The Daughters of Jerusalem choir crossed the occupation checkpoints of Jerusalem to sing Palestinian cultural songs on the stage of the University of Limerick Concert Hall.
Founded in 2016, Banat Al-Quds or Daughters of Jerusalem is a female musical ensemble of around 30 young performers, led by composer and musical director Suhail Khoury. It was created to strengthen the presence of young women in the Palestinian and wider Arab musical scene.
They released their first album, Daughters of Jerusalem, in 2018 and have since staged numerous performances and productions, including international tours that carry cultural and national messages. Many if these were in coordination with Irish Artists for Palestine.
Preparing for the Irish tour demanded weeks of intense rehearsals. Schedules were tight, the workload heavy, and every detail, travel, visas, and logistics carried real consequences.
For 24-year-old Tala Al-Ghoul, the journey from south of Jerusalem’s Old City to the stage of the University of Limerick Concert Hall felt nothing short of extraordinary.
A singer with Banat Al-Quds since 2018, Tala joined the ensemble when a friend encouraged her to audition.
“From the moment I joined, the choir became a home.”
“We were terrified someone’s visa would be rejected,” Tala says. “We’re not just a choir; we move together with one purpose. The idea of one girl being left behind would have broken us.”
The choir travelled from Jerusalem to Dublin, then by bus to Limerick.
“Two hours of pure green. No checkpoints, no soldiers, no one asking where we were going or why. Just the road.” Tala said.
Nothing, she says, prepared them for the moment they arrived in Ireland and saw Palestinian flags freely displayed.
“It hurt and healed at the same time,” she recalls. “Back home, a word can get you interrogated. But in Ireland, our flag waves everywhere. It felt like the world finally saw us.”
After the war on Gaza, their performances took on a different urgency, “We were singing to Gaza, and for Gaza,” she says.
“Every time we performed, I cried. We were carrying our people with us on that stage.”
Limerick itself left an impression on her, from the early shop closures, to the autumn scenery she rarely experiences in Palestine.
“In Jerusalem, we don’t really have autumn. But in Limerick, the colours, the leaves, the cold, it felt like another world.”
She remembers the warmth of Irish audiences vividly.
“Even when they didn’t understand every word, they felt the emotion. And seeing Palestinian students from Gaza in the crowd was overwhelming. We wanted just a minute to sit with them.”
Her favourite piece to perform is ‘Ya Gaza’, a song that has taken on deeper meaning since the war. “Every time I sing it, I cry. It reminds me that no matter how much we bleed, we rise again.”
“I want the world to know that we exist. We have a voice. We are women carrying a human message, and a national one. No matter the borders or walls, Palestine is one land, one people.”
At 19 years of age, Suweim Al-Tawil carries herself with the quiet certainty of someone who knows exactly where she comes from. Suweim is from the neighbourhood of Al-Musrara, beside Jerusalem’s Old City.
Her relationship with music began almost before she could form full sentences. At four years old, she began violin lessons at the National Conservatory and started singing in its children’s ensemble. “Music gives me energy, and at the same time, it’s part of who I am.”
Joining Banat Al-Quds in 2023 became a turning point in her life when a friend from the group encouraged her to audition, “We’re not just a choir. We are a message, a voice, a melody, one hand, and one story.”
Preparing for the Ireland tour demanded weeks of intense rehearsals. Schedules were tight, the workload heavy, and every detail, travel, visas, and logistics, carried real consequences.
When they finally reached Limerick, relief mixed with wonder. “The city felt peaceful,” she says.
“Everything was green, calm, organised, and open.” The University of Limerick struck her as expansive and unexpectedly serene, “You feel like you’re in a place designed for creativity, safe, spacious, full of nature.
“Even though we didn’t have much time, the parts we saw left a beautiful impression.”
But nothing compared to the moment she stood on stage in Limerick and began to sing for Palestine. “From the first note, my heart was racing ahead of my voice,” she recalls. “Even though I was far from home, Palestine felt closer than ever.”
When she saw the audience’s attentiveness, tears, and the unmistakable presence of Palestinians from Gaza sitting in the hall, her composure nearly slipped.
“I tried to stay focused on the anthem,” she says. “But I felt this overwhelming pride. My eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t stop. They were tears of strength, not sadness. It felt like my small voice was carrying an entire homeland.”
“Our cause isn’t a headline. It’s human. It’s deep. It has roots. And distance doesn’t weaken our identity. We carry it everywhere.”
Her favourite is the song Gaza, which she describes as “a piece of the collective soul.” One line in particular, “Yindah l-bahrek sobh”, shakes her every time. “It’s a cry. A child or a person calling out to the sea, asking it to witness their pain.”
At 27 years old, Saheed Azzeh speaks about music as though it were a second home. Born in Jerusalem, she joined Banat Al-Quds in 2013 after being nominated by her school choir to audition at the Edward Said National Conservatory of Music.
On the day of their departure, the road to the airport was suddenly closed due to the movement of a visiting American political figure. “We were terrified the flight would leave without us,” she recalls
For Saheed, however, standing on stage in the University of Limerick made every obstacle worthwhile.
“I felt a deep sense of pride and belonging,” she says. “To sing in front of an audience that doesn’t speak our language yet still feels our message.”
Ireland surprised her in other ways, too, “Limerick was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever visited,” she says.
She found comfort in the way many Irish people expressed empathy for Palestinians, “They understand our struggle because they have lived their own.”
“Since I was young, I loved art,” she says. “Banat Al-Quds made me love it even more. Music is the simplest way to deliver our story. It’s a universal language, even without sharing the same words, people understand.”
She hopes audiences abroad understand that Palestine is more than headlines of violence.
“Palestine has victories, culture, art, and a civilisation far deeper than people imagine. I want our voice to reach every place in the world.”