Lyn Gardner talks to Elias Matar and Sarah Agha about creating a powerful solo play that explores war through the eyes of children.

In the darkness and terror of an airstrike on Gaza a Palestinian grandmother soothes the fears of her grandchildren by telling them a tale about a phoenix. It is the same story which her grandmother once told her. Perhaps also in times of trouble.

Storytelling is at the very heart of A Grain of Sand, a searingly powerful solo show, written and directed by Elias Matar. Running in the Courtyard Theatre at Leeds Playhouse from 6-7 February, it is produced by Good Chance whose previous shows include The Jungle and Kyoto, both of which were seen in the West End and New York and offered theatre-goers a crucible for conversations around complex issues including migration and the climate crisis. This show is part of that tradition of theatre as a useful place to interrogate the world and ourselves.

A Grain of Sand is an affecting reminder that stories provide a light in dark times, and it is the telling and sharing of the stories and folklore from the past which help us to understand ourselves, our place in the world and, maybe, imagine different futures. Keeping those stories alive is an act of both optimism and defiance because war doesn’t just destroy buildings, the fabric of society and families, it also erases culture.

Stories are the lamp which guide Renad, an 11-year-old Gazan girl from Jabalya in the Gaza strip, played by Sarah Agha (a regular on Channel 5’s The Hardacres), who also co-devised the production. Renad’s home has been destroyed in an airstrike. She sets out on a quest in search of her missing family and hope itself. The ancient story of the giant long-necked phoenix, Al Anqaa, whose wings span from Beit Hanoun to Rafah is well known in Gaza. Al Anqaa’s image is even stamped on official municipality documents and etched over the entrance to the town hall.

What makes A Grain of Sand so powerful is the way that it is told entirely through the eyes of a child caught up in the barbarity of a war waged by adults, and how the story is woven through with the real-life testimonies of children who have lived and, in some cases, died in Gaza since the 7 October Hamas attacks and subsequent Israeli onslaught. As Matar, says: “The children are the authentic voice of Gaza.” But their experiences have seldom been foregrounded, their voices rarely heard.

Agha points out that the play is but a grain of sand itself: “One story amidst the hundreds of thousands of stories playing out in Gaza during the last two years. Everyone in Gaza will have a different story.” Like the phoenix, Al Anqaa, the fictional Renad, is a symbol of sorts, but in Agha’s performance she becomes vividly alive, even in the face of tragedy; bursting with life, good humour and so much possibility it makes your heart ache.

Agha argues that often: “Palestinians are reduced to statistics in the news and while statistics are really important in terms of collating evidence for historical record, the Palestinian people are not numbers.” Through the character of Renad, A Grain of Sand ensures we see the children of Gaza as flesh and blood, not data.

The production, produced by Good Chance, began as a commission for the London Palestine Film Festival in 2024 before also being seen at the Liverpool Arab Arts Festival earlier this year. Initially, Matar was hesitant about how to approach making the piece, but when he stumbled across Leila Boukarim and Asaf Luzon’s book A Million Kites: Testimonies and Poems from the Children of Gaza, he knew at once he had found the spine for the play.

“I wanted to honour those children,” he says, “in a world where we truly respected children, we wouldn’t have to hear a child wishing death upon themselves in a poem, either in Gaza or anywhere else in the world.”

These heart-breaking real-life testimonies and poems are woven like a ribbon through the play, expressing the daily reality and anxieties of children as well as offering a disturbing reminder of the long-term impact of war.

“When children are exposed to this kind of trauma it is not like a wound that eventually heals and goes away. It is important to remind the world that the trauma doesn’t just end with a ceasefire,” says Agha.

Fiction and verbatim testimony placed side by side can sometimes be uneasy bedfellows, but Matar handles it both with clarity and sensitivity and points to the fact that those who have been closely following real life events unfolding in Gaza over the last two years online will recognise some incidents in Renad’s fictional story including a child rescuing a cat from the rubble and an airstrike on a camp.

A Grain of Sand is an undoubtedly devastating watch – hence the age 14+ guidance – but if its blows are never softened there is something important about the fact that theatre offers a unique space for audiences to watch together. We are not alone, watching is a communal experience, and one that creates empathy and encourages conversation. To that end, every venue will host a post-show discussion (Leeds Playhouse: 6 Feb).

“Theatre is a medium which allows for open conversation and can provide a place which allows us a space to bear witness and grieve together,” says Matar. For Agha, it is also about spreading awareness too and encouraging people to take action.

As Renad picks her way through the ashes of Gaza, carrying her grandmother’s stories deep inside her, she uses the act of storytelling while undertaking a perilous journey to create her own new story. She bears witness via her journey to the trials of the Gazan people. She is also a phoenix, a tiny bird still learning to spread her growing wings and become powerful.

While making the show, Matar brought together the Gaza Voices Advisory Group to talk about the play, centring lived experience in its making. They discussed “how many times does Gaza have to be reborn?” and whether there was a danger in romanticising Al Anqaa.

He says that those conversations were crucial in developing and shaping the play because: “It’s not a mythical bird which will allow Gaza to rise from the ashes, but people.” People like little Renad, storyteller and future doctor.