Nouri: ‘You Have To Be Really Strong To Keep Going’

Live:STR SELECTIONS

by Alexandra Mansilla

Nouri: ‘You Have To Be Really Strong To Keep Going’

12 Jun 2024

You all know Nouri, the Kurdish singer-songwriter based in New Zealand. Born in a refugee camp, she has since paved her way into the music industry. But what challenges did she face? Has she ever been through situations she would rather forget? Who has Nouri addressed some of her songs to? And what project is she working on now that will reveal a different side of her to her audience? Let's find the answers in the interview below.

— Nouri, your story starts from being born in a Syrian refugee camp. Have you ever thought of writing songs about it?

— Of course. I just feel like I have never found the right producer where I am comfortable enough and creative enough to write a song about those types of experiences. I have a lot of emotions that I need to express about what I have been through, what my family's been through, and what others go through in similar situations, both then and now. It is such a touchy subject that I want to create a song that tells the story exactly as it is.

I am definitely going to do it 100% because it is my story. I want to tell it in my way, with my voice and emotions. I have tried before but never released anything that felt authentic enough and not cheesy. I want it to be real. It is about finding the right people who understand and can find themselves in it, too, because that is when we will create the most authentic work.

— You were only three when you lived in the refugee camp, so things might have seemed easier for you at that age. But what about the others in your family?

— You are right; at three years old, everything seems easier. I thought I had everything because my mom made it feel that way. But when my mom tells us the real stories, it is horrific. Like, it would rain, and the tent would get muddy with rain touching our feet at night. We had to fetch water miles away just to have water and make bread.

Back then, all I knew was playing with rocks and ants. I thought that was normal. Every day was about figuring out the next meal or sleeping in a dry place. My mom is a hero for doing it all. She had two kids in Kurdistan (Iraq), two kids in Syria, and two more in New Zealand. I can't imagine how she managed in a refugee camp. She really did it by herself, even with my dad there.

My mom’s life was amazing despite the hardships. She didn’t have the opportunities we have now, so now we try to give her everything she missed out on.

— Do you remember her that time? What picture do you have in your head?

— Honestly, I just see someone who masked a lot of her emotions, so we wouldn't see them. Even if she were sad, she would never make us worry. She was always there, making everything seem normal. That is why I say we had normal childhoods — because she made it seem that way.

When we moved from Syria to New Zealand, it was really hard for her. I could see the sadness on her face, even though she tried to hide it. As kids, especially Middle Eastern kids from a refugee camp, you grow up quickly and become more aware of everything. We were quite aware of her feelings and how hard life was. We never asked for things because we knew our situation and didn't want to make her feel bad for not being able to give us more. She tried so hard to make things normal, and I love her for that.

On our birthdays, my mom couldn't afford presents, so she got my sister and me, who are eight months apart, a shared birthday gift. It was a two-in-one doll. The fact that she went to that extent, despite not being able to afford anything, is something I remember and am super grateful for. She tried so hard to give us something special, even in tough times.

Now, we always try to give back. She raised strong people — strong, headstrong siblings who don't let anything get to us. She made the world seem full of possibilities, and it is a testament to her strength and love.

— Where does she live now?

— In New Zealand.

Photo: Nouri's personal archive

— That is impressive. And what about your dad? You have told nothing about him.

— So, my dad was there during our childhood a little bit, but they split up when we were quite young, around nine. He is still around but not present in our lives. I try to keep in contact with him every now and then because I feel bad; he is my dad at the end of the day. I think I am the only one who really speaks to him.

People make mistakes. I will never forget the things my mom doesn't like him for, but we are all human and capable of forgiving to a certain degree. I don't want to live with regrets of never speaking to my dad.

He used to sing in Kurdish at weddings. He and my mom split up, and she was always heartbroken over that. Seeing my mom sad and carrying that trauma was tough. It is sad, and I don't wish it on anyone. Everything happens the way it does, and you have to deal with it.

I don't hate my dad. I try to keep in contact with him and encourage my sisters to do the same because you never know. Tomorrow we could all be gone, and you might have that regret. He wasn't there for us and barely remembers our birthdays, but who cares? We grew up and now have good lives. It just doesn't matter anymore.

— Thank you for sharing. So, do you remember one of your first performances?

— Yes, I would like to tell you about the one that happened in Australia. I was nine then. There was a talent quest at my school, and I really wanted to sing in front of people to see if I could actually do it. So, I chose the hardest song, "When You Believe" by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey, and sang it acapella because I didn't know how to sing to a backing track. I received a massive standing ovation from the whole school and won the contest. It was surreal and made me realise I wanted to do this forever. The next day, one of the parents came up to me after school and bought me singing lessons because she had heard me at the talent quest. It was such a sweet moment, and it made me believe in myself even more.

— Wow, what a story! So, talking about your songs, why are they all about heartbreaks and things like that?

— I don't know how to talk about my feelings, so the studio is the easiest place for me to let them out. It has always been my way of expressing myself.

I always bottle up my feelings and don't talk to anyone, so being able to write them down and turn them into a song is the best feeling. It makes me feel like it was worth it.

— Okay, I have to ask: Have you ever dedicated any of these songs to someone special?

— Oh my God! I have never talked about this before! I will give you clues because I can't say the name outright. "Favorite Goodbye" was about someone I dated when I was in the USA. He played for a football team.

— When he reads this, he will think, "Aha, she's talking about me."

— Well, it is funny because I had written another song about him. I wrote "Miss All Ur Jokes" about him and used a bit of his voice at the beginning of the music video. I thought he wouldn't notice, but then I got a notification right away. He noticed. He messaged me saying, "New man, huh?" and I was like, “huh?.” It is so funny. But I am sure he is living happily ever after somewhere. We are still good friends and talk every now and then.

— On your video "Where Do We Go From Here?", there are 1,200,000 views. Can you explain why it is the most popular video on your YouTube channel?

— Well, that was my first song! I think the thing is that I am Middle Eastern, and I had a guy in my video that was half-naked. And he looked like Leonardo DiCaprio, which is half the reason why I cast him.

That was my favourite song and video. It was a great time, and it did so well. It was number one in the Middle East and New Zealand. It was such a good time, especially for a debut single. I didn't expect that type of reaction or success so early on.

I think half the views were from the Kurdish community, reacting with a mix of support and controversy. People were like, "Is she Kurdish and looking like that in the video?" It was a bit controversial, to say the least. My mom wasn't happy about it, but I told her, "Ma, it's art."

— And what are you working on now?

— I am working on a few different projects right now. One involves collaborating with artists from Dubai, creating cultural music that mixes English, Arabic, and Kurdish. I can't wait to finish them. It is something I have always wanted to do.

On the other side, I am also working on some worship music. It came so naturally because I love listening to that type of music. A couple of months ago, in the studio, I told my producer I wanted to write a gospel song. I already had the lyrics and melody in my mind, so he played the piano, and within an hour, we had the song recorded. I decided to test it out on TikTok to see if people would like it since it is something new for me.

— It is a new side of you, isn't it?

— Yeah, it is a new side of me, and I feel like it is the most real side of me as well. It is not really about me but about what I believe in — it is about God. I wrote it so that no matter your religion, you can relate to the song. The reaction has been amazing. I started with gospel covers, which made me want to write my own song to see if people would like my original stuff as much as the covers. The response has been so positive on TikTok that I have decided to release it. Now we have been discussing the possibility of doing a worship EP.

Photo: Nouri's personal archive

— You once said that if you weren't a singer, you would be creating apps. You studied computer science, right?

— Yes! Well, honestly, I was studying computer science because my mom wanted me to, and I wanted to make her happy. But I was really intrigued by creating apps. I was fascinated by simple, addictive games like Flappy Bird, where all you did was tap a screen. I wanted to understand the code behind it and create something similar.

I studied computer science for two years, got a scholarship, and was a straight-A student because I am very competitive. No one in my class expected me to be good at computer science, so I wanted to prove them wrong. After getting the scholarship and completing my second year, I faced a decision: finish my last year or go to LA. I realised I could always finish my studies, but I might never get the chance to go to LA again.

I had to break the news to my mom, explaining that opportunities like this are rare and unpredictable. It was hard for her to say yes, but eventually, she let me go. And that was it.

— Did you have an idea of an app?

— I did. I thought, why not create an app that sends notifications on how to take care of a plant? You would scan the type of plant you have, and the app would give you care instructions. There wasn't anything like that back then, at least nothing good. I wanted to call it "GrowPro".

— Also, you told somewhere that you wanted to start a couple of brands. Are you working on it?

— I have a couple of ideas, but I can't say them outright because someone might copy them, haha. I will give you clues instead. One idea is related to clothing, specifically targeted towards the Middle East or a particular religion. The other idea is in the makeup and skincare world, which I am obsessed with. I am currently working on this one, and I am very excited about it because it is something I feel passionate about and knowledgeable about.

— When are we going to see it?

— Well, now, I am in the process of getting the designs and handling all the admin stuff, but I promise it is something that is never been done before. I will give you a little clue: it is for people like me who don't like wearing makeup all the time. It is easy to use and doesn't require you to wear makeup all the time.

Photo: Nouri's personal archive

— You mentioned once that you were scared of marriage. Why?

— You see so many bad examples that you start questioning if you even believe in marriage anymore. What does it actually mean? Do people still understand the real meaning behind it, or has it become just a show where you have a big wedding, but no one knows what marriage truly is or why they are in it?

But one day, my friend reminded me that meeting the right person can change your mind about marriage. They said, "When you meet the right one, your mind will change about marriage." And I realised they were right. I shouldn't close my heart to it.

At that time, I was going through a breakup, so I was very cynical. My friend was right, though — meeting the right person can change your perspective. I was just heartbroken and tired of everything, confused about love and why I should keep trying. But then I met someone who made me believe in it again. We are not together anymore, but I still believe in marriage.

To me, marriage is for God, not just about the two people involved. That is what I believe in and what I stand by.

— During your journey in the musical industry, have you ever faced any challenges you want to highlight?

— For females, it is hard because sometimes men don't handle rejection well. You meet someone and want to work, but they might be thinking about dating you. If you are not interested and just want to work, it can become problematic. They might become bitter, and you could lose an opportunity because they can't handle rejection. That is the hardest part — losing opportunities for having morals and values.

I stand my ground, knowing there are many other doors yet to open. I tell people when they are wrong, even if it means losing an opportunity. I don't want them to try the same thing with someone who can't stand up for themselves.

You have to be really strong to keep going because it can get tough. It can feel like the whole industry is dominated by men, although that is not always the case. I am not bashing men because many have supported me and put me in the right positions. It is just the odd ones who don't handle rejection well or can't keep it professional. This is something you face in this industry and many others. It is the most difficult thing to navigate.

— Sorry for asking, but have you ever faced harassment?

— Yes, it happened early in my career. I was in LA when an artist invited me to their studio, and I thought we were going to work. Suddenly, he put his hand on my thigh, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I told him not to touch me. It never seemed inappropriate at the beginning, so I trusted it. I had let people know where I was going, which was smart.

It didn't hit me until I got into my taxi. I felt shocked and called people to talk about it. I couldn't believe it happened in 2022. It wasn't something extreme where I needed to call the cops, but it was still upsetting. I questioned how and why it happened and blamed myself for being in that situation. When I talked to friends, I broke down, tired of dealing with this. I just wanted to go home and shower because I felt disgusting, even though nothing serious happened. Just being touched without consent was enough to make me feel violated.

Honestly, he is lucky I didn't punch him in the face because I wanted to. It was a frustrating experience, and I am sick of it happening.

I try to forget these incidents happened as a way to move on. It gives me strength without needing to remember the details to feel strong. I believe in living a peaceful life, and that karma and God will take care of those who do wrong. If it had been worse, he would be behind bars, no question. But even getting that close was unacceptable to me.

by Alexandra Mansilla