The colour of sounds in Gaza is grey — Mohamed Yaghi in conversation with Mariam Menawi

Mariam Menawi / 11 paź 2025

Mohamed Yaghi, born and raised in the Shuja’iyya* neighbourhood of Gaza, is a sound engineer and filmmaker who has never left Gaza. His film Gaza Sound Man captures the city’s sonic landscape during the ongoing war — a world where silence itself becomes unbearably loud.

Could you start by introducing yourself and telling us about your background?

I am 33 years old, born and living all my life in Gaza, in the Shuja’iyya area. I graduated from the Islamic University of Gaza in 2012, majoring in media, specifically multimedia. Every stage of my life here has been marked by war. My home was destroyed in this genocide, and I have been displaced at least thirteen times. I have buried thirty eight members of my family. Eighteen bodies of my relatives are still under the rubble

What did you want to express through Gaza Sound Man?

I no longer hear the voices of the people I know, but rather the voices of their pain and oppression. I no longer hear what they were saying. The main aim of the film was to convey the message of these people in Gaza in the shadow of genocide, to convey the suffering of these people to the world. The film was produced by Al Jazeera and reached a certain audience, but I wanted its message to go beyond a specific platform — to reach the entire world. The film portrays my life and my suffering. I am the person who lived through the genocide and did not leave Gaza even once in his life. The title of the film, “Gaza sound man”, simply means me — Mohamed.

How difficult is it to produce such a film?

The film was produced in exceptional circumstances — in a tent, with more than eighteen journalists and photographers, and these were exceedingly difficult working conditions. The film took a year to be ready, five months to shoot, and the rest is production and directing. The journalists’ tents were targeted by Israeli shells. The bombing was deadly and I saw the bodies of deceased. Away from the incidents of killing and fear, there was no internet, no electricity, and no normal work environment during the process. There are difficulties, such as when filming scenes during the war: such as bombing, demolition, fatalities and injuries. People are emotional and tense. Some might get angry at me while working, there is fear of people’s reaction because they are not fully conscious at that time [when things fall apart]. Their looks scare me while they are searching for their relatives under the rubble while I am filming. Once, my camera and audio recording equipment were used by the civil defense to rescue people from under the rubble. The difficulties are persistent and affect also my current work — the power outage, the internet outage, the work environment as we live in a tent, the fear of being targeted by Israeli missiles, the difficulty of transportation and moving from one place to another, lack of photography equipment and the loss of it due to the bombing of my house, and the lack of money.

You have experienced several periods of conflict in Gaza before this war (wars in 2008, 2012, 2014, 2018-19, 2021-2022). How does the current situation compare to those earlier times?

I started my work in the field of sound and filming during 2012 war in Gaza. In that year, Israel attacked Gaza, and since that day I have been working in my job as a sound engineer. The events are similar to those in previous wars, and now the pain is renewed every day. People are very tired and there is no rest at all. I never recovered from any war because the war ends and I am working on what I have collected and photographed, and then another war begins before I finish my first work. I am 33 years old and my whole life is wars.

Did the idea of the film come from the contrast in soundscape of war to soundscape of between-war period you experienced?

The idea of the film came to me because of my specialization in sound and because of what I have seen and heard over the past two years of genocide, the idea for the film came to me from the horror of what I saw and experienced and lived during this period. The film is a summary of my current life story.

There are no music or sound effects in the film. Was that intentional?

The voices of people in Gaza are already a rhythm of their own. I did not need music; the pain and suffering are enough to express everything. The sound of Gaza itself — the cries, the echoes, the silences — is the soundtrack. I did not put music in the film because there is no need for it. The pain and suffering of the people in Gaza is enough to explain all of this without sound effects.

How has the soundscape changed during the years of this war?

The level of sounds during the genocide, which lasted for about two years, faded and began to disappear. There is a difference between fading and disappearance, it means nonexistence.

What do you consider a key sound or sounds in Gaza now?

The current sound in Gaza is the sound of silence, but in reality, it is an incomprehensible sound that contains waves, but it is silent. The sound of genocide in Gaza is so loud that it is inaudible. There is an echo of a murderous sound now in Gaza. A month ago, the sound of hunger was present in Gaza above all other sounds. Now it is the sound of oppression. Before the famine there was the sound of confusion. People did not know where to go or where to sleep. Gaza is known for its loud noises, such as the sounds of people, the sounds of crowds, the sounds of grocery sellers and elderly people talking to each other, the sounds of the school bell, the sounds of the church and the call to prayer in mosques. These sounds have now disappeared considering the genocide. During the genocide, many sounds disappeared, including the sound of birds. In the film, the sound of horses was there because it is the main mean of transporting the dead, wounded and the displaced.

How periods of war soundscape and soundscape of normal life intertwine?

Voices in Gaza have been replaced by other voices. The voices of schoolchildren in the morning assembly have been replaced by the queues for water filling and the queues for food. The sound of the reconnaissance plane is the only sound that has not stopped since 2008, the beginning of the siege of Gaza, until now. It is an annoying sound that is present at every moment in the skies of Gaza and has become a daily routine. It is a sound that these planes make through the continuous buzzing.

How do the sounds affect people in Gaza?

People have no feelings in Gaza now, that is all I can say. People in Gaza are tired. The old woman (my grandmother) heard all the sounds from 1948 until now and her hearing became weak because of the horrors she heard and lived, and she became afraid of loud voices and resorted to hiding under the blanket. In this war, her house was destroyed on her and she was found under the rubble. This old woman now is hearing-impaired. The little girl, Ghazal, said that the sounds of shelling and bombing do not stop, and her heart is torn apart with fear, and she does not feel safe at all, and that she almost died one time while filling water. She misses the sound of the school bell, she misses childhood, the sound of clowns to ease some of her suffering. Khaled, who was displaced with his family and child, had a theater and he is a football player, the war deprived him of the cries, and applauses of the public and fans. The girl who talks about her injured brother in the film. He is the only boy in the family. His presence and activity in the house were the sounds of their joy and laughter. Now he needs someone to support him after he has lost his legs due to the injury.

In the film, you describe the sound as distant, nonexistent, gray, and inaudible. How do you feel now, nearly two years after the war? Is this the same description you used in the film?

The sounds are far away now. I said in the film the color of the sound is grey. Now there is no color. This means silence to me. There is a deadly echo. Now I wear earphones when I walk because I do not want to hear any sounds. There is the sound of people screaming, crying and wailing, and their voices are very loud, but because these sounds are very loud, no one hears them because the pain, the suffering and the loss have encompassed everyone. When I put on headphones, I listen to patriotic songs and music. I see the horrors (genocide, killing and destruction) live broadcast and then I hear the songs that depict that.

What are your fears?

The answer to this question is too long and endless. There is nothing I am afraid of. Everything I am afraid of. It is impossible to be safe under the genocide. We sleep from exhaustion and fatigue, not from drowsiness.

Is it possible to imagine the sound of peaceful Gaza?

Gaza is never quiet. It is a crowded, congested city with 2.5 million people in an area of thirty-eight square kilometers. Life in Gaza is all about movement and activity. Even during the sound of bombing, pain, and oppression.

The interview was held on September 17th 2025 via GoogleMeets.

Producer’s voice

Shada Salhab in conversation with Mariam Menawi

How you became involved in Gaza Sound Man and what was the goal behind this film?

I am the senior producer of Gaza Sound Man. I joined this project because I believe that cinema can be a form of resistance — a way to express and preserve the Palestinian narrative. No film truly captures reality but rather attempts to document what is happening for future generations. The main purpose of Gaza Sound Man was to bring the Palestinian voice to the world and to make people understand the changes that the 2023 war on Gaza brought to everyday life.

This film stands out because of its soundtrack and how it changed before and after the war on Gaza 2023. This war created sounds we had never heard before. Before, Gaza was full of the sounds of life — schoolchildren, street vendors, the sea. After the war, these became the sounds of destruction: shells, bombing, and the cries of the wounded. In all films, we cannot identify the sound engineer because he/she is invisible. Here on the contrary, Mohamed — the sound engineer — becomes the storyteller, sharing what he heard before and after the war. The film is built around sound as both a medium and a message.

Ultimately, the goal is to make Gaza’s voice audible to the world — to stop the war by awakening empathy and exerting global pressure for change.

What were the main challenges you faced in producing?

Many things about the production were difficult. Logistical challenges were particularly important: the internet is almost cut off in Gaza, there is no electricity, no safe access to filming locations. Communication with our team in Gaza was extremely limited. We were working in the shadow of an ongoing war, and every day brought the fear of losing someone to whom we had just spoken.

Beyond that, there were human difficulties. We maintained contact with the film’s participants for more than ten months, always uncertain whether they would survive until the next call. That level of emotional involvement leaves a deep mark.

How would you describe the film’s style?

It is a documentary — but one that captures lived experience rather than just observation. It documents an extended period during the war and translates reality through sound.

How has the film been received internationally?

The response has been powerful. When it was screened in the UK, at the Sheffield Film Festival, the audience was visibly moved. Viewers said the film changed their understanding of Gaza.

On Al Jazeera’s website, it ranked among the top ten most-watched films. It reached both Arab and Western audiences and won several awards — including the Latitude Film Awards (Golden) for short documentary, Shorty Award (Feature Film), and Anhar Award for the Best Documentary in Karama Human Rights Festival in Jordan. The feedback confirmed that this was a new and unconventional film — one born directly from within the war itself.

Do you feel the film achieved its aim?

Yes. It succeeded in conveying the Palestinian narrative and showing how Gaza’s soundscape transformed before and after October 2023. Through sound, we could express something that images alone could not.

The interview was carried out via GoogleMeets on September 21st 2025

Mohamed Yaghi – A survivor of five wars in Gaza, who has so far endured the current conflict. He is a Palestinian sound artist, field recorder, and socially engaged audio practitioner based in Gaza. Active across journalism, film, television, and music, his artistic journey began with field recording—capturing the ambient textures of daily life under occupation. Working under extreme constraints, Yaghi has developed a distinctive, purpose-driven aesthetic: raw, poetic, and politically charged. For him, sound is not just a creative medium but a tool of resistance and cultural preservation. His work reflects Gaza’s collective experience of occupation and the ongoing struggle for rights. His artistic voice is rooted in community, activism, and the politics of everyday life. Yaghi’s current practice explores how sound can reconstruct disappeared places and serve as a vessel for memory, resistance, and cultural survival.

Shada Salhab – A Palestinian from Hebron, West Bank, journalist, and content producer. Graduate from Hebron University and Doha Institute for Graduate Studies. She has worked for Al Jazeera for approximately eight years and served as the senior producer for the film Gaza Sound Man.

Mariam K. N. Menawi – A Palestinian from Nablus, West Bank. She is an academic and researcher specializing in the Palestinian issue, post-colonialism in Africa, and women’s empowerment. Currently a Ph.D. candidate in sociology at Bursa Uludag University, Türkiye, she completed an internship in 2025 at the Faculty of International and Political Studies, University of Łódź, Poland.

* Shuja’iyya – eastern quarter of Gaza city, dramatically affected by 2023 war during three battles (the last one between 4th April and 20th August 2025)