Born in Casablanca out of urgency, lived experience, and the refusal to disappear.
Sarab was born in January 2022 by a small group of people who decided that survival was not enough — that we deserved to create, love, and exist with dignity. In a country where queerness is criminalized under Article 489, our very existence became a political act. So we chose to make it an artistic one too.
We are not an NGO. We are not a political party. We are a collective — a group of artists, writers, activists, and community organizers bound by shared values and a shared refusal to disappear. We operate from within our communities, by our communities, for our communities.
We chose artivism — the intersection of art and activism — as our primary language because we believe that meaningful social change begins with a shift in perception. Before laws evolve, the way people see and understand the world must transform.
Art has the power to open new ways of seeing: to make invisible lives visible, to challenge dominant narratives, and to invite audiences to encounter realities they may never have imagined.
Sarab Collective, 2022
Through creative interventions, storytelling, and safer community gatherings, Sarab works to reshape cultural perception. Our activities create spaces where marginalized voices can be heard, where personal and collective stories are shared, and where empathy can grow.
Every project begins in conversation. We ask what is needed, what is missing, and what could be dangerous — before we begin making anything.
Visibility is never worth risking someone’s safety. Every public intervention is risk-assessed. Safety plans are built into every project before it begins.
Morocco’s Article 489 criminalizes same-sex relations with penalties of up to 3 years in prison. This is the legal context in which Sarab operates. Every gathering, every zine, every performance carries real risk. That risk is not abstract — it is lived daily by our members.
And yet. We continue. Because the alternative — silence, invisibility, erasure — is not something we are willing to accept. We make art because we must. Because our lives depend not just on survival, but on being seen.
What is often dismissed as illusion or impossibility can become a vision for a different future.
— The Name Sarab, meaning Mirage
You don’t need to be an artist. You don’t need to be based in Morocco. You don’t need to be publicly out. There are many forms of solidarity, and all of them matter.
We prioritize the wellbeing, safety, and dignity of our members above all else. Care is not incidental — it is structural.
We speak plainly about the realities of queer life in Morocco — the danger, the beauty, the urgency, and the hope.
We refuse the separation of aesthetics from politics. Every creative act is already a position, a stance, a form of presence.
Nothing we make belongs to one person. Our work emerges from collaboration, shared risk, and mutual trust.
We document everything — because erasing queer history is a strategy of oppression. We refuse to be forgotten.
Visibility is never worth risking the physical safety of our members. We plan carefully. We protect each other.
Sarab is always growing. If you are an artist, activist, organizer, writer, or someone who simply refuses to accept the world as it is — we want to hear from you. There are many ways to be part of this.