It is our voice, singing love, with beautiful throats yearning for liberation from traditional moulds and styles of music.
Throats that are searching, in singing their difficult lyrics, for a life buoy to escape the wars’ mud.
Throats that challenge themselves to prove the value of the beauty that is still within us, despite all the horror surrounding us.
Al-Fayha Choir and my voice are many throats for one Arab voice that screams at defeated souls and says: This is our letter, this is our language, this is our music. Enough slandering and defeat. Let’s do the impossible. Let’s quench our thirst for a poetic and musical history that we own and that we can carry with us to the future; a history that is filled with songs that we respect, so it lands in well-deserved place among other peoples’ music.
It is a voice (a sawt) that never faded away, but climbed rough trails without despair.
A Sawt that chooses to take difficult roads; maybe whoever walks the same path later on will rely on a strong Arabic tradition, while they are searching for reassurance in the dreamed-of beauty.