An animated man

When Mohammed Saeed Harib created the unique cartoon tale of four grandmothers living in the UAE, he never imagined his vision would evolve into a world class theme park ten years later. Madeleine Collins met him.

"Not every wise woman is educated, and not every educated woman is wise," Mohammed Saeed Harib tells me as I sit across from him in his bustling, very lime green office. I nod fervently in agreement, not wanting to interrupt in case I jeopardise another out-of-the-blue pearl of wisdom thrown my way.

Harib, it has to be said, is a man who knows a thing or two about women. He may be only 30 years old, but his observations and interpretations of four elderly women tackling life, love and family in the UAE make up the phenomenally successful animated series Freej.

Quite frankly, when meeting Harib, it's easy to assume that he would have ended up carving out a career in front of the camera, rather than the one behind it that has seen him morph from arts student to media mogul in five short years. He has heart-throb good looks and an easy yet charismatic manner, but it is his head for business that has got him where he is today.

A giant framed painting of Umm Saeed - the grandmother who started it all - dressed as Mona Lisa, Arabic mask and all, stares down at us as Harib describes how he was studying arts and animation at Boston North Eastern University ten years ago when he was asked to create a superhero character from his homeland of Dubai.

"I came up with a grandmother character because I come from a male dominant society and a lot of the media spotlight was shed on the hardships my grandfathers experienced when they went on pearl diving trips. Little was known about what was happening on the other side. It was the grandmother or mother figure that used to bring up the children; work for a living, feed the kids."

This was in the 1950s, when Dubai was a "very harsh" desert setting, says Harib. "Grandmothers often had eight to ten kids to deal with each. It was not the best of financial times back then for this region, and I thought that was a heroic thing. It was time to celebrate these women."

He entitled the concept Freej, which means neighbourhood in local dialect. The show is now in its third series and has exploded into a branding empire, but it's been a long road to success since it began life as a six page study book in 1998.

Harib's early sketches followed a formula he had seen work to perfection years earlier on TV. "When I was growing up in Dubai, they used to show The Golden Girls (the comic story of four elderly women living together in Miami) and I used to think it was so funny, so sarcastic," he laughs. ‘They were always making fun of the golden days and how they're still youthful and hot."

While Harib's cartoon interpretation of The Golden Girls didn't focus on looks - all grandmothers wear traditional Arabic masks - the ethos was the same.

"Every character has a sidekick, and opposites attract. I created Umm Saeed first as she stood for a typical grandmother from the UAE - she's wise and very sarcastic, she loves poetry and coffee, she had a bit of a temperament and she is not educated."

Next came Umm Saloom. "She was a bit fat, drowsy and forgetful, so whatever appreciation Umm Saeed has for art, Umm Saloom couldn't care less." Harib then needed another contrast, a grandmother who was "educated, speaks different languages, taller than the rest and she's a tech freak as she loves gadgets. I wanted to establish a connection with the youthful audience." Hence, Umm Allawi was born.

For the forth character, Um Khammas, Harib went for humour: "a rebellious character, who believes in women's empowerment. She takes action before she thinks, she's very forward but later back tracks."

Of Harib's real grandmothers, one died before he met her while the other, who now has Alzheimer's, was an inspiration in his formative years. "She could advise and insult you in the same sentence," he smiles.

Harib also gleaned material from his fellow university students while creating Freej. "The grandmothers of many of my friends were present with them in their minds and hearts and they used to share with me their stories. There were so many common grounds and I thought, we have to celebrate this slice of society. I don't think grandmothers of the next generation will be wearing the mask or talking in pure Arabic, so I wanted to preserve that."

Harib had created a unique concept, but it would take many years to go from his sketch book to television. After returning home from the States, he worked in Dubai Media City on number of projects, which included creating the logo for the Dubai International Film Festival.

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