Starmaker Story Haniya ((new)) (2027)

Haniya is currently working on her debut EP. And every night, before she goes to sleep, she still logs into StarMaker. She finds a quiet room. She puts on an old song.

And she presses record. Do you have a StarMaker story to share? Tag us with #StarMakerStories.

For Haniya, it didn’t start with a microphone. It started with a broken pair of wired earbuds and a Nokia phone that could barely run the app. Living in a bustling household where silence was a luxury, she would wait until 2:00 AM to record. She would drape a blanket over her head to dampen the sound of the ceiling fan.

Her early "StarMaker story" is unremarkable by internet standards. She sang cover after cover of melancholic ballads—artists like Faheem Abdullah and AUR. Her voice was raw, untrained, and cracked on the high notes. For six months, her listener count hovered in the single digits. Most were bots. One was her mother. The turning point came on a rainy Tuesday. Haniya uploaded a stripped-down cover of a popular ghazal. There was no reverb, no auto-tune. Just her voice and the ambient sound of rain hitting her windowsill.

This is the story of Haniya, a name that has become synonymous with quiet persistence on .

"I wasn't trying to be a star," Haniya recalls during a rare quiet moment between studio sessions. "I was trying not to wake my little brother."

Haniya is currently working on her debut EP. And every night, before she goes to sleep, she still logs into StarMaker. She finds a quiet room. She puts on an old song.

And she presses record. Do you have a StarMaker story to share? Tag us with #StarMakerStories.

For Haniya, it didn’t start with a microphone. It started with a broken pair of wired earbuds and a Nokia phone that could barely run the app. Living in a bustling household where silence was a luxury, she would wait until 2:00 AM to record. She would drape a blanket over her head to dampen the sound of the ceiling fan.

Her early "StarMaker story" is unremarkable by internet standards. She sang cover after cover of melancholic ballads—artists like Faheem Abdullah and AUR. Her voice was raw, untrained, and cracked on the high notes. For six months, her listener count hovered in the single digits. Most were bots. One was her mother. The turning point came on a rainy Tuesday. Haniya uploaded a stripped-down cover of a popular ghazal. There was no reverb, no auto-tune. Just her voice and the ambient sound of rain hitting her windowsill.

This is the story of Haniya, a name that has become synonymous with quiet persistence on .

"I wasn't trying to be a star," Haniya recalls during a rare quiet moment between studio sessions. "I was trying not to wake my little brother."