Seventeen-year-old Samih Al-Madhoun sits at the entrance to his tent, adorned in his Palestinian keffiyeh, and plays the oud. A gifted student from Gaza City, he now shares hope, positivity, and creativity through his music. His fresh musical voice contrasts with the bleakness of the tent-filled camp and the hardships faced by those displaced since the war’s onset.

On October 12, 2023, when the displacement began due to the sudden war and the pretext that Gaza City had turned into a dangerous war zone, the sad and gradual disappointments in Samih’s life commenced. He and his family were forced to evacuate to Khan Younis.

The first blow was profound. As Israel’s occupation banned people from taking many belongings during the evacuation, he was compelled to leave behind his oud, an instrument he had played for years and considered a part of himself. He also made the tough decision to abandon his music and school books, with their beloved memories.

Conservatory student

I met Samih for the first time two years earlier, at the literature department at Al-Azhar University while I was studying there. He was singing with other choir students, including my little sister Malak. They put on a fantastic show that day.

In that same Palestinian keffiyeh that he always wore in performance, his innocent features shined through as he played and sang in various settings, from musical evenings at the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music and at national celebrations and events.

At the conservatory, we always talked about the charm of music, the beauty of life, and the allure of extraordinary moments. “Music is my life.” This is how Samih summarized his deep passion for music. He described his pre-war self as a player of hope and joy, his life brimming with optimism whether he was chattering with family, gatherings with friends, or attending school and musical evenings at the conservatory.

His father discovered his singing talent at a young age and encouraged him to join the Voice Kids competition. Samih then enrolled at the conservatory and selected the oud as his instrument, due to his love for Eastern instruments and the unique connection he felt with the sound. He learned to play songs by the Lebanese singer Fairuz, which are adored by both the young and old and which resonated deeply within the heart.

He would kick off his pre-war day by going to school and hanging out with his friends. Post-school, he’d head back home, spend time with the family, and squeeze in a bit of study time. Come evening, he’d dive into the world of music at the conservatory, hugging life, freedom, the enchantment of music, and self-discovery. That was his routine as a student and music enthusiast: a life free of stress, issues, overthinking, and exhaustion, just like any student’s.

After years of studying at the conservatory, Samih honed his singing and playing skills and discovered his ability to compose new melodies. He aimed to finish his music studies and dreamt of performing on the grandest stages.

Student turned internal refugee

Samih’s life dramatically changed on that fateful autumn day when his family moved from a warm home filled with music, peace, and beauty to harsh tent life amidst explosions, tanks, hail, flooding rainwater, and bone-chilling cold.

Every morning now, he rose to gather water for washing, bathing, and drinking. His body was present there, but his soul remained back home. He yearned to return, play his oud, attend school, and reunite with his friends. He told me his life had become unbearable, days felt unfamiliar, and he hardly recognized himself. I attempted to reassure him, emphasizing his strength and the beauty life holds with the wonderful moments awaiting him in the future.

But the suffering and disappointment didn’t end there. About a month later, in November, Khan Younis turned into a war zone due to the Israeli military’s sudden decision to occupy it. Samih’s family sought refuge in a Palestinian Red Crescent building, only to face danger when the army ordered them to evacuate preceding an explosion in part of the building.

Thankfully they escaped unharmed. Samih described this day as the toughest ever, a moment on the brink of death. They evacuated to Rafah and there they set up their tent, continuing the cycle of hardship.

In February the Israeli military started hinting about entering Rafah, and the media coverage was all about this threat. Rafah was occupied in May, leading Samih’s family to evacuate to the Deir Al-Balah refugee camp.

Samih felt overwhelmed by these sudden turns of events, finding no solace, security, or comfort anywhere. He lived in constant fear for his family as they faced the perils of death, starvation, and homelessness once more.

Inspired back to music

In the Deir Al-Balah camp, Samih sat at the entrance of his tent under a scorching heat that darkened his skin tone, mourning the loss of his past, present, and future.

In a sudden moment of inspiration, he envisioned himself picking up an oud, strumming its strings, and singing. Maybe through music, he could rediscover hope amidst the suffering and break free from the harsh realities of war.

He bought an oud and began playing and singing at his tent’s entrance. His songs resonated with the people, bringing joy and a sense of belonging to their Palestinian homeland. Through music, both children and adults could momentarily escape the traumas of war and embrace the beauty of life.

Samih swears by Marcel Khalife’s words: “If there is no passion, there will be no creativity.”

In his own words, he declares, “Samih was once the bearer of hope and joy before the war, but now he carries the burden of pain. Nevertheless, he will continue to play and spread optimism and happiness around him.”

We must remind ourselves that despite the years of death during the occupation, we have never lost our beauty. This beauty, even if symbolic, allows us to refuse the presence of occupation and maintain our essence.

A line in a novel by Palestinian writer Ibrahim Nasrallah resonates deeply with me: “The tale does not end when it ends, the tale starts, and when it starts, it has to continue this beginning to another beginning.”

And so, in Samih’s story, as he achieves success, it marks not the end but a new beginning. Each success will ease the way for more, leading him from one triumph to the next, each step guiding him towards happiness and heightened creativity, ultimately shaping the life he dreams of. In essence, every end is just the start of many beginnings.