Im Herbst 2025 nahmen Afor Gashum ihr Album „Voices from Gaza“ auf, da sie meinten, dass die Stimmen von Überlebenden aus Gaza in der israelischen Gesellschaft kaum wahrzunehmen seien. Weiter unten auf dieser Seite finden sich die Texte in englischer Übersetzung zum Nachlesen.
Das Konzert bietet die Gelegenheit, sich mit dem Gazakrieg und dessen Folgen intensiv auseinanderzusetzen. Beim anschließenden Talk mit der Band können wir viel über den Blick linker, kritischer Menschen in Israel auf die Geschehnisse im israelisch-arabischen Konflikt erfahren, eine Perspektive, die in der Auseinandersetzung in der Bundesrepublik häufig fehlt. Eintritt gegen Spende!
📌 Mittwoch, 5. August 2026 um 20:00 Uhr
📍 Baracke am Aasee, Platz der Weißen Rose, Münster
Was erwartet euch beim Talk mit der Band?
Ausgangspunkt unseres Gespräches ist das Album „Voices from Gaza“ von Afor Gashum, das die Band in voller Länge spielen wird. Das Album erschien im November 2025. Die Lieder basieren auf Texten, die von Bewohner:innen Gazas während der israelischen Angriffe von 2023 bis 2025 verfasst wurden.
Wir werden darüber sprechen, wie das Album entstanden ist, und über die Reaktionen innerhalb der israelischen Gesellschaft auf den Krieg, die das Schreiben, Aufnehmen und Aufführen des Albums so dringlich machten. Die Stimmen der Frauen, Kinder und Männer, die in Gaza litten und getötet wurden, kamen im öffentlichen Diskurs Israels kaum vor.
Wir werden auch über die aktuelle Lage in Israel/Palästina sprechen – darüber, wie die Bemühungen zur ethnischen Säuberung im Gazastreifen, im Westjordanland und innerhalb des Staates Israel selbst weitergehen und welcher Widerstand dagegen geleistet wird.
Lyrics of the Album „Voices of Gaza“
This is a loose English translation of the eight songs that appear on Afor Gashum’s album Voices from Gaza, released November 28, 2025.
The songs were inspired by texts written by residents of Gaza under Israel’s attack, 2023-2025.
We cherish the original writers who inspired these songs.
The project is dedicated to the memory of the innocent people of Gaza who died in the war.
You can listen to the album here:
https://aforgashum.bandcamp.com/album/voices-from-gaza
Contact: aforgashum@zoho.com
My Grandfather and Home
First, he counted the days with his fingers
Then he used stones
When that was not enough
He used the clouds, birds, people
How big do you want our home to be
I can continue to write poems
Until you are satisfied
If you wish I can annex a neighbouring planet or two
The years passed
The return is far
He lost his memory
Forgot the picture
I water the soil
Every day
I water the soil
Every day
.
Displaced
I am neither in nor out.
I am in between.
I am not part of anything.
I am a shadow of something.
At best,
I am a thing that
does not really
exist.
I am weightless,
a speck of time
in Gaza.
.
I Know a Child
One child
Didn’t make it to his first computer class
He was murdered by a war
That has artificial intelligence.
I know children
Who only learned to count from one to ten
One of them was killed —
A number they couldn’t even read.
The heart breaks
Over the gentlest of hands
A cluster bomb
Has scattered glass all over the house
It’s not candy
It’s a crazy evil machine
And no poetry can ever bring back
What it destroys
.
On Your Knees
White flag
The baby is thirsty
I’m nameless
I’m stateless
I don’t know what the time is
right now.
Guns pointed at me.
The tank behind.
Artillery shelling in the distance.
Remove your clothes!
I’m a teacher.
You are a terrorist!
On your knees!
A bird is not a stone
A darkness without end
The aches of this place
A reality in pieces.
.
A Mother in Gaza
She learns to sort out sounds
– Sound by sound –
To select a suitable story
To read her kids to sleep
Oh, we are close
To the edge
And the edge
Is always slipping further away
This is an F16
This is a drone
This is a rocket
This is a sniper
Oh, the killing machine
Is blind
And we hope
It will kill itself
Oh, when we reach the bottom
There is always another bottom.
It turns out
It’s an abyss
.
The Sea
The light is off
Even the poems
Are all stone and ashes
The remains of a hug
When we had a port
When there was astonishment
Fishermen at 6am
When we had a sea
We have screamed enough
To be heard
In neighbouring universes
But the stars are asleep
As the world falls apart
The vast sea
Short of breath
Rebel in the face of everything
If I die, I want a loud death
An impact that will remain through all space and time
If I die, I want a resonant death
An impact that will be heard through all space and time
.
Kite
There is no light to read by
And no interval of time
A blind needle is engraving zeros on the building’s walls.
There is no remedy
For the hum of the drones
heaven has been blocked by the fighter jets
My page is blank.
I leave the door to my room open
So the words in my books can flee when they hear the bombs.
I wrote a poem with no punctuation marks
I am sending the rubbed-out part
Across the borders
At night
the sea is no longer blue
Empty-handed
A shortage of everything
There is no electricity and no breathing time
The sky is crushing our land.
A white page flickering like a kite
I am sending the last poem
to a faraway planet
At night
the sea is no longer blue
Empty-handed
A shortage of everything
.
Under the Rubble
A drawing by a child
Colours on the wall.
About four feet high.
Next year, they would be five.
But the painter has died
in an air strike.
There are no colours anymore.
There are no walls.