The journey across the Mediterranean and Europe is bleak and painful for most refugees – but for 26-year-old Syrian musician Anas Maghrebi, it was fun. “It’s surreal to say that, but it was.”

War-torn Syria had been a “dead end” for musicians, says Maghrebi. After the protest against President Bashar al-Assad in 2011, the country had collapsed into bitter civil war. When the drummer of his original band, Rabea, was killed in 2012, it was clear there was little hope for artistic freedom. “Our friend was a peaceful activist; all of us at some point participated in the protests but he was the most serious one. He was helping, not just participating,” Maghrebi says. “These were some dark times for us, because the dream vanished away.”

In 2013 Maghrebi left Damascus for Lebanon, where he met up with other musicians to form Khebez Dawle, but as refugees they were unable to make a living there. In August this year, the four band members – Maghrebi, Muhammad Bazz, Hikmat Qassar and Bashar Darwish – realised they were going to have to make another push. They sold their instruments to pay smugglers $1,200 each and set out in a dinghy across the Mediterranean.

“We were told we’re lucky enough to get this dinghy with just 16 guys. It was fun though – complicated fun.”

When they landed on Lesbos, they handed out copies of their album to tourists on the beach. “Usually they see dinghies with hysterical looks, sad faces. Instead they saw happy faces, laughing, guys speaking English. We introduced ourselves as a band. Everybody was just shocked.”

A week after landing, while staying at a Croatian refugee centre, Khebez Dawle was asked to perform at a pro-refugee concert run by activists. The band then had a gig at a club in Zagreb, which has hosted bands such as Mogwai. They borrowed instruments, played to a full audience, and have since had invitations to play at concerts and festivals around Europe. “For us it was surreal enough that we were still wearing the clothes we were wearing during the trip. The whole thing was not planned, that’s the beauty of it.”

They may have succeeded in putting a different twist on the journey. But in other ways theirs is no different from the harrowing stories of other migrants’ long waits, ill treatment at borders and the feeling of loss of identity. Maghrebi remembers a long night walking, covered in mud to get to Croatia. They were caught at the border by Croatian police and held for more than 24 hours. “We tried to become friendly with the police, to show them we’re not monsters, not criminals – just normal people,” Maghrebi says.

With the band we have a responsibility to speak, to tell Europeans about the other Syrians who are not heard

One of the policemen was a drummer. Maghrebi recalls: “He opened his mobile and started listening to one of our songs on YouTube. Ironically the song is talking about freedom, jail and prisoners. You could see his eyes say, ‘what are you doing here?’ But people don’t know what’s happening on the ground in Syria. They don’t know that there is no other way for us to go.”

The political and social situation in Syria runs through Khebez Dawle’s music. The band’s name translates as “government bread” – a common Syrian phrase meaning dependency and to live well. But it has a different meaning today. “What happened in Syria made us all realise that the real ‘bread’ of the country, or the real basis of building a stable, free country, is people. For Khebez Dawle, people are the subject matter of the music,” says Maghrebi.

“Going through such a trip makes your belief in humans grow stronger. The people who we got to know on this journey are just beautiful, kind hearted, true humans; I don’t remember their passports. Thats a great thing you learn.”

Lyrics written by Lebanese activists on the walls of Beirut during the recent protests. The pictures sent to Khebez Dawle gave them ‘a lot of hope and strength’ on their journey. Photograph: Khebez Dawle

Khebez Dawle describe themselves as oriental indie rock – a blend of traditional Syrian folk music with western rock, drawing influences form Pink Floyd and Radiohead, with Arabic vocals. The four-piece group’s self-titled first album was released in August, and is available to buy online.

Funded by the Arab Fund for Art And Culture and the Arab Culture Resource, it follows the story of a young Syrian man who witnessed the events of the Arab Spring and Syrian uprising. The album explores this without political bias. “At that point in time it was all mess and chaos, and there was no point trying to direct people to this side or that side,” says Maghrebi. The following album, currently being written, tells a different story. It explores refugees’ personal battles: a reflection of young Syrian people experiencing life away from home, and how you deal with a strange country, a new place, and new people.

Through their music, Khebez Dawle wants to share the stories of migrants desperately seeking refuge, with the hope of cutting down barriers between Europe and the Syrian people. The band members, now in Berlin applying for asylum, used crowdfunding to buy equipment, and have plans for a European tour next year. They hope to do a couple of dates in London in the summer.



“With the band we have a responsibility to speak, to tell Europeans about the other Syrians who are not heard,” Maghrebi says. “For me it’s much more important than just playing music in clubs and dancing – all these cliches – it’s much more than that. It’s about being responsible for spreading the word. We got to play music in front of different cultures, different nationalities and we made sure that the language barrier is not a barrier anymore.”

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