This song is a composite of some of Ms. Noor Saad’s LinkedIn posts and a video transcription. I created it with ChatGPT and a music program I work with. Noor lives with her family in Gaza.

Gaza Under Attack (2.10.25)

Video Message from Gaza (25.7.25)

Please donate to Ms. Noor’s Help Fund Gaza campaign:

https://www.helpfundgaza.com/profile/noor-saad

​Here’s a message from her on the campaign page: 

I am Noor, an English teacher. I lost my job at UNWRA during the war and I dream of opening a learning center for children to teach them English.

We are a family of seven, always united by love, hard work, and a shared dream of building a better future together. My father is a marine engineer who spent decades working at sea to provide a dignified life for his family.​ Today, he lies in a hospital bed, exhausted and in pain after being critically injured during our displacement ​ Doctors told us clearly: if he does not receive urgent treatment outside Gaza, we will lose him. My mother is a devoted homemaker who has always been the backbone of our home. My brother Ahmed is a biomedical engineer who dreams of contributing to better healthcare. He once developed an electronic brace project, but sadly lost both his project and his source of income in the war.​ My brother Mohammed is an electronics engineer passionate about innovation and problem-solving.​ My brother Yousef is a top-performing cybersecurity engineering student. Unfortunately, he lost his laptop during displacement, and with no income, he cannot afford university tuition or a new laptop to continue his education. M​y sister Retaj is a hardworking school student who has been deprived of her basic right to education. She dreams of becoming a doctor.

The cost of tents and transport exceeded $3,000. As well as basic shelter and survival necessities we cannot afford. We are​ asking just for a chance, an opportunity to survive, rebuild, continue our education, and bring our family’s future back into focus.​ We believe that goodness exists. And that every person can make a difference, no matter how small their contribution.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If you cannot donate, we would be forever grateful if you could share this campaign.

With love,

-Noor

Verse 1

The phone rings at one in the morning, fifteen minutes, and the world is gone. They call it a warning; we call it a sentence. Where is the “safe zone” we can escape to?

Children in arms, streets as our shelter, the night is a blanket of dust and fear. You talk of progress, we talk of hunger. A mother asks me, “Just one piece of bread, my dear?”

Chorus

Can you see us, hear us crying? Do you feel us when we’re dying? We are not numbers on a page. We are voices, we are names. Every sunrise we’re denied, Every home turned into sky. This is not a plea for pity. This is our human cry.

Verse 2

We are tired of moving, tired of losing, Homeless hearts in a broken land. A tent’s too costly, the street becomes refuge, babies sleeping on the sand.

Before you wake and start your morning, let me tell you how our day begins: Carrying life through smoke and rubble, wondering if the night will win.

Chorus

Can you see us, hear us crying? Do you feel us when we’re dying? We are not numbers on a page. We are voices, we are names. Every sunrise we’re denied, Every home turned into sky. This is not a plea for pity. This is our human cry.

Bridge

In your world of screens and shining towers, you speak of justice, of human rights. But here in Gaza, we’re left in silence, starving bodies through endless nights. Will you remember when you’re counting profits that lives are burning while you dream? Our bread is gone, but our voices are rising. We are the echo you cannot leave.

Final Chorus

Can you see us, hear us crying? Do you feel us when we’re dying? We are not numbers on a page. We are voices, we are names. Every sunrise we’re denied, Every home turned into sky. This is not a plea for pity— This is our human cry.

Version 1

Version 2

 أغنية لنور سعد – “هل تروننا؟”

المقطع الأول
رنّ الهاتف في الواحدة صباحًا،
خمس عشرة دقيقة والعالم يزول.
يقولون إنّه إنذار، ونحن نقول حكمًا،
أين هي “المنطقة الآمنة” التي نزول؟

أطفال في الأذرع، والشوارع مأوانا،
والليل غطاء من غبارٍ وخوف.
أنتم تتحدثون عن التقدّم، ونحن عن الجوع،
أمّ تسألني: “قطعة خبز واحدة، أليس يكفي؟”

اللازمة
هل تروننا؟ هل تسمعون بكاءنا؟
هل تشعرون بنا حين نموت هنا؟
لسنا أرقامًا على الورق،
نحن أصوات، نحن أسماء.
كل شمس تُحرم منّا،
كل بيتٍ يصير سماء.
لسنا نرجو شفقةً منكم،
إنها صرخة الإنسان.

المقطع الثاني
سئمنا الترحال، سئمنا الفقدان،
قلوب بلا مأوى في أرضٍ محطّمة.
الخيمة غالية، والشارع ملجأ،
أطفال ينامون على الرمال.

قبل أن تستيقظوا وتبدأوا نهاركم،
دعوني أخبركم كيف يبدأ يومنا:
نحمل الحياة وسط الدخان والركام،
نتساءل إن كان الليل سينتصر.

اللازمة
هل تروننا؟ هل تسمعون بكاءنا؟
هل تشعرون بنا حين نموت هنا؟
لسنا أرقامًا على الورق،
نحن أصوات، نحن أسماء.
كل شمس تُحرم منّا،
كل بيتٍ يصير سماء.
لسنا نرجو شفقةً منكم،
إنها صرخة الإنسان.

الجسر
في عالمكم المليء بالشاشات والأبراج،
تتحدثون عن العدالة وحقوق الإنسان.
أما في غزة، فنُترك في الصمت،
أجساد جائعة في ليالٍ لا تنتهي.
هل ستتذكرون وأنتم تعدّون الأرباح،
أن الأرواح تحترق وأنتم تحلمون؟
قد ضاع الخبز، لكن أصواتنا ترتفع،
نحن الصدى الذي لن يزول.

اللازمة الأخيرة
هل تروننا؟ هل تسمعون بكاءنا؟
هل تشعرون بنا حين نموت هنا؟
لسنا أرقامًا على الورق،
نحن أصوات، نحن أسماء.
كل شمس تُحرم منّا،
كل بيتٍ يصير سماء.
لسنا نرجو شفقةً منكم—
إنها صرخة الإنسان.