#Zehra Doğan#
NUSAYBIN | Dating back to the ancient Mesopotamian civilization, the town of Nusaybin was the scene of popular resistance during the most serious attacks recently. Targeted by several States and empires in the course of its history, the town is now cut in half: Qamislo on one side of the border and Nusaybin on the other. Because of the resistance it displayed in the 90s, the town has written a page in the history of Serhildan (resistance).
She stands alone as a symbol of resistance
Adule Kılıç, a Kurdish woman who has lost seven children and several grand children to the resistance, stands as a symbol of rebellion for other Kurdish women. She lives alone in her one room house, challenging the attacks against the neighborhood.
At the mention of her children, she says:
“Don’t talk about them, or they’ll rise from my memory again.” Sobbing, she starts to tell us their story. Adule’s struggle began when her eldest son, Eyüp Kılıç joined the PKK in 1986; she then sacrificed her children to the cause: Bedrettin, Mülkiye, Ali, Aşikar and Vasfi. Here is the story in her own words:
They killed my son before my eyes
“My life feels like a pain under my left breast. In 1986, when Hezbollah started to spread around here, my son Eyüp joined the PKK and our family was blacklisted immediately. My other son Bedrettin joined the struggle. One day, as I was walking with Bedrettin, Hezbollah confronted us and started shooting at us. I tried to stop them from shooting my son by grabbing at their weapons and they shot a bullet in my right breast and killed my son before my eyes. He remained on the ground, wounded, for a long time. I called out for help. They knocked me out.When I came to my senses, I was in the hospital in Diyarbakır and 25 days had gone by. No one was able to reclaim my son’s body, Hezbollah took it and we never found it. My husband could not put up with the pain. He died while I was in the hospital.”
You can see the scar on my right breast, but not the one on my left.
“We had to leave. My daughter-in-law and I stole out of Nusaybin with nothing but our blankets and rode to Diyarbakır in an oxcart. Once in Diyarbakır, I took the bus to Istanbul, with a scar in my right breast, but a pain under my left one.”
“I was alone, lost among millions of people”
“Once in Istanbul, I realized everyone there spoke another language. I couldn’t understand a word. We tried to hide in the city. I found a hovel with the help of one of my relatives. We led a miserable life. We went without food or drink for 4 days. Then I bought food on credit from the store and, although they were still small, my children had to go to work.”
Falling leaves
“My daughter Mülkiye joined the PKK. Several years later, I learned she had lost her life in Iran. Then my son Ali followed the same road as his sister. I learned he had also lost his life last year. Then Aşikar left, followed by Vasfi who was the last to join the PKK. One of my sons is a political fugitive in Russia now. “
“They tortured my son”
“My son Eyüp was arrested in 2001. They tortured him. When I visited in jail, I didn’t recognize him. I cried out at the sight of him. He said: “If you cry, don’t bother coming back here.” He’s become crazy because of the torture.”
“They told us peace would come to these lands. We believed them and came back, but it was a lie. One of my sons is in the Fırat neighbourhood. The police killed his animals. If you ask me which period was the worst, I will tell you things are worse now than they were in 1990.”[1]