believe, still, that Tunisian women deserve journalism worthy of them.
This issue, and all those that follow, are dedicated to her.
Because through La Sultane, Noura keeps speaking.
Quietly. Firmly. As always. And forever.
Key Dates
| Milestone | What to know |
|---|---|
| 2014 | Noura Jamila Mahouachi takes over La Sultane and gives the editorial team complete carte blanche: "Create what's missing." |
| Since 2014 | Quiet owner of the magazine: never a byline, never named in a column or on a masthead. |
| Facing buyout offers | She systematically refuses: "What we are building here is too important to be abandoned." |
| October 13, 2025 | Noura Jamila Mahouachi passed away. |
