When Music Becomes a Bridge
By: Marvin Shim
In times of despair, a tiny glimmer light can matter. Music, for many, has been that light, facilitating reflection, memory, companionship, and dignity, in some of the most unimaginable situations. It is, as always, not about the who or the whence; it simply exists, arrives, extends an arm, and reaffirms that nothing can take what it means to be human. For Mr. Kinubi Francis, director of the Salama School for the Blind in Kampala, Uganda, it is through music he has rebuilt, led, and continues to fight for the school on behalf of the students he witnessed living through unbelievable tragedies.
In October of 2022, the Salama School suffered an unimaginable tragedy; a fire broke out shortly after midnight in a girls’ dormitory that was occupied by 17 visually impaired children. The blaze claimed the lives of 11 girls, and left the other six in critical condition. Later declared an arsonist attack, this event followed several fires across schools in Uganda from the start of the year. This loss greatly impacted the community, left with empty chairs in classrooms, unfinished songs, and broken futures. Following this tragedy Francis has tried to restore dignity through music and allow his students to find their voices once again.
Francis joined the EcoEcho Foundation, a student-led non-profit organization empowering children with disabilities and underserved communities through music, on August 5th to enjoy a concert by EcoEcho’s youth musicians. As a part of EcoEcho’s mission to provide resources for all to enjoy and partake in music, EcoEcho has worked with the Salama School to help fundraise for the school’s reconstruction and building of a music hall. Francis commented on the support that EcoEcho provided for the school, "Music is therapy. It is a form of communication that transcends borders and barriers. And tonight, I felt the bridge being built between Salama and all of you."
For Francis, the music played by the EcoEcho students meant more than just one night of entertainment. "When I heard the first notes, I was thinking of our kids back home, how music can help ease their pain, and might inspire them to continue dreaming and show them that they are not forgotten," he said. "This is not simply a concert. It is a message of love from across the oceans."
As he listened, he could sense the intention the student musicians infused into the music. “Even though I can’t see, I can feel the passion the students poured into the music. At that moment, the barriers of language and distance melted away. It was as though they were singing directly for our children, and I thought, yes: music is truly universal.”
The student musicians, reminiscing upon their concert, echoed that same sense of connection. “Even though the unfortunate event took place far away from where I live, those victims were around my age. Hope brightened up when we heard the principal discuss the power of music therapy,” violist Vincent Cho remarked. “EcoEcho was a perfect opportunity for me to use my passion for music to make a difference.”
“When I first stepped in front of the representatives of the Salama School, I felt nervous and desperate for perfection,” violinist Gracie Park noted. “But as I was playing, I realized perfection was never the goal. We shared a musical moment together, and I felt a true empathy that I know I will carry with me forever.”
“Despite having performed at many concerts before, this felt different,” violinist Esther Ahn continued. “The visitors from Salama had come so far just to see us. I believe the eagerness to give them a positive first experience helped all of us perform to the best of our abilities.”
“Before, I had accustomed myself to EcoEcho thinking that it would be a small orchestra that I could participate in for fun,” violinist Noel Jung explained, “I never thought twice about how we could accomplish anything of importance, for we were a humble group of string players. The experience was eye-opening for me, and as we learned about the Salama School and its students, that spark of curiosity blossomed into resolute spirits.”
“This performance was not just about playing the right notes; we had guests from Uganda who traveled over 10,000 miles to attend the concert and we were here to unite people from different backgrounds through a musical experience,” Cho said, “I saw the clear purpose of being an EcoEcho member. The more I played, the ensemble, the audience, and students back in Uganda listening to the concert were connected as one.”
Indeed, Francis was of the same optimistic opinion, “When these young musicians play, they do not just entertain. They become healers, teachers, and friends. Our children may have lost much, but because of you, they have gained a family across the world [...] What [EcoEcho] is doing here is not small. You are planting seeds that will grow into opportunities for our children.”
His words lingered in the room, the weight of both loss and resilience. For the EcoEcho musicians, hearing them was not only humbling but also clarifying. “When I stepped in front of the representatives of the Salama School, I felt the sheer realization of how far music could carry me and others,” Park remarked.
Ahn added to the sentiment, “I will remember forever the moment when our final piece ended. As the applause broke out, seeing the audience’s joyful faces made all the late night rehearsals and hours of practice worth it all.”
The mission of the Salama School and EcoEcho Foundation is very simple: to create resilience and keep hope alive for the community. "We teach not only with books, but with spirit. We want our children to know blindness is not the end of the story," said Francis. "With music, with community, with friends like you, they can dream again. Tonight you [musicians] gave them permission to dream."
The EcoEcho Concert was never about music, from the first note to the last. It was about connecting tattered silences, it was about carrying voices that were nearly lost over oceans into hearts full of possibility. Francis' comments reminded us all that what was happening at our concert that evening was bigger than a concert, it was a promise. A promise that Salama's children will never be forgotten in their loss, they have now gained a much bigger family that believes in them.
“What I felt tonight tells me that music will continue to be a bridge between Salama and this community,” Francis said at the conclusion of the concert. “Together, we will keep building that bridge until our children can walk across it into a brighter future.”
And so with the last bow drawn, the last chord played, what was left was not just sound, but something greater: the idea that resiliency can be modeled, that love can be felt through song, and that hope can be born from loss. The concert may have ended, but it continues to ring out in the halls of Salama, in the young musicians that performed, the hopes ignited that night. The greatest gift of all is sometimes as simple as this, to believe and dream again.
