The Ultimate Headliner

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Apparently, I was born to be on stage.

Or at least that’s what I thought, aged ten, as I dressed as a munchkin in a local version of the Wizard of Oz.

I beamed under the stagelights as, along with my fellow munchkins, I launched happily into the song Follow the Yellow Brick Road.

I tripped up a bit on the words. But that didn't stop me. Arms flailing, grin wide, I sang like my life depended on it — completely out of tune. But I gave it everything I had.

And at the end of it all, I won a coveted prize: the show’s Smiliest Munchkin.

To this day, that remains my one and only musical accolade.

Because the truth is… it turns out I can’t actually sing. Not well, anyway.

But I love hearing others do it — especially my daughters.

There’s something magical about the way their voices fill a room — spontaneous, joyful, unfiltered. For those moments, it’s like they’re plugged into something bigger than themselves.

A few months ago, I was at a church funeral service of a close family friend that included one of the Psalms of prophet David, the one where the first line is: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want”.   I wasn’t in tune, but I joined in anyway, as our tears flowed.

The act of singing such powerful words together somehow made the grief feel lighter, and the connection stronger. Again, it made me feel we’re part of something more.

God says in the Qur’an, the book Muslims turn to for guidance: “We subjected the mountains to glorify God with David at sunset and sunrise, and the birds, too, gathered together.”

God gave prophet David such a beautiful voice that even the mountains and birds joined him in praise. I love that image — not because it’s grand, but because it’s shared and with purpose.

And maybe that’s the deeper point of song: it’s not about being note-perfect. [Emphasise warmly] It’s about being soul-full. Even if I’m the one just listening, or singing quietly as part of a crowd.

So during this week of World Music Day, I’m happy to let the real stars shine — the singers, the strummers, the joyful noisemakers.

And maybe I’ll be smiling like the smiliest munchkin. Because joy, especially when shared, might just be the ultimate headline act.

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