Breadcrumb
A musician in Gaza is trying to heal the wounds from Israel's genocidal war
Two months since a supposed "ceasefire" took effect for Israel's war on Gaza, at least 405 Palestinians have been killed, and 1,115 wounded, by persistent Israeli attacks. Among this landscape of dread and death, Ahmed Abu Amsha, a Palestinian man in Gaza, plays music as a form of salvation for those around him.
Every day, with his oud, Abu Amsha travels from city to city, tent to tent, and sometimes to the beach, seeking young and old to uplift them with some songs.
"My idea came from seeing the children suffer in silence […] During the war, I would play the oud to calm them, to distract them from the bombs," the 43-year-old father of four remarked to The New Arab. "After [much of] the fighting stopped, I realised the silence left its own wounds. Music became a way to help them feel alive again, even if only for a moment."
"I did not start this as a program or a project. It was simply about moving from one place to another, following the children, and bringing them a small piece of comfort," he added. "The tents, the streets, the beach, everywhere they are, I am there with my oud."
"I never thought it would become an organised effort," he described about his initiative, dubbed 'Gaza's Birds Sing', "but as more children joined, and as families began to see the effect it had, it became clear that music could be a bridge of hope, a way to help children process what they have been through."
Abu Amsha argues that this current moment, during the so-called ceasefire phase, is just as dangerous as the active phase of Israel's genocidal war.
"Children who endured bombardment, displacement, and the loss of loved ones are now confronting questions they never had to ask before: Where will we live? Will we return home? Why does everything still feel broken if there is a ceasefire? In these moments, music becomes a language, one that allows emotions to surface without being forced into words," he said.
Among the children is Salma Mohammed, a young girl holding an old violin whose surface is scratched and worn.
She told TNA that playing music in public areas helps her accept that her home no longer exists. "When I play music, I understand that it's gone only, but I also understand that I am still here," she said.
For her, music is not merely entertainment; rather, it is a way to process loss without having to describe it.
Nearby sits Adam al-Kurdi, 12, who was displaced with his family from northern Gaza and has not yet been able to return. Before Israel's war, he had never played an instrument. Today, he blows gently into a simple flute.
He told TNA that since joining these jam sessions, he has been able to sleep without nightmares.
For her part, Nour al-Saqqa, 13, a displaced resident of eastern Gaza City, finds comfort in the oud. She recalls how she used to tremble at every loud sound, even weeks after the ceasefire.
"My body still feels as though the bombing is ongoing and could escalate at any moment, as the army continues to attack our people," she told TNA. "Playing music gives me a sense of safety, brief and fragile, but real."
At some sessions, Abu Amsha is joined by his 21-year-old relative, Youssef Abu Amsha, who plays a simple wind instrument.
Youssef remarked to TNA that "music has become a shared language with children who struggle to talk about their experiences."
"Some of them don't want to speak. But, they can play music and listen to it," he added.
Psychologist Heba al-Najjar, who works with children in Gaza, told TNA the weeks following the supposed ceasefire are often the most difficult, mainly as the Israeli army is continuing to attack the people [here in Gaza] and killing more and more innocent civilians.
"When the violence suddenly subsides, the mind begins to process what it was forced to suppress," she said. "This helps explain the persistence of anxiety, social withdrawal, and sleep disorders even two months after the fragile ceasefire."
Al-Najjar stressed that creative activities, such as music, are critical at this stage, as they allow children to express emotions without being pressured to relive traumatic events verbally.