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It’s well known that art is a powerful medium, and in Gaza, music is also a form of resilience against genocide.
From northern Gaza, the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music has organized artistic activities for children since October 2023. These activities go beyond entertainment; they aim to preserve Palestinian identity and heritage amid constant attempts by the Israeli occupation to erase them. Alongside Israel’s mass murder of Palestinians—even during a reported ceasefire—there has also been a cultural genocide. This “malicious destruction” of culture has one goal: to stamp out any evidence of Palestinian genius.
This is where Fouad Khader plays a vital role. He is a choir leader who founded a children’s choir to nurture young vocal talents during the genocide.
“I’ve been working with children and music for years, but establishing a children’s choir grew out of a deeper sense of responsibility toward the next generation, especially after everything they’ve gone through, like war, displacement, trauma,” Khader explained. “I saw how badly they needed a safe space to express their feelings, pain, and dreams. Singing became the closest outlet to their hearts. That’s when I began training them in group singing.”
Through collective singing, children revive Palestinian folk heritage and even produce their own original songs, which they post on social media to reach global audiences.
“When I teach children traditional songs, I’m not just teaching them melodies and lyrics; I’m planting roots. I’m connecting them to their identity in a heartfelt way. I make them feel they are part of a lineage, that they’re not alone,” Khader told Prism.
Khader has faced many challenges in his work, most notably, the lack of safe spaces for practice, constant electricity outages, and the psychological toll of genocide on children.
“The hardest thing is asking children living in the middle of war, displacement, and hunger to sing with steady voices,” Khader said. “Many of them have lost their homes or loved ones. Just seeing them try to sing under these circumstances is heartbreaking.”
Watching Palestinian children engage with cultural music during the genocide is an emotional and powerful experience. Upon hearing a song for the first time, many children become curious about the meaning of the lyrics and the story behind them. Music creates a learning opportunity for children, and the songs they learn create a deeper understanding of Palestinian identity.
“Teaching traditional songs to children is not just an artistic activity,” Khader said. “It’s an act of resistance, a form of cultural and emotional resilience. It preserves the Palestinian narrative and delivers it to the world in a human way that knows no siege or borders.”
While singing provides a space for emotional expression and cultural connection, other forms of music in Gaza have served as a therapeutic tool. This is where Youssef Saad comes in. The teenage music teacher, who began his own musical journey at the age of 6, uses the oud to help children confront the despair and depression they have experienced during the genocide.
In the face of Israel’s brutality that continues to grip Gaza, Saad turned to teaching music, with the goal of helping children navigate the terror inflicted upon their young and vulnerable peers.
“Children are the most affected by this war,” Saad explained, “and music provides them with an educational yet therapeutic outlet.”
Through his music lessons, which combine learning and entertainment, Saad has witnessed remarkable engagement from his students. He has seen firsthand the power that music has to act as a form of psychological support—and a distraction from the destruction outside. The music teacher even incorporated meditation and relaxation sessions into music sessions to soothe both children and their families.
“Parents feel reassured knowing their children find comfort during these activities,” Saad said.
Once, while playing with a group of children, a young girl who lost her mother in the genocide requested the song “Ummi,” or “My Mother.” Based on a poem written in an Israeli jail by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, the Lebanese singer Marcel Khalife put the poem to song. Saad played the song and watched as the girl became emotional, recalling precious memories of her mother. “That moment deeply touched my heart,” he recalled, “and it motivates me to continue despite the dangers we face.”
Saad’s ultimate dream is to become a world-renowned oud player and witness lasting peace in Gaza. Until then, he said he hopes that music programs such as his expand to bring healing and joy to the children of Gaza, who have been hardest hit by the genocide.
Art has remained a constant in Gaza also thanks to percussionist Atef Abu Hamad, who has dedicated his expertise to teaching the children of Gaza to play rhythmic instruments.
What makes Abu Hamad’s work remarkable is that it embodies the ingenuity of Palestinians in the face of scarcity. With musical instruments unavailable in Gaza, children under his guidance transform remnants of war into makeshift percussion tools. Through these creative adaptations, they learn and practice the fundamentals of rhythm by banging on discarded metal cans and other materials.
“At the rhythm classes, the children feel a great sense of relief,” Abu Hamad said. “They release their negative energy through the exercises, and for me, that is a huge achievement.”
As a child, Abu Hamad was so passionate about music that he played on anything he could find. He said he sees the same impulse in the children he now teaches. These talented young people are choosing to turn their pain and hardship into creativity, demonstrating that art is not just a hobby but an act of resistance.
This has certainly been true for Zain Abu Lebda. During the genocide, the 14-year-old Gazan found his voice through music. His talent was discovered during the first months of the genocide, when his mother overheard him singing and encouraged him to share his voice with others. What began as a private passion soon turned into a powerful form of self-expression.
During the genocide, Abu Lebda began writing his own songs as a way to process the intense emotions he was experiencing. “What I write isn’t just words,” he said. “It’s how I release what’s inside me. It’s how I describe the reality we live in.”
The goal of the musical performances isn’t merely distraction from destruction; it’s to safeguard Palestinian heritage, defend the Palestinian cause, and affirm that the history of Palestine will not be erased.
He now participates in Khader’s choir of young singers, processing their pain through music. Abu Lebda told Prism that while he generally loves singing, performing his own songs carries a deeper meaning. “I feel something different when I sing my own songs. I’m proud that they come from me,” he said.
Even during the genocide, music instructors in Gaza have found ways to organize live performances of Palestinian folk songs for families. The goal of the musical performances isn’t merely distraction from destruction; it’s to safeguard Palestinian heritage, defend the Palestinian cause, and affirm that the history of Palestine will not be erased.
Abu Lebda has taken these goals to heart.
“I want to be a famous singer,” he said, “and every one of my songs will be about Palestine.”
Editorial Team:
Tina Vasquez, Lead Editor
Carolyn Copeland, Top Editor
Stephanie Harris, Copy Editor