Towards the end of the pandemic, he moved to New York to continue his art. His work has appeared in Fashion, The New Yorker, Washington Post and on the BBC. In 2020, he illustrated a piece for Shado Magazine about “the environmental war that Israel has been waging against Palestinian farmers and their crops.” On Instagram, he wrote: “Presidents come and go, but American imperialism never changes. Thinking of the Palestinians, who suffer no matter who is in office.”
He soon met Mamdani, whose political rise was in its infancy. The year before he had become a state assemblyman. They finally got engaged, and in February of this year, they rode the subway from their apartment in Astoria to City Hall to seal the deal.
On Tuesday night, after the final votes were declared, a short clip appeared on Mamdani’s Instagram (credited with playing a crucial role in his victory) of a pair of subway doors opening as a voiceover says, “The next and final stop is City Hall.”
As Mamdani’s campaign gained momentum, speculation began to arise about the very existence of this mysterious fellow artist who never appeared alongside him, with critics claiming he was “hiding” his wife. In May, to prove a point, Mamdani posted a series of photos from her wedding day.
“If you look at Twitter today, or any day, you will know how cruel politics can be,” he wrote. “I normally ignore death threats or deportation requests, but it’s different when it comes to those you love.
Charging
“Three months ago, I married the love of my life, Rama, in the City Clerk’s office. Now, right-wing trolls are trying to make this race, which should be about you, be about her.
“Rama is not just my wife, she is an incredible artist who deserves to be known on her own terms. You can criticize my views, but not my family.”
In the comments, Duwaji joked: “OMG she’s real.”
Although she has remained out of the spotlight, Duwaji is said to have been involved behind the scenes in her husband’s campaign, helping shape its message. He is also said to have worked on the striking iconography and font that features colors inspired by New York subway cardsthe Mets and the famous retro-style signs used by the city’s bodegas (convenience stores).
In April, she said YUNG magazine that things were “dark right now in New York,” adding that his art was a “reflection of what’s going on around me.”
In the interview, Duwaji was questioned about the situation in the Middle East, Donald Trump’s presidency and the immigration raids in the United States.
“Right now, what I find even more useful than my role as an artist is my role as an American citizen. With so many people driven out and silenced by fear, all I can do is use my voice to speak about what is happening in the United States, Palestine and Syria as much as I can,” she said.
Now, it’s worth noting that he seems to be getting the hang of the first lady thing. Last night, walking on stage with her husband, she wore an embroidered top by a Palestinian-Jordanian designer and a skirt by a New York designer. The clearest possible message for the new pro-Palestinian mayor, and no trace of the ubiquitous “political wife” stiff dress and pumps.
This was a first lady who, to much of New York’s 30-something population (the average age in the city is 38), seems like someone in their extended circle.
Rama is said to have worked on the campaign’s eye-catching iconography and font that features colors inspired by New York Metrocards, the Mets and the famous retro-style signs used by the city’s wineries.Credit: AP
That is perhaps the key to Duwaji’s soft power. Last month, while her husband sought final vows, she ran tile-making workshops in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. For $95 and a couple of hours, budding artists could “explore glazing techniques” and “the role of fruit depictions commonly found in ceramics from the Islamic era.”
She may not have been front and center during the campaign, but to young, liberal New Yorkers, Duwaji would have had an ordinary appeal, an aura that her husband was also keen to cultivate during his campaign for office.
On the other hand, a friend told him Times she was “our modern-day Princess Diana,” which is both an exaggeration and a sign that she may have already moved on from the “one of us” thing.
Charging
In June, on primary day, Duwaji posted another carousel on his Instagram. The first shows a black and white photographic strip of the couple; the second, a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a New York state voter registration form tucked inside. Then comes a selfie with an “I voted early” sticker in front of a sign of her husband, a clip of Mamdani smiling at her on a New York sidewalk, and finally, an old family photo of a young Mamdani walking toward the camera. The caption reads: “couldn’t be prouder.”
Blink and you would have missed it. Days later, it returned to regular programming. “Anyway…” he wrote in the next post. “Here are things I saw in June that made me want to make art.”
So when the dust settles, when your husband has been sworn in and the movers have moved your art supplies to Gracie Mansion, will you return to normal programming? Or was last night just the beginning for Mrs. Mamdani, New York’s new first lady?
