Meet Rama Duwaji – The Syrian-American Artist Who Met Zohran Mamdani On Dating App And Could Soon Be NYC’s First Lady | World News
New Delhi: She stood silently beside him. In the glow of victory, on a stage crowded with cheers, Rama Duwaji looked out at the audience. Calm. Composed. A little distant. For months, she had stayed away from the spotlight. On June 24, she stepped into it. Her husband, Zohran Mamdani, has won the Democratic primary for New York City mayor. However, the questions that followed were not just about politics. They circled back to her – Rama Duwaji. A name now deeply entangled in identity, art and controversy.
Back in May, Mamdani had posted a statement. It came after critics accused him of keeping his wife out of the campaign. The reason, they said, was her Syrian roots, her solidarity with Palestine and her political art. Mamdani pushed back. He called her a remarkable artist. Someone who deserved to be known for her work, not her relationships.
Until that night of celebration, Duwaji had kept a visible distance. No campaign posts. No media appearances. Her social media stayed personal – art, sketches, portraits and moments from her studio.
The silence fueled the fire. Some claimed it was deliberate. A tactic to avoid backlash. The fact that she supported Palestine. That she criticised Israeli military operations in Gaza through her work. That she spoke openly through lines, shapes and color.
But Duwaji’s world does not begin or end with her marriage.
She is 27. She now lives in Brooklyn. She was born in Texas. She was born into cultures. Her family, which came from Damascus in Syria, now lives in Dubai. She studied in Virginia. She did her master’s in New York. She does not talk much about her parents. She prefers to leave that portion of her life in the quiet. She once said she went back to Dubai before the pandemic. She studied in Virginia. Completed her master’s in New York. She does not talk much about her parents. She prefers to keep that part of her life quiet.
She once said that during the pandemic, she returned to Dubai. Spent months with family. Reconnected. Reflected. It shaped her art, her sense of self and her understanding of home.
Her illustrations speak. About Gaza. About immigration. About racial injustice. About campuses silencing dissent. She has drawn pieces in support of Palestinian students. One, in particular, stood out – an illustration for Mahmoud Khalil, detained this year over alleged ties to Hamas.
She does not hold back in interviews either. In April, speaking to a youth-focused platform, she opened up. Her words were raw. “Things are not okay in New York. I worry about my friends. My family. And sometimes it feels like it is all out of my control,” she said.
Her art, she said, reflects what she sees. What she feels. From America to Palestine. From Syria to the edges of her sketchpad.
But it was not always like this.
Duwaji struggled with her Syrian identity. For years, she tried to hide it. She told people she was American. It was easier and safer. While living in the Gulf, she spoke little Arabic. Her mindset, she admitted, was shaped by the West. When she returned to the United States, something shifted.
“I was not fully American either. I did not feel connected to the people around me. So I stayed confused and unsure. Eventually, I embraced my Middle Eastern self. Whatever that meant. It is not entirely Syrian. Not fully Emirati. But it shaped my art and my voice,” she once said.
She met Mamdani on a dating app. Hinge. They hit it off. He once joked, “These apps still have hope.”
In 2024, they got engaged in Dubai. A traditional nikah followed. Their wedding in New York was small. Close friends. Family. Intimate and quiet. The way they wanted it.
Mamdani’s team described the ceremony as private, joyful and filled with love.
When he won the primary, he thanked three persons – his mother, filmmaker Mira Nair, his father, scholar Mahmood Mamdani, and Rama.
He held her hand. Kissed it. And said softly, “Thank you, Rama.”
She smiled. Proud. Still distant. Still herself.
